Irreverently Reverend

Pentecost Congregational Prayer

2010-05-22T17:36:00.001-04:00

(What appears in bold type is a prayer by St. Augustine of Hippo.)

Breathe in us O Holy Spirit
that our thoughts may all be holy;

We come to you in prayer with scattered thoughts.

Wandering thoughts.

Thoughts that will not be tamed –

Of sin or self- congratulation, Of distraction and self-indulgence.

Thoughts permeated by sadness, grief, longing, anger, revenge and self-hatred.

Holy Spirit, make us holy.

Act in us O Holy Spirit
that our works, too, may be holy;

We fail to come to you in prayer because we are busy –

With work and family, friends and obligations.

Doing Your own work in our own strength.

We have forgotten to say "no" to more in order to say "yes" to You.

We ask for wisdom to do what you will –

nothing more, nothing less, nothing else.

We ask for wholeness, which is another way of praying

Holy Spirit, make us holy.

Draw our heart O Holy Spirit
that we love only what is holy;

We love much but we do not always love what is right.

Guide our priorities. Help us to seek you above all else.

Help us to shape our relationships in the pattern that Christ has set –

Caring more for others than for being thought perfect.

Caring more for truth and faithfulness than for being popular.

Caring that Your Kingdom of perfect peace comes in just a little more fullness and fragrance every day in us and through us.

Holy Spirit, make us holy.

Strengthen us O Holy Spirit
to defend that which is holy;

As a church, strengthen us to submit to You and to one another,

In order that Your will be done.

In the places where we are tempted to go along to get along, help us to be prophets.

To love mercy and do justice and walk humbly with God.

In the places where we are afraid to speak and live truth, empower us to preach with the gusto of Peter at Pentecost.

Holy Spirit, make us holy.

Guard us then O Holy Spirit
that we always may be holy.

In the living and in dying of Your world,

Guard Your people.

In the laughter and tears of Your world,

Guard Your people.

In the war and peace of Your world,

Guard Your people.

In the wealth and poverty of Your world,

Guard Your people.

In the health and disease of Your world,

Guard Your people.

Holy Spirit, make us holy.

Make us patient to wait upon you. Give us wisdom the see the world the way you do and courage to live in the grace of our Savior Jesus Christ who with the Spirit and the Father is worshipped and glorified, one God now and forever. Amen.

A Mother's Day Prayer

2010-05-09T16:51:00.002-04:00

Once hallmark gets involved, Mother's Day can become a saccharine cone of cotton candy before we know it. With thanks to a congregation member, we acknowledged Mother's Day with THIS VIDEO

Dramatic Interpretation: Luke 13:1-9

2010-03-02T11:24:00.001-05:00

[Preacher] Now there were some present at that time who told Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mixed with their sacrifices. Jesus answered, "Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered this way? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish. Or those eighteen who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them—do you think they were more guilty than all the others living in Jerusalem?I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish."

[P] Then he told this parable: A man had a fig tree, planted in his vineyard

[1] A teacher had a student in her class

[2] A coach had a player on his team

[3] A businessman had an employee at his company

[P] He went to look for fruit but did not find any

[1] She tested his performance, he was failing math.

[2] He watched her in try-outs, her skills were worse than before

[3] Whose file was up for review. He was lazy and unskilled.

[P] So he said to the man who took care of the vineyard

[1] So she said to her classroom aid who loved the struggling kids,

[2] So he said to the team manager, who kept track of the girls,

[3] So he said to his regional supervisor who mentored this man,

[P] For three years now I've been coming back to look for fruit

[1] All year now I've explained math every way I know how

[2] Two years I've coached the JV team, I kept waiting for her to take her potential seriously

[3] Ever since I've owned this company, I've kept my eye on this employee

[P] And I haven't found any.

[1] And he still doesn't get it.

[2] And she just won't practice.

[3] And he's got nothing we need.

[P] Cut it down!

[1] Flunk this kid!

[2] She's off the team!

[3] Fire him!

[P] Why should it use up the soil?'

[1] Why do I keep trying with this one?

[2] Why should I waste my time with her?

[3] Why support someone who clearly won't earn his keep?

[P] "Sir," the man replied,

[1] "Listen," the aide replied,

[2] "Coach," the manager replied,

[3] "Boss," the supervisor replied,

[P] "Leave it alone for one more year,

[1] "Allow me time with him everyday

[2] "Give her another year on the team

[3] "Wait another budget year

[P] And I'll dig around it and fertilize it.

[1] And I'll explain it and show him again.

[2] And I'll work with her on drills and we'll train together in the weight room

[3] And I'll go on sales calls with him and I'll hold him accountable.

[P] If it bears fruit next year, fine!

[1] If he passes the next test, fine!

[2] If she hits her stride, fine!

[3] If his sales improve, fine!

[P] If not, then cut it down."

[1] If not, then flunk him."

[2] If not, then cut her from the team."

[3] If not, then fire him."

1st Sunday in Epiphany – Congregational Prayer

2010-01-09T13:06:00.001-05:00

God has called us out of darkness into the glorious light of God's Son, Jesus Christ. Let us pray for all those who do not yet know the light and for all people who continue to struggle against the darkness.

LORD Jesus Christ, we bring into Your light the darkness of our world. For those who live in overwhelming poverty and for those who live in overwhelming affluence. For those who daily face cruelty, war and oppressive systems of government and economics. For our brothers and sisters in faith who worship in secret, who stare down opposition and suffer persecution. Send forth your light. Let your glory be known throughout the whole world.

LORD Jesus Christ, we bring into Your light the darkness of our nation. We confess that we are not the city on a hill, a perfect beacon of your values and priorities. Rather we continue to sanction inequality, injustice and failure to love our neighbors as ourselves, as Christ Himself taught us. Send forth your light. Let your glory be seen through the one true city on a hill, your people, the church.

LORD Jesus Christ, we bring into Your light the darkness of our city. For those living without heat, homes or friendship. For your churches, that we may find unity in the Triune God. That we may work together in peace to bring about at least a dim reflection of your coming kingdom. Send forth your light. Let your glory shine out in (place city & state names here).

LORD Jesus Christ, we bring into Your light even the darkness hidden in our own lives. For MANY in our congregation this week who are grieving – (place names here). For many recuperating from illness, injury or surgery – (place names here). For others among us who live with the secret darkness of addiction, depression, loneliness or disappointments in this life. Send forth your light. Let your glory dwell within us.

Loving and gracious God, You shine light in our darkness. You know our thoughts and our needs more than we can know them ourselves. Accept our prayers and strengthen us to reflect your light to a watching world so that Your name may be glorified all around us. It is in Christ, the true light of the world, that we pray.

Amen.

Everybody Take Your Places!

2009-11-21T21:45:00.001-05:00

Text: Daniel 7:1-14

Theme: The Kingdom of God is HERE. . .and is YET TO COME.

Doctrine: Eschatology – already, not yet; the Kingship of Christ.

Image: Like reading poetry; D-day vs. V-day

Need: To re-calibrate our understanding according to Reformed theology

Mission: To live without fear because we honor the sacrifice of Christ inaugurating the Kingdom (D-day) and we know it is only a matter of time until Christ comes again (V-day.)

Introduction

When it comes to Scripture passages like ours this morning – the Apocalyptic literature of Daniel and the New Testament book of Revelation, many in the Reformed tradition – where we claim our theological roots -- have been unforgivably silent. While other schools of Christian thought have risen to prominence, proclaiming an end of the world filled with 'splosions and vengeance, Reformed pastors and churches have provided precious little by way of perspective upon the coming of Christ's Kingdom.

In that silence, faithful members of our churches, who have been hungry to know and learn, have gained knowledge and learned from those folks who were talking about the end of the world. And I am deeply sorry for that. Because we, Reformed pastors and churches do have something wonderful to say about how Christ not only WILL SOMEDAY reign upon the earth but how we believe that, in the face of corrupt governments, power-hungry empires and cruel and unjust systems, Jesus is ALREADY LORD and King.

The crux of the issue comes down to this – how will we read the text of Daniel 7? Is it meant to be a history book, filled with timelines and factual accuracy? It is an algebra equation waiting for us to fill in the missing variable? Is it a mystery, to which we must snoop and investigate like Biblical Sherlock Holmes? Or is it poetry, where the imagery is crafted to evoke the realities and emotions of our own lived experiences, so that our souls know the truth of it before our minds can logically organize the facts of it?

Trouble in the Text

Well, how would Daniel's original audience have received this vision? Daniel's audience was the people of Israel being held in exile in Babylon, about 600 years before Christ's birth. The people of Israel could look back over their history (much like this quilt/banner) and remember that the God who created them, also promised His covenant love to Abraham. And the covenant was renewed many, many times through the course of their story. When Moses received that law, the promises of land became contingent on a promise. With obedience will come blessing. With disobedience will come disaster. And they can look back to see how their own disobedience has gotten them into this mess.

But, much harder to look ahead and trust that God will still care for them. Indeed, it must seem that the covenant-making God, the Loving Redeemer of His people from slavery in Egypt, the careful Provider or food and water in the wilderness, the one whose presence used to fill the Temple in Jerusalem, their YHWH God is very far removed from them now. In God's place are the cruel tyrants of Babylon's army. The oppression of Babylon's government and the strange, dissonant emptiness of Babylon's many gods.

Daniel also wrote during a time and in a place that was saturated with the tradition of Near Eastern story-telling and mythology. Most of the best-sellers at Babylon's Barnes & Nobles would have been stories of this god besting his rival god. Or myths to make sense of chaos and harmony, of peace and warfare. This is considered "apocalyptic literature," similar to the New Testament book of Revelation. Here are three ways to identify apocalyptic literature:

Apocalyptic literature is poetic, saturated by images and visions, with reference to cosmic battles of good and evil. One image is piled on top of another as though there is one central truth in the middle and the author is content to try to reach it from this angle, and again from this angle and another angle in order that the reader may have this one central truth as the anchor to their identity while their world is in chaos.
Apocalyptic literature points to eternal, cosmic realities. It is a genre that attempts to pull back the curtain a bit between heaven and earth. To reveal what is happening in heaven when people's minds are filled to overflowing with the harsh realities of earth. It thus provides a lens through which to interpret earthly realities from a heavenly perspective.
Apocalyptic literature comforts the afflicted. It is always intended to provide a sense of identity and stability in the midst of chaos. Whereas prophecies, like last week's text, are intended to afflict the comfortable, apocalyptic literature is meant to comfort the afflicted. And, since Daniel is preaching to a highly afflicted congregation, it is reasonable to assume that his message is intended as one of comfort, strange comfort though it may be.

When Daniel's audience heard the words, "Daniel had a dream and a vision passed through his mind," They settled into their seats knowing exactly what to expect: a word in poetic form, eternal in scope and comforting in intention.

But HOW is Daniel 7 comforting? With its imagery of strange creatures arising out of the sea. In Near Eastern literature, the sea was always the place that symbolized chaos and unpredictability. Arising out of the sea are four strange creatures, made up of bits and parts from various different animals, a sight, which for the Israelites who were very particular to keep separation between the animals as a means of keeping Kosher, sent shudders down their spine. What are these abhorrent creatures?

Indeed, many commentators have been intrigued by that very question – what are these abhorrent creatures? Writing in the midst of Babylon's empire, from a prominent position in King Darius' favor, Daniel was not about to straight-out name the oppressors. But, writing for the oppressed, the people must have known, Daniel is speaking to us. Daniel is speaking against Babylon. And Daniel is speaking about our realities:

A lion with wings that are clipped, keeping him powerful but only on the earth – "Hey! That is the way it feels to be oppressed by the earthly reality of Babylon's power over us."
A ravenous bear, always on the hunt for wealth, power, fame and influence -- "That's exactly what it feels like to be oppressed by Babylon's tyranny and insatiable appetite for control."
And the leopard is fast to catch his prey. "We were brought into captivity before we knew it but, with four heads! Oh Daniel, what a commentary on the infighting of powerful empires!"
Finally, the worst of the four beasts, with a horn that spoke constant boasts – "All we ever hear is discouragement and belittling taunts and prejudice of the Babylonians as we remain their inferiors."

There is one truth that Daniel is trying to communicate to his audience but, as a great poet is likely to do, Daniel tries to get at the truth in several different ways. "Hey Israelites! I know that you are staring down the barrel of corrupt governments, power-hungry empires and cruel and unjust systems every, single day. And the earthly realities we face are grim. Abhorrent. Stunning in their variations on the same themes – violence, lust for power, hatred for God and God's people.

Doesn't seem like good news quite yet, does it. Except for this. Except that anyone who has faced heartache, despair and persecution could tell you – far better that someone is able to name the reality of my situation than to ignore it altogether. What a relief it must have been to know that their plight was not invisible after all. Daniel had seen it. In a vision no less, a vision given by God, which means that, after all He has not forgotten us!

Trouble in the World

The primary trouble facing Daniel's audience was the massive oppression by the powers of government, economics and systems they faced as exiles in Babylon. But the vision God gave to Daniel is not particular to a time or place. It is not intended as a timeline of events, past or present. It is the reality of earthly powers in every time and place. And the trouble is one we still face today.

It can be difficult for us to find a similar level of systematic oppression and injustice in our own lives. We see it out there, of course, in the church universal. In the Congo. And Sudan. And the Middle East. In Asian closed countries. We live in a world where this kind of oppression is a daily reality. But it isn't OUR daily reality.

And yet, even the very best governments and systems of this world are still not the same thing as the Kingdom of our LORD and of His Christ. ALL kingdoms of this world -- even those that support freedom and religious liberty – have elements of their politics, economies or societies that are intended to undermine the claim that "All authority, glory and sovereign power" is due to the Son of Man, who approaches the Ancient of Days on the clouds.

Grace in the Text

How then are we to stand on the right side of history? The right side of history is always the one that keeps eternity in mind.

"Thrones were set in place, and the Ancient of Days took his seat. His clothing was a white as snow; the hair of his head was white like wool, His throne was flaming with fire, and its wheels were ablaze. A river of fire was flowing, coming out from before him. Thousands upon thousands attended him; ten thousand times ten thousand stood before him, the court was seated and the books were opened."

While the Israelites in captivity felt abandoned to the beasts of Babylon's tyranny, Daniel slowly drew aside the curtain revealing the scene in heaven, where God is seated on His throne after all. And He is called the Ancient of Days to remind us that God is always faithful and unwaveringly sovereign. God is in control, even when it seems evil beasts are on the loose. And the Son of Man approaches, riding on the clouds. At that time,

"He was given authority, glory and sovereign power; all nations and peoples of every language worshipped him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that will not pass away, and his kingdom is one that will never be destroyed."

At that time. . .at what time? Many of the most popular understandings of Daniel 7, as well as many of the most popular understandings of the end of the world believe that Christ's reign won't begin until He comes again.

But the very Savior who entered into the heart of the beastly world, who was content to be born under the shadow of the most savage empire – born in Roman times, killed at the hands of a religious leaders and defeated for a moment by the cruelest system of all – death -- is the same Savior who rose from the dead, forever changing the nature of death for all who believe. And he ascended into heaven, on the clouds and was led into the presence of the Ancient of Days.

"He was taken up before their very eyes, and a cloud hid him from their sight. They were looking intently up into the sky as he was going, when suddenly two men dressed in white stood beside them. 'Men of Galilee,' they said, 'why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven.'""

Grace in the World

God's Word to Daniel, God's Word to the church in the first chapter of Acts is the same as God's Word to us – a word in poetic form, eternal in scope and comforting in intention. When the curtain is pulled aside and God's eternal purpose is seen, we see more than the chaos of the world around us.

"But from now on," Christ testified at his own trial before his crucifixion "you will see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of the Mighty One and coming on the clouds of heaven." Christ is ALREADY King!

This vision is not simply pie-in-the-sky-by-and-by. This vision is the reality of Christ's Kingdom in Heaven, which strengthens us to participate in Christ's Kingdom coming to earth.

On June 6, 1944, the 175,000 Allied Troops landed on the sandy shores of Normandy. The price to be paid – in lives and casualties -- was astronomical but, as a result, the Allies achieved their first stronghold on the continent of Europe. And the outcome of World War II was all but assured – a victory for the Allied forces. All that was left for them to do was march steadily across the continent, until the 8^th of May 1945, when victory was declared at last.

Nearly 2,000 years ago, Jesus Christ, the Son of Man took on human flesh and landed on the sandy crust of this earth. The price he lived to pay – torture and death – was astronomical. But, as a result, rising from the grave and ascending into heaven, Christ provided, for the church, our first stronghold – the first inauguration of the Kingdom of God. Frederick Buechner writes of this Kingdom, that it is the place

"where our best dreams come from and our truest prayers. We glimpse it at those moments when we find ourselves being better than we are and wiser than we know. We catch sight of it when at some moment of crisis a strength seems to come to us that is greater than our own strength. The Kingdom of God is where we belong. It is home, and whether we realize it or not, I think we are all of us homesick for it." (Listening to Your Life 304)

And the outcome of the Kingdom of God is absolutely assured – a victory for all those on the side of the Ancient of Days. And all that is left for us to do is walk in the good works, which God has laid out in advance for us, until someday – nobody may know the day or the hour – when Christ will come again and make all things new. And victory will be declared at last. Soon and very soon. No more waiting then. Soon and very soon, we are going to see the King.

The Pastor I Want To Be

2009-06-08T11:37:00.002-04:00

Monday mornings are mini-Sabbaths for me. A time to get my soul screwed on straight for the work of ministry facing me this week. Along with tea, quiet, my journal & Bible (the pastoral epistles these days), I also journey along with Marva Dawn and Eugene Peterson in a course of spiritual reading (The Unnecessary Pastor: Rediscovering the Call these days.)

Currently, I am reading a chapter by Brother Eugene, a commentary on the book of Romans as profoundly pastoral theology. I am discovering in this fresh view of Paul, crafted by Peterson's pen, the pastor I want to be. The exact kind-of pastor I thought I would be -- before the reality of ministry's multiple adiaphora set in. Here are his encouraging words to all the Monday morning weary and hopeful:

I am interested in St. Paul's letter to the Romans as. . .a piece of writing that is a working demonstration of spiritual formation in the Christian community. My interest iis piqued by living in an age in which the work of much of the church's leadership is neither pastoral nor theological. The pastoral dimensions of the church's leadership are badly eroded by technologizing and managerial influences. The theological dimensions of the church's leadership have been marginalized by therapeutic and marketing preoccupations. The gospel work of giving leadership to the community of the Christian faithful has been alienated from its source.

Paul was a pastoral theologian. All of Paul's thinking and writing, teaching and preaching in the service of God (that is, his theology) was at the same time carried out in the service of a community of souls (that is, it was pastoral.)

For too long, pastors have not been treated as theologians; theology has been leeched from our lives. At the same time, pastors have been told that they're not pastors but counselors and people who run churches.

Normallly, the work of pastor is not generalized; it is specific to a particular community in a particular place. We aren't going to be able to copy Paul: we have no idea what Paul would do if he had to deal with music teams and pothols in the parking lot, figure out budget, bury teenage suicides and marry confused young adults, run a youth program and pose as a genial man of God at the annual church picnic.

Pastors who are pleased to sit at the feet of Paul the theologian more often than not sign up with psychologists and management consultants for expert counsel when it comes to going about their daily work iin the kingdom. This is understandable, for caring for souls is honored and demanding work; those who give their lives to it need all the help they can get. But without theology, caring for souls can easily transgress into manipulating or seducing selves.

And scholars for whom Paul is the patron saint of the learned life frequently minimize the way in which Paul used his mind in the immediate service of God and souls, preferring thus to work in settings protected against interruption. Theological and exegetical study is honored and demanding work, but abstracted from the actual conditions of community and congregation it easily loses connection with the God who loves the world and gave himself for it. having a mind, a glory we hold in common with the angels, is grand. Cultivating the life of the intellect is essential to the sanity of the church of Christ. But the use of the mind can as easily lead into pride as into truth. This happens when it severs itself from the pastoral.

Recently responding to another pastor's blog, I reflected this:

All of the maintaining work that goes into a churchly vocation is weary-ing work but not in the same way that ministry is weary-ing.
Ministry is life-giving, even when it wearies me.
Ministry is good, even when it’s hard.
Ministry is satisfying, even when it’s messy.
A to-do list filled with maintaining makes me not want to get out of bed in the morning.

What I love about Brother Eugene is the permission he provides to pastors to, in fact, be pastors. To not get lost in the paperwork shuffle or the immediacy of programming. But to be pastoral (set firmly and lovingly in the context of a particular community and theological (reflecting on the person, attributes and nature of the Triune God)? That is the pastor I want to be.

What We Have Left Undone

2009-06-04T20:54:00.002-04:00

Most merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We are truly sorry and we humbly repent, for the sake of your Son Jesus Christ, have mercy on us and forgive us; that we may delight in your will, and walk in your ways, to the glory of your Name. Amen.

Ministry is never done. Which means that, inevitably, much of what could be bows to the tyranny of what should be. Gettin' it done, inevitably, triumphs over dreams, imagination and "wouldn't it be amazing if. . ." ideas. Every night, as my head hits the pillow, I am haunted by the reminder of all the good that was left undone in my day. What is the line between finitude and sin? . . . Kyrie Eleison.

Almighty God, who does freely pardon all who repent and turn to Him, now fulfill in every contrite heart the promise of redeeming grace; forgiving all our sins, and cleansing us from an evil conscience; through the perfect sacrifice of Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

My Peeps

2009-06-02T20:29:00.001-04:00

So, this made me happy today. CRC represent!

The Trouble with the Fishbowl

2009-06-01T20:52:00.003-04:00

In seminary we talk a LOT about "pastoral identity." One of the truths bestowed upon us is that ministry can feel like living in a fishbowl. Especially in Old Style churches, where comments are made about whose car is parked in your driveway; small chastisements regarding the hours you work (too many, too few, strange timetables), etc.; whether this, that or the other thing is appropriate attire for a Domini and on. . .and on. . .

But here's what they DON'T tell you about the fishbowl (or maybe I was still fixated on Domini attire when they mentioned it): Being in a fishbowl doesn't just mean everyone can see you -- it also means that, no matter how many times you circle around the joint, you are in your own watery, glass confinement. It means that everyone who is allowed, by virtue of your title, to watch your every lap around the bowl is simultaneously held at a distance from the waters you know. They still breath in oxygen. And while you may share the same living space, don't kid yourself: you are living worlds apart.

When they told us we were "set-apart" for ministry, I didn't know this is what they meant. It sounded so noble back then. It sounded laudable. It even sounded manageable. Set apart?

I just miss being able to breathe.

Faith is a Team Sport

2009-05-12T21:56:00.001-04:00

Text: John 20:24-31

Theme: Faith is a team sport.

Doctrine: Faith; Communion of the Saints; Ecclesiology

Image: Yellowstone & the bears

Mission: To have respect and hospitality for many different "kinds" in the church.

Need: To trust that, if there is room for everyone, there is room for you in the church.

Illustration

Two summers ago, I lived and worked at Yellowstone National Park. When I arrived in the park, it was late Spring, the season when the bears descend from the high places to the lowlands to hunt for berries and amuse the tourists with their visible antics. Well, I had been there two weeks and hadn't seen a bear for myself. I heard stories, I saw pictures, tracks and other, less delicate, evidence of the bears. And yet, no bear spotting. I began to doubt the existence of these "mythological creatures," these so-called "bears." But, of course, it was pointless to share my skepticism with other park employees. They would just tell me glowing stories of the bear that was following them down the trail and the time one guy almost walked in between a mama and her cubs. And that is all well and good for them. But, as Thomas knows full well, having people tell you about their experience of something is light-worlds apart from experiencing it yourself. Bears? Heh. Unless I saw them for myself, I was not going to believe.

The Trouble with Thomas

Have you ever wondered where Thomas was? I mean the first time the Risen Christ appeared. Where was Thomas? "Thomas was not with the disciples when Jesus came." After four weeks of studying the disciples' stories of life in the immediate aftermath of the Resurrection, it's not entirely surprising that Thomas was missing, is it? Every person confronted with the death of Jesus was devastated in their own way. And some of us retreat when attacked. Maybe Thomas is one of those people. We don't know.

We do know that, unlike the travelers on the road to Emmaus, Thomas came back of his own accord. And when Thomas returns to his place among the disciples, his buddies can't wait to tell him: "We have seen the LORD!" Rather than saying to them, "Great! I'll totally take your word on that," Thomas doubts. Can you blame him? "We have seen the LORD!" Sensible people don't just take that piece of information without question! It's intellectually dubious, for starters. And for finishers, well, if I were Thomas, I guess I'd want to know – why them? How come they get to see Jesus? It's not fair! I'm never in the right place at the right time! If he's already irritated, a bunch of yahoos gloating about their spiritual experience isn't going to help.

I refuse to call this dear disciple "Doubting Thomas." I think it's a horrible nickname that's dogged him for far too long. One commentator acknowledges the same unfortunate treatment of Thomas. He says, "Thomas is not Judas." Thomas doesn't betray Jesus. He wonders how such a thing as the resurrection could be. Then, to be fair, he does issue a rather cheeky challenge – to his community and, ultimately, to God. "Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe." Cheeky words! No doubt about it. And some of us, if we are honest, expect God to show up with thunder in His voice and lightening in his fists. Maybe the disciples cocked their heads to look up at the ceiling and scooted away from Thomas, just in case Divine bursts of meteorology were about to crack the plaster above them. But instead. . .nothing. . .or, at least, nothing yet.

The Trouble with Us

Thomas doubted. No question. But the most important characteristic of Thomas is not his doubt. It's what he does with his doubt. The same is true for us. The most important characteristic of our faith is not whether we doubt. Instead, it is what we do with doubt. Remember back to my summer in Yellowstone. Two weeks in. No bears. At that point, I had a choice to make.

1) I could have packed up my stuff, hitched the first greyhound back to my suburban life of Target and Starbucks. Then my doubt would have become self-fulfilling prophecy. And I would probably still secretly doubt the existence of bears in Yellowstone National Park. OR

2) I could have doubted the way Thomas in this passage doubts. I could have done my doubting in the community of the persuaded. I could have stayed where I was most likely to encounter bears scampering along hiking trails and parking themselves, most obviously (and inconveniently) outside cabin doors or wandering through campgrounds.

Time out from the analogy, for a minute. When I meet folks who've stopped going to church, next to citing the hypocrisy they observed among church people, the second excuse most people use is: "I have doubts."

As if doubt is the end of the conversation! But, in fact, doubt is the beginning of the best conversations! In Mark 9 we read the story of a Father who asked Jesus to heal his son –

"If you are able to do anything, take pity on us and help us."

Jesus replies, "'IF you can?' Everything is possible for one who believes."

"Immediately the boy's father exclaimed, 'I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief."

Commenting on this encounter, the American novelist, Flannery O'Connor, wrote: " The experience of losing your faith, or of having lost it, is an experience that in the long run belongs to faith; or at least it can belong to faith. . . 'Lord, I believe; help my unbelief' is the most natural and most human and most agonizing prayer in the Gospels, and I think it is the foundation prayer of faith."

The Grace of Jesus to Thomas

Thomas does not use his uncertainty as license to abandon faith. How do I know that? Because of this – because of what He did with his doubt. Despite disbelief, skepticism and maybe even anger, Thomas remained where God was most likely to show up. Hebrews 10:25 cautions us, "Do not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing but encourage one another and all the more as you see the day approaching." Thomas uses his doubt to fuel his quest for truth. Better yet, the Risen Christ used the platform of Thomas' doubt to reveal Himself in truth.

"A week later." That's right. A whole week later "Jesus came and stood among them."
A week later, Jesus again appears to the disciples only, this time, "Thomas is with them." Greater than any character flaw or doubt or cheeky challenge, it is these four words that define the character of the man: "Thomas is with them." Thomas had his doubts. But Thomas stuck it out in a place where it was most likely that the Risen Christ would show up. Through it all, his faith was not his own, he was fed and kept and nourished by the community of faith around him. And, eventually, "a week later," the Risen Christ shows up. Jesus speaks peace to all in the room and then he turns to Thomas. The tone of his address is hard to determine. Typically, folks make Jesus out to be angry or frustrated, disappointed or annoyed. But we don't know that from the text. What we know is that each verb Jesus uses is a command: Put. See. Reach out. Put. Stop doubting. Clearly it is important to Jesus that Thomas understands this. It is crucial to Jesus that Thomas receives what is needed.

And the result of Thomas' encounter with the Risen Christ shouldn't surprise us. When Jesus finally appears and singles out Thomas, in that moment, in that transaction, what had previously only been the stories of others became Thomas' own experience with the Risen Christ. His response was immediate and unwavering, like that of the women at the tomb. Like the traveler's to Emmaus who could barely contain themselves as they sprinted back into their life of faith. Like Peter who jumps out of his boat to get to shore. Thomas responds: "My Lord and My God."

The Grace of Jesus to Us

What is Jesus' final evaluation of Thomas: "Because you have seen me, you have believed." That doesn't sound like a disciple who should be required to carry the title "Doubting" through all of church history, does it? In fact, that sounds very much like faith – even if it wasn't a straight and compliant journey. Even if it wasn't a childlike or easy faith. It's still faith. And even Jesus acknowledges that.

More recent commentators have decided in favor of a new nickname for Thomas – one that I like much better – AND one that is found in the text itself. "Thomas (also known as Didymus)." Thomas, is Aramaic for "twin." Didymus is Greek for "twin." Doesn't the remind you of Cephas, called Peter? Cephas and Peter are Aramaic and Greek for "the Rock."

Thomas the Twin. Much better. It even has the added benefit of alliteration! But, seriously, here is why it is a helpful name – Scripture never tells us who Thomas' twin is. Preachers like to speculate that He is a twin to us all. That in Thomas' story, we find one of our own. For better or for worse, this is our kin.

Some of us here reckon ourselves to be identical twins with the-Thomas-formerly-known-as-Doubting. Maybe you're a mathematician, still trying to get Christianity into a formula or chart or diagram of some sort. Maybe the messiness of life has made it impossible for you to latch onto the truth of a good God. Maybe you are waiting for the Risen Christ to show up in your life. We are Thomas' identical twins. And we've got our doubts.

It takes a great deal of courage, a healthy dose of tenacity to have faith when our sight grows dim. To believe, even while we waver and doubt, is still faith. Because the opposite of faith isn't doubt. The opposite of faith is certainty. It doesn't take faith to assert that 2 + 2 = 4. Christianity isn't an algebra equation. Christianity is a story. A story that beckons and invites and welcomes our participation. We can admit our doubt. And then we can admit our desire to believe and ask God to meet us in the midst of our muddled up and messy jumble of faith and doubt. We can "not stop meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing." We could, instead, position ourselves with the best possible vantage point to see the Risen Christ when he comes. And isn't the best possible vantage point in the midst of the assembled people of God?

But, of course, within the assembled people of God, some of us aren't identical twins with Thomas. Some folks have the certainty of those with an easy and early relationship with the Risen Christ. We are the ones meeting Thomas at the door: "We have seen the LORD!" Or else we are the ones Jesus commends. We are the ones "who have not seen and yet believe." Don't get too big a head. You've still got that fraternal twin Thomas to drag around with you.

Series Conclusion

Think about what it means to be the church. We are called the community of faith. Faith may be – in fact, should be -- something that each individual has BUT your faith, my faith is all, ultimately, OUR faith. We are in this venture together. And we are in it for the long haul.

Do you remember how, four weeks ago, I made you look at the person sitting next to you in the pew? Could you do that again, please? Humor me. And now look across the sanctuary. This is your community of faith. Our neighborhood extends well beyond these doors. We've learn that lesson so well this year. And I'm proud of what we have discovered. But there is a neighborhood built into this sanctuary as well. We are in this venture together. We are in it for the long haul. Faith is a team sport. Folks, take a good look because this is your team.

On this team, , we have been gifted with the challenge of figuring out how to enact 4^th century theologian, Augustine's, words:

In the essentials, unity.

In the non-essentials, liberty &diversity.

Over all things, charity.

Here's why this matters so very much – if we cannot figure out how to hold onto each other in the essentials. If we allow non-essentials to divide us, I'm not sure we'll be able to survive. I worry about this sometimes. Not in this church so much. But in our classis – our geographical grouping of churches. And in our denomination. And in the Church Universal. If we cannot figure out how to hold on to one another in the essentials, if we let the non-essentials divide us, I'm not sure we can survive.

Colossians 3 tells us, "Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the LORD forgave you. And over all these virtues, put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body, you were called to peace."

As members of one body, the resurrection of Jesus Christ is our only truly legitimate source of unity. "Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said." When the women at the tomb heard those words and encountered the Risen Christ, they overcame their fear in order to obey Jesus' command "Go and tell." When Peter sat over a daybreak campfire with the Risen Christ, he overcame his shame and failure in order to obey Jesus' command "Feed my sheep." And the travelers to Emmaus? They just needed some reassurance that all was not lost by following Jesus. And the Risen Christ used the familiar things of the world and the familiar ritual of the Table to nourish their faith. And Thomas the Twin? He wasn't going to make it on his own but, in the community of faith, the Risen Christ appeared to him too. Different people. Different needs. One Risen Christ. One Church Universal.

Thanks be to God.

No Woman’s Land

2009-05-05T21:15:00.001-04:00

So, I was listening to NPR this afternoon -- Fresh Air to be specific -- and it was an interview I thought I was going to enjoy. Ayelet Waldman, a feminist author of the Mommy-Track Mysteries, about a lawyer who stays home to raise her kids. There's something there that's likeable enough. It's bound to be an interesting conversation, right? About women and the choices we have to make and how we find balance, etc. And then she starts in a decision she and her husband made to abort their fourth child and still, I was like, it's a conversation worth hearing. Agree/disagree, whatever. Why do women make the decisions they do. And THEN she starts in on a detailed description of the procedure --

So, I switched the radio to the local Christian station, looking for something wholesome and soothing, only to discover a sweet round-table conversation with a group of women about the role of a Christian wife and mother. There's something there that's likeable enough. It's bount to be an interesting conversation, right? About women and the choices we have to make and how we find balance, etc. And then one women talks about marrying into her husband's "ideal" family with a mother in apron and pearls and a father who was a real "man's man," providing for the family and always having the last word and still, I was like, it's a conversation worth hearing. Agree/disagree, whatever. Why do women make the decisions they do. And THEN she starts in on how submission changed her life and she always lets (makes?) her husband have the final word --

So, I switched off my radio altogether and fumed. There IS a middle ground, right? Women who stay home with kids. Women who opt for traditional gender roles (tradition dating back to 1950). Women who work inside and outside the home. Women who take advantage of choice (and potentially make the wrong one.)

There IS a middle ground. I should know. I'm trying to walk it. But it ain't easy. And there isn't a ton o' company on the journey. It's No-Woman's Land and, somedays, I'm just relieved to dodge the cross-fire.

No-woman's Land

2009-05-05T20:36:00.004-04:00

So, I was listening to NPR this afternoon -- Fresh Air to be specific -- and it was an interview I thought I was going to enjoy. Ayelet Waldman, a feminist author of the Mommy-Track Mysteries, about a lawyer who stays home to raise her kids. There's something there that's likeable enough. It's bound to be an interesting conversation, right? About women and the choices we have to make and how we find balance, etc. And then she starts in a decision she and her husband made to abort their fourth child and still, I was like, it's a conversation worth hearing. Agree/disagree, whatever. Why do women make the decisions they do. And THEN she starts in on a detailed description of the procedure --

So, I switched the radio to the local Christian station, looking for something wholesome and soothing, only to discover a sweet round-table conversation with a group of women about the role of a Christian wife and mother. There's something there that's likeable enough. It's bount to be an interesting conversation, right? About women and the choices we have to make and how we find balance, etc. And then one women talks about marrying into her husband's "ideal" family with a mother in apron and pearls and a father who was a real "man's man," providing for the family and always having the last word and still, I was like, it's a conversation worth hearing. Agree/disagree, whatever. Why do women make the decisions they do. And THEN she starts in on how submission changed her life and she always lets (makes?) her husband have the final word --

So, I switched off my radio altogether and fumed. There IS a middle ground, right? Women who stay home with kids. Women who opt for traditional gender roles (tradition dating back to 1950). Women who work inside and outside the home. Women who take advantage of choice (and potentially make the wrong one.)

There IS a middle ground. I should know. I'm trying to walk it. But it ain't easy. And there isn't a ton o' company on the journey. It's No-Woman's Land and, somedays, I'm just relieved to dodge the cross-fire.

Christ Revealed @ the Table

2009-05-03T14:48:00.001-04:00

Text: Luke 24:13-35

Theme: When we are lost, we find our way again at the Table.

Doctrine: Sacrament; The Lord's Table

Image: HAD hoped à will come

Need: To sense, again the importance of the Lord's Table -- To find our way.

Mission: To come to the Lord's Table prepared to discern the Body and find our way home.

Trouble in the Text

They must have been devastated, don't you think? "He was a prophet," they said. "Powerful in word and deed before God and all the people." And he had been their teacher. Who knows what they had taken on or what they had left behind to follow Jesus. They had put all their eggs in this one basket. They had bet the farm on a dream. And Friday afternoon, just two days ago, their dream was hung on a Cross like so much criminal trash. Jesus died. "But we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel."
"We had hoped. . ." It is the most heartbreaking line in the whole account. Not just: "They hoped," but "They HAD hoped." They had hoped and now? Well, the whole thing has proved nothing more than a fool's errand. Proverbs 13:2 says "Hope deferred makes the heart sick." We have some heartsick traveler's on our hands here this morning.

It's the first day of the new week. It's the first day of a new life without Jesus. You know, we don't know, we aren't told in the story why they are going to Emmaus. Are they returning -- to their former trades or families? Or are they escaping Jerusalem, with its reminders of Jesus' humiliation, of their shame? With leaden legs, our disciples begin their seven mile journey. Away from discipleship. Away from all that had defined them. Away from the one thing that had made sense, the one still point in their chaotic lives. Away from a tomb, which some claimed was empty but . . . "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice. . ." Well, the disciples weren't going to make that mistake again. They had put their lives on hold for long enough. "We had hoped. . ." It was the first day of the week. It was the first day of a new life without Jesus.

Putting physical distance between themselves and Jerusalem didn't seem to be working, though. The experiences of Jesus, the tangible brutality of suffering, the undeniable certainty of his death, could not have been far from their minds, far from their souls. "We had hoped. . ."

Along the way, they pick up a straggler. A lone traveler who joins their party as they trudge along toward Emmaus or away from Jerusalem. And their companion speaks, "What are you discussing together as you walk along?" If sandals could make the sound of rubber tires screeching on asphalt, I think theirs might have. How does he not know? This event has decimated them. How is it that anyone in the world could not know? "Are you only a visitor to Jerusalem and do not know the things that have happened there in these days?"

Truth be told, religious sectarians crucified was a common enough occurrence in Jerusalem. It would have been a mighty slow news day in the Roman Empire for this story to be picked up. It wasn't the talk of Jerusalem, really, but for those who had turned their backs on everything else in order to follow Jesus, it was the only conversation that mattered. "We had hoped. . ."

Jesus went on and "explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself." They were clearly impressed, for they asked him to stay on with them. At the same time, it wasn't his words that opened the gate for their understanding. In hindsight, they'll admit that Jesus' teaching caused their hearts to burn within them. But at the time, it wasn't his words that opened the gate for their understanding. His words were comforting, perhaps. Intriguing, almost certainly. Maybe even familiar. But teaching about Jesus (even BY Jesus-incognito) is not the same thing as recognizing the Risen LORD for themselves.

Trouble in the World

I wonder if you've ever had an experience of teaching like that? A time of great personal pain or loss and, sure, you heard the minister read the words of the Psalm at the graveside. You were there in your hospital bed, a medically captive listener, when your friend shared an extraordinarily hope-filled verse of Scripture with you. You heard it. You couldn't have missed it. You may have even agreed in your mind that such a thing was true. But it didn't penetrate the core of your heart-sickness. "We had hoped. . ." You know those words, don't you?

We had hoped that Jesus would keep us free of disease.
We had hoped that our belief in the resurrection might suck all the pain out of our grieving.
We had hoped for happily ever after.
We had hoped for children of our own.
We had hoped that children of our own would take to faith without doubt or rebellion.
We had hoped for health and clarity of mind for our loved ones in old age.

We had hoped with so much expectation of what life owed us. And life has fallen woefully short of what we thought was the Maker's guarantee. And when that happens, we even begin to doubt the promise of Jesus Christ -- that he came so that we might have life and have it to the full, abundantly. We had hoped. . .

For the travelers on their way to Emmaus, this is the day after the crisis. The day after the funeral. The day after the diagnosis. Maybe you know that moment too. The confused barrage of handshaking has stilled. The shared stories and memories of the loved one have stilled. The casserole-toting church members and the well-meaning pastor have all gone home. They have all returned to "life as normal." But for you? Life as normal? What does that even mean? There is no such thing. Try as you might, the trappings and landmarks of normal are nowhere to be found in this barren stretch of the journey. You are on the road to Emmaus.

Grace in the Text

When you are on the road to Emmaus, you need more than words. The disciples did too. They sat down at Table with their strange, insightful companion. Of course, when we read this text, that Jesus "took the break, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them," our eyes move automatically to this Table, don't they? But, it's unlikely that these disciples were at Jesus' Last Supper. Cleopas isn't a name we have for any of the 12 disciples. So, the power of the image, the power of the action goes beyond one evening spent by a few in an upper room. The story, it turns out, is bigger than one moment.

Turn with me to Luke, chapter 9. Beginning in verse 10, we have the story of Jesus feeding the five thousand. Jesus commands the disciples to feed all the hungry people. The disciples balk at the command – "We only have this much" – offering up two fish and five loaves. Now look at verse 16. "Taking the fives loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke them. Then he gave them to the disciples to set before the people." Taking. Giving thanks. Breaking the bread and giving it to the disciples. It's the same language and, no doubt, there was a sameness in the way Jesus did it.

Now flip to the book of Acts, chapter 27. Paul is sailing for Rome, where he will face trial and, later, death. On the way, his boat encounters a fierce Mediterranean storm. For fourteen nights the sailors did whatever it is sailors do to keep their boat from sinking. But Paul promises the men than those who stay with him have the protection of God Almighty. Just before dawn on the last night, Paul urged the men to eat: "You have been in constant suspense for the past fourteen days and you haven't eaten anything. You must eat to survive." After he said this, the text tells us, "He took some bread and gave thanks to God in front of them all. Then he broke it and began to eat. They were all encouraged and ate some food themselves."

"We had hoped. . ." the sailors said. With nearly all of their strength sapped and their courage drained, Paul invites them to find hope again. "You must eat to survive." Took. Gave thanks. Broke it. It is the same scene, recreated in crisis. The same scene which we will, again, recreate together this morning. The story, it turns out, is bigger than one moment.

Back on the road to Emmaus, "Their eyes were opened and they recognized him, and he disappeared from their sight." Stuffing bread hastily into their pockets, the men sprinted out the door, back to Jerusalem. A journey made with leaden feet is reversed. "How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion, 'Your God reigns!'" And they told the disciples, "How Jesus was recognized by them when they broke the bread."

Grace in the World

Jesus was recognized by those disciples on their way to Emmaus long ago in the breaking of the bread. Jesus is recognized by us, disciples on our own roads to Emmaus, yet today in the breaking of the Bread. We come to this Table because, sometimes, words themselves cannot contain the grace of God.

Theologian N.T. Wright says it like this: "We break bread and drink wine together, telling the story of Jesus and his death, because Jesus knew that this set of actions would explain the meaning of his death in a way that nothing else – no theories, no clever ideas – could ever do. After all, when Jesus died for our sins, it wasn't so he could fill our minds with true ideas, however important they may be, but so he could DO something, namely rescue us from evil and death."

Are you on the road to Emmaus this morning? Is your heart sick with hope deferred? Is your soul weary from "having hoped" to no avail? Sure you know Scripture. And your brain is eager to assent to its truth. But Jesus did not come only "so he could fill our minds with true ideas, however important they may be." Jesus rose from the grave to rescue us from despair. From hopelessness. From evil and from death.

The Lord's Supper is, for us, a thin-place. Where the majesty of heaven is brought low to the earth by the ordinary elements of bread and wine. The Lord's Supper is, for us, a thin-place. Where the hungry 5000 on a hillside and the inner circle of 12 in the upper room and the frightened and weary sailors close to death are brought close to us through shared ritual – which is not a dirty word! And the future fulfillment of Christ's Kingdom throws a hand of hope back to those of us still walking the road to Emmaus.

This Table is not a life as normal moment. It is an anchor in turbulent seas. It is a glimmer of hope when we had thought our time of hoping was all dried up. It is a feeding of the many from the One Body of Christ.

So, you see, when the Risen LORD appears to you, life as normal is no option. Life as normal? There is no such thing. You are on the road to Emmaus this morning. And Jesus travels with you. In a few minutes, this Table will be set. And we will come.

Sisters and brothers in Christ,

We will come because, when it comes to the Risen Christ, our Bread of Life, we "must eat to survive."
We will come because we can't always quote the right answer, chapter and verse.
We will come because Christ wants us to know Him and the power of His resurrection.
We will come because the Risen Christ, who lives in us is our only HOPE of glory.
We will come because we are lost.
We will come because the Risen Christ is the only landmark by which the geography of our lives makes any sense.

In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sometimes it feels like this. . .

2009-05-02T11:08:00.002-04:00

Wearing the Robe

by Jessica Rivera

Who am I…?

I wonder this sometimes
Mostly on Sunday mornings
As I sit uncomfortably in the high backed chair; looking at red-painted toes in my favorite high heels
Poking out from underneath the white-robe of my position

I wonder at this when eyes travel to wonder at my earrings
As I speak earnestly of faith
When I am introduced as the “girl Pastor” to visitors who shake my hand and say “wow, I’ve never had a girl Pastor before-- you’re pretty good”
As if this was surprising because I was born with different parts than they expected
To be wearing this white-robe

In my secret chats with God I ask the question
And wonder about dating and children
“I am a woman” I say to God “can I be a lover and a pastor too?”
Or does love require a quiet and demure woman instead of a preacher?
And does the white robe fit over 9 month’s pregnant belly?

God answers the question
Not always on Sunday morning
But always quietly, almost mischievously
When whispered conversations with teenagers in camping-tents lead to thoughts of Jesus
When babies cry at warm water embrace of faith
When harmony breaks loose in wooden pews, lifting faith song
And call comes clear in bright colors
You are my chosen one, God says
And white robe becomes swaddling cloth of becoming; instead of the bondage
Of my position.

Originally posted at Fidelia's Sisters, an amazing e-zine for young clergy women.

Celebrate Good Times, Come On!

2009-05-01T17:24:00.002-04:00

Rev Gal Blog Pals has provided me this wonderful exercise in Friday afternoon procrastination -- another Friday Five (thank you, RGBP!)

1. Are ritual markings of birth, marriage and death important to you?

Yes, although I have *thankfully* experienced few personal losses. I am learning the importance of rituals surrounding death by walking through them with those in my church.

I am very much looking forward to my first baptism! I am an amateur quilter and I like to make a baby blanket to go along with the event. Then there is this liturgy:

______, for you the world was created.
For you, Jesus Christ came into the world:
For you, he lived and died for all our sin.
For you, he rose triumphant over death, ascending to reign at the Father's right hand.
For you, Christ is coming again.
All this God did for you, __________,
Before you knew anything of it.
And so Scripture is fulfilled:
"We love because God first loved us."

Finally, I love to sing the Aaronic blessing as a lullaby at an infant's baptism.

3. If you could invent ( or have invented) a ritual what is it for?

I had a professor in seminary who very carefully celebrated baptism-birthdays with his family. I would love to make a home visit to drop off a cupcake for a child on the first anniversary of their baptism, along with a laminated liturgy that the family can continue using to celebrate the event.

4. What do you think of making connections with neo-pagan / ancient festivals? Have you done this and how?

I celebrate Christmas don't I?

5. Celebrating is important, what and where would your ideal celebration be?

It would involve good food, old friends, relaxed hospitality, wine and chocolate.

Leading for the Love of God!

2009-04-25T12:09:00.002-04:00

Text: John 21:15-25

Theme: God's love is the only steady & sure foundation for life in ministry.

Need: Self-confidence God-confidence to minister & lead others well.

Introduction

Ah, Peter. Let's remind ourselves what we know about Peter, shall we? At the time of this interchange, Peter had been officially retired from the fishing for fish business about three years. It was about three years ago he met Jesus. And Jesus, according to John's account, "looked at him and said, 'You are Simon, son of John. You will be called Cephas' (which, translated to Greek means Peter and translated to English means Rock.)" With that, Simon or, rather, Peter signed on with Jesus for an upstart new project, "Fishing for people," it was called.

This new business venture had its ups-and-downs. Big in the plus column were all the miracles he witnessed. Also, there was something truly satisfying about watching the way his Rabbi, Jesus, could turn the Pharisee's trick questions inside out, walking away with his head held high, while the accusers were left scratching theirs. Of course, there were the ridiculous things Jesus sometimes said that left Peter uncertain and a little embarrassed. And the disturbing death of Jesus' cousin John. But then there was the time that Jesus called Peter to walk on water!

It wasn't too much later when Jesus asked the disciples, "Who do people say that I am?" And the disciples hemmed and hawed a bit – this person says this. That person says that. "But what about you?" Jesus pressed. "Who do you say that I am?" And who knows whether it was the teachings or the miracles or all of it all together but Peter's words just burst out of him (as words often did with Peter), "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God." And Jesus smiled. "Blessed are you. . .for this was not revealed to you by humans, but by my Father in heaven. And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church and the gates of Hades will not overcome it. . .And I give you the keys of the kingdom and power on earth as in heaven. . ." And Peter's head and heart must have just about exploded. Peter had gotten it oh-so-terribly-right.

And then Jesus started talking all crazy again – explaining that he had to suffer under the very authorities he had so recently confounded, that he would die and there was something about being raised up – whatever that meant! Peter took him aside, "This shall never happen to you!" And Jesus dismissed him, "Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of human thinking." And Peter's head and heart must have just about exploded. Peter had gotten it oh-so-terribly-wrong.

But Peter doesn't stop. Turn to Luke 22, in verses 31 and following there is this exchange between Jesus and Peter:

"Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for your, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers." But Simon Peter corrected Jesus (when is he going to learn that this is not a good idea?) "LORD, I am ready to go with you to prison and to death." Peter, it seems, was one of those people who talked a bigger game than he could deliver.

"I tell you, Peter, before the rooster crows today, you will deny three times that you know me." And Jesus was right. Peter, big talking Peter, fell far short of his dreams and aspirations of going all the way to death for Jesus. Sure enough, he denied Jesus three times. And, sure enough, the rooster crowed.

Trouble in the World

That's a lot of personal history to drag into any encounter with the Risen LORD. But, then again, who doesn't drag a lot of personal history into most of their relationships, let alone an encounter with the Risen LORD?

When it comes to living in relationship with the Risen LORD, who hasn't fallen far short of their dreams and aspirations of going the distance?

I'm going to get up at 6:30 every day to spend an hour in prayer and Bible Study.
This is the summer that I'm going to ask all my neighbors to come to VBS with me.
10%? This year, it's 15% in the offering plate every Sunday!
I am going to serve God – in the church, at work, in my family – in such a way that they will ALWAYS see Christ shining in EVERYTHING I do.
LORD, I am ready to go with you to prison and to death!

Peter, it seems, is not the only one who talks a bigger game than he can deliver. And what happens when we fall flat? We don't want to look up and see that hurt look in Jesus' eyes. Knowing that we're in the wrong, we don't want to bring it up. "Maybe Jesus hasn't noticed the putrid smell of failure between us," we reason. And we miss out on the easy back and forth, all blocked up by unresolved, unforgiven failures.

Trouble in the Text

So sat Peter, around the campfire with his cohorts, early morning chill and the lingering weight of freshly caught and cooked fish in their bellies. But, for Peter, the weight of failure is sitting heavy too.

"You are Simon, Son of John, You will be called 'Peter, the Rock.'" Yet, could anyone be more unsteady than he had proved to be? "I will build my church on this Rock." But that was then, when he had gotten it oh-so-terribly right. Now all Peter knows is that he is in the oh-so-terribly wrong. "When you have turned back, strengthen your brothers." Well, this at any rate, he has tried to do, but now. . .

"Simon, Son of John (notice that Jesus doesn't opt for the old familiar nickname. There is still something unresolved between them) Simon, Son of John, Do you truly love me more than these?" Here the commentators assure us that Jesus does not mean more than the broiled fish but rather, "Do you love me more than you love your brothers, your fishing buddies and fellow disciples?" "Yes, LORD, you know that we are friends," Peter responds. Three times the question, three times the answer. By the last go-around, Peter is hurt.

Three times Peter denied Jesus. Three times, Jesus makes sure of Peter's love. It's the most popular interpretation of this exchange. Well, without arguing against that interpretation, I want to push against it a little. I was talking with someone this week who said, "isn't that kind of mean of Jesus? To rub salt into an open wound – "Hey, Peter remember that first time you denied me? Now do you remember the second time? And the third?" No wonder Peter was hurt by this approach. "Okay, I get it! I'm a screw-up! I know I'm a screw-up. You know I'm a screw-up. All my friends know I'm a screw-up. Seriously!"

Grace in the Text

But what if Jesus is not, primarily, looking back at Peter's failure? The Bible teaches us that humans look at the externals, while God looks at the heart. Jesus, being God, saw into Peter's heart. Despite all of Peter's faults, one thing is true of Peter: He does want to die for Jesus. In the past, Peter's heart had been bigger than his will. But Jesus knows something that Peter doesn't. Jesus knows the end of the story – or in this case, the end of Peter's story. Jesus also knows that, up ahead, Peter is going to be imprisoned and stoned and challenged by false teachings. Peter who was ultimately led to a Cross of his own.

John 15:13 "Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends." Peter's response to Jesus in John 21, "Yes, LORD, you know that we are friends."

If you remember last week, we saw that an encounter with the RISEN LORD fundamentally changed the course of life for the women at the tomb (the whole church) and spurred them on to "Go and tell!" The RISEN LORD continued appearing to the disciples because Jesus is passionate about equipping his beloved for the long haul. Peter, who was quick to love with word, needed enough grounding to also love with actions and in truth. And the only foundation, the only sure and steady foundation to sustain a life of ministry, like Peter's, is the Love of God.

"Do you love me?" "Follow me. Don't worry about this person or that person, what I have in store for them. We're not talking about anyone else. It's just you and me, Peter. Do you love me? You follow me!"

Just as the weight of his previous failure travelled with Peter into his encounter with the RISEN LORD, don't doubt for one second that Peter's encounter with the RISEN LORD travelled with him through the remainder of his days. Through stoning and imprisonment – "Do you love me?" Accusations and even disapproval within the churches -- "LORD, you know we are friends." Even unto death -- "Follow me." At the last, Peter's heart and his will aligned – "Greater love has no one than this, that one lays down one's life for a friend." Jesus knew the end of Peter's story. Jesus knew that Peter's failure would one day be eclipsed by strength and courage deeply rooted in God's love. And Jesus loved Peter enough to provide him with the encouragement he would need to keep on going in a life that was not going to be easy.

Grace in the World

Jesus knows that his command, "Feed my sheep" is never as easy in practice as it sounds in theory. "Feed my sheep" is never as easy in practice as it sounds in theory. A gifted teacher and fellow pastor once said this: "God is not easy on those who minister, just because God calls them. God is not easy on the people God calls." This is certainly the case for Peter. And it is the case for many of us. God never promises that the Christian life is easy. Anyone who promises you that, is offering you something quite different than a radical life of loving and following Jesus. Jesus doesn't promise any of us a break in the storm. But the RISEN LORD does do everything in his power to equip us to stand firm through even the most treacherous storms. This is a word for leaders in the church, for whom caving to the winds around them may be an easier solution than standing firmly on the Truth of God's Word in the company of Christ's Body. But it is also a word for every single one of us who stare down teasing, bullying, depression or opposition in our daily lives. "Do you love me? Follow me."

One of my favorite authors is a Catholic priest named Henri Nouwen. It is a rare gift to find a Christian author so willing to be gut-wrenchingly honest about his struggles. More often than not, he felt like Peter with the weight of broiled fish and guilt in his belly. Near the end of his life, Henri Nouwen experienced a physical and emotional breakdown. All of the wonderful work he had done – the lecturing, the counseling, the academics and writing finally overwhelmed him. He wrote about his doubt. He wrote about his encounters with the RISEN LORD. As he wrestled with his own perceived failure and uselessness, he wrote this question:

"Is there a quiet stream underneath the fluctuating affirmations and rejections of my little world? Is there a still point where my life is anchored and from which I can reach out with hope and courage and confidence?"

Completely failing in self-confidence, Henri Nouwen, like Peter, discovered a God-confidence that allowed him to reach out with hope, courage and confidence from the anchored place of the RISEN LORD's love and acceptance. And, despite his previous failure, he wrote. He wrote and he wrote and he wrote. Today his writings are translated into many languages and sustain the lives of Christians the world over. Christians, like me and you who sometimes wonder what God's love is enough to sustain us through the storms.

"Do you love me? I will be your quiet stream, your still point and life's anchor. Follow me."

I'm Reading Again

2009-04-11T11:34:00.002-04:00

My 8-month-iversary is next week, Tax Day to be exact. And, at last, I have had what I might call a good week.

Not to say that I haven't done good work up until now. I trust too much in the Holy Spirit saving our sorry selves from our sorry selves to deny that God has shown up in me, through me and despite me at points throughout the past eight months. But, as I confessed in staff meeting last week, the first few months felt like I was drowning in the big-kid side of the pool. The next six months have been a process of treading water. Keeping it calm on the surface, I knew that I was flailing just to keep buoyant. But, in the past week, it's like I've been given the great gift of a pool noodle. That, too, must be the Holy Spirit (although I don't think that "pool noodle" is an officially sanctioned, Biblical name for our Great Comforter.)

Not to say the week has gone by perfectly. . .just that it has gone by at a reasonable pace. Perfect, I am not. When you completely blank out on the Communion Liturgy -- "take, eat, remember and believe. . .(oh crap! What do I believe again? Something about sin and forgiveness. Oh, for the love of God, Brain, say something coherent about sin and forgiveness.)" Who knew that they "remember" part of that liturgy was so important!

Yet, I am where I am meant to be. I am who I am meant to be and those two things more-or-less coincide.

Try as I might and I have this past week, I can't quite fit the "why" of this in my cross-hairs.
Maybe it is because I've been militantly Sabbathing every since Sgt. Marva Dawn commanded me too.
Maybe it is because the weather is turning.
Maybe it is because I am not despairing over old friendships slipping away or new friendships never to be made.
Maybe it is because I can walk into my church study with a reasonable to-do list. At least I know some of the things I am supposed to be doing and, yes, that is an enormous victory.
Maybe it is because I'm finding my way around town easier.

I don't know the "why" but I know when I first realized I was going to be okay. That was an hour of my afternoon spent in my church study's comfy chair with a book. I'm no longer just a minister but I'm minister who has space within her soul, her brain and her schedule to think about ministry. No longer just a reactionary, but a reactionary who is able to chose her reactions, even sometimes opting for no reaction. At last I'm feeling as though this is what I went to seminary for.

As I read, I'm discovering a much more interesting world than my previous myopia allowed me to see. And, as my brain is engaged in something beyond survival, I'm rediscovering wonder.

*Reading The Suburban Church & Death By Suburb, I am wondering about my generation's carte blanche rejection and disdain for the suburbs and the people who live in them. I'm wondering whether/how the Winchell neighborhood can be a mission field unto itself and what that might mean for the witnessing life of Third Church, not to mention this witnessing life of their Minister of Witness. Does commitment to ministry in my context require a physical residency in that context?

*Reading Marva Dawn on Sabbath is reminding me that pastors are NOT intended to be "quivering masses of availability" (as Richard Lisscher so eloquently puts it.) Rather, "though it fits so well with our 'compulsive society,' there should be no such thing as a 'busy pastor.'" Perhaps this is why having an hour to read in my church study feels like a triumph of myself as pastor over unfair, unjust and uneducated expectation.

*Reading novels (currently The Power of One by Bryce Courtenay) shows me that there is beauty yet to be found in cleverly strung together words. That story can still meet soul like a left-uppercut to a glass jaw. And it leaves me wanting more. More words. More beauty. More story and, most importantly, more of myself as a crafter of words and a preacher of Word.

*Reading books on spiritual leadership in congregations is bubbling dreams to the surface -- dreams of what council meetings could be. Of how lay-persons volunteering their time can become pastors instead of just managers. Of how leaders comfortable with Robbert's Rule can also be comfortable praying out loud with and for the people they are called to serve.

*Reading Last Child in the Woods along with Winchell Elementary School's book club, I'm wondering about the soul's health in relationship to the natural world. In Hebrew, the word for human and the word for earth are only one letter separate, after all. (adam/adamah) How can I find my play, more wonder? Do I need more time outdoors? I think I do. So now I'm off for a walk in the woods. . .how very transendentalist of me!

And as, with more reading comes more thinking, with more thinking ought to come more blogging. I know I've made shallow promises of this nature before. I shan't do so again but I now wonder whether there is an intrinsic link between my spiritual/emotional/intellectual life and my desire/energy/capacity to write -- whether it be here or elsewhere.

Preparing for a Snowed-In Sabbath

2009-02-20T18:07:00.003-05:00

Hello my people!

It is Friday here in irreverently-reverend-land. Tomorrow, we've been promised 6-8 inches of snow and I. Am. Ready.
* Pantry's stocked
* Refrigerator is full
* I have baking and cooking projects ready for me.
* The apartment is sparkling and tidy.
* Laundry's done!
* I have books and magazines on the coffee table.
* I have movies from Netflicks.
Also,
* Sunday morning is prepared.
* Sunday evening's teaching is outlined.
* I'm going to a movie with some women from church tonight. And, after that,

LET IT SNOW, LET IT SNOW, LET IT SNOW!

Over at RevGalBlogPals, the traditional Friday Five asks how we like to take a break. I think I've given you an idea but here are my answers in full:

How would I spend:
1. a 15 minute break
On Facebook. If it were 20 minutes, I could sneak in an episode of The Daily Show or The Colbert Report.
2. an afternoon off
Realistically, cleaning my apartment. Assuming that the cleaning fairy has already made a
fantastical visit to my digs, I might go to Target or the Mall. If there's a decent matinee
showing, I'd check it out. Otherwise, I'd camp out at a coffee shop with a good book.
3. an unexpected free day
See above.
4. a week's vacation
My friends are spread out from coast-to-coast. I might find one to hit up for a visit and make
a roadtrip of it.
5. a sabbatical
Sigh. A sabbatical feels almost as fictitious as the cleaning fairy. 5 years and 6 months . . . but
who's counting? I want to go to Europe again. I'd love to study at Oxford or Cambridge and
then travel on the continent. Maybe go back to Taize or else to Iona for some silent retreat.
AND I can voraciously attack the stack of books that is already starting to collect.

Holding it Together

2009-02-13T23:33:00.001-05:00

Today was a three-pairs-of-shoes day. Let me explain:

1) Funeral shoes. Black. Sensible but with a heel.

2) Internment shoes. Not black. Green suede. Warm and with a platform heel. Very important as one is trying not to leave pock-marks in the ground. (Note to self -- must buy black shoes with similar platform heel in order to eradicate the change of shoe mid-car-processional-through-town.)

3) Fabulous red patent leather peek-boo sling-back 3 inch heels. For a women's "Chocolate Extravaganza" event where I was asked to give a meditation.

What is important about this blog post is NOT the run-down on my footwear (although, frankly, this is one of my female-clergy-fun-things.) It is this day's realization of all the many things we are asked to hold together as clergy. So, today for example, I spent an hour with family and loved ones of a church member who passed away this week after a long and difficult 88 years of life. I was asked to speak the words of comfort at the graveside and was amazed by the incredible power of pastoral presence and prayers at a time like that. Not, of course, that she gets into heaven on my say-so but that my say-so acknowledges the powerful working of God in accepting one of God's own children. A lamb of God's own flock. A sinner of God's own redeeming.

And then it's back to the office to prepare for Sunday evening where I am teaching on the third point of the Belhar Confession -- reconciliation. Deeply rooted in the South African church's struggle against apartheid, when the Belhar Confession speaks of reconciliation, you can be assured that it touts no platitudes about cheap forgiveness or easy forgetting. Rather, it calls us to a process, much like the one enacted by The Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Reconciliation is a 4-step process:

1) Create space within which the process of reconciliation can take place, a place in which victim and perpetrator can speak face-to-face
2) Tell the truth about the past
3) Listen to the 'sound of fury' those actions of vengeance that express legitimate rage rather than pardon
4) Recognize that victims have the right to decide about and pronounce forgiveness. This helps to restore the balance of power between perpetrator and victim.

And, I got to thinking, isn't this process almost exactly the process of the gospel of salvation?

1) The incarnation is the space within which the process of reconciliation can take place. Through Scripture and prayer, the Holy Spirit works so that God and sinner can speak face-to-face
2) In confession, we tell the truth about our past.
3) We hear God's 'sound of fury' -- God's hatred of sin -- and acknowledge that God's is a legitimate rage
4) Recognize that God has the right to decide about and pronounce forgiveness -- and that God does and God will!

Honestly, I think some of the best theology being done today centers around understandings of forgiveness, reconciliation and the like. So, I had no trouble holing up in my office for a couple hours bullet-pointing my ideas about this for Sunday evening.

And then it was off to the women's "Chocolate Extravaganza," where I met with about 50 college-age and graduate students, many of whom are studying in the US as international students -- from Malaysia, China, Mexico, India and Saudi Arabia. Themed to acknowledge Valentine's Day, Psalm 139 teaches us that God is the witness we all need (to our lives). God is the companion (never in a different time-zone) that we all need. And that God, in Jesus Christ, is the Savior we all need (who will do whatever it takes to be the witness and companion to our lives.) I think that it went well-ish. It is always hard for me to tell in such matters.

And now I am home in my fuzzy pink slippers (I guess that makes it a 4-shoe-day!) And I am marveling at the things we are asked to hold together in ministry. A little of this. A little of that. Death and theology and chocolate. I find an immense comfort and purpose to my life as I am witness to all of these disparate snippets, companioning and walking alongside so many, if only for a moment, causes me to be deeply aware of my Savior in whom all these things really do hold together.

"The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. . .all things have been created through him and for him. he is before all things, and in him all things hold together." (Col. 1)

Exclusion & Embrace

2009-02-08T15:25:00.001-05:00

(a sermon inspired by the Holy Spirit & Miroslav Volf)

Text: Mark 1:40-45

Theme: Jesus is willing to touch us and make us clean.

Doctrine: Incarnation. God's love. Grace.

Image: Junior High School cafeteria.

Need: To stop holding God (and others) at arm's length from our disease, hurt & pain.

Mission: More authentic communion with God and amongst ourselves.

There is some confusion in translating one particular word in verse 41 of the first chapter of Mark's Gospel. I suspect you may have heard that confusion as I read from the TNIV and you followed along in your own translations. The earliest original manuscripts we have of the Gospel of Mark seem to favor this reading, that "Jesus was indignant." Your version likely says, "Jesus felt compassion" or "Jesus was filled with pity," something much more in keeping with the way we like to think of our Jesus. But, in the Greek, two very different words are used here. I mean, this isn't a typo, folks. These are two completely dissimilar words. "Jesus had compassion" or "Jesus was indignant." Actually, the word scholars translate "indignant," has the more literal meaning that "Jesus was angry." Jesus was angry. Jesus was filled with pity. Jesus felt compassion and Jesus was indignant. I want you to hold these two, seemingly contradictory images, in tension with each another as we dive back into the text this morning. Why is it that Jesus would feel. . .well, whatever it is Jesus is feeling?

Exclusion in the Text

A person approaches Jesus. But not just any person. A person with leprosy. Missing digits. Scarred face. Open wounds. A person unrecognizable beneath layers of ash and rags and filth. A person forced to announce his own presence, shouting "unclean!" "Unclean!" Warning everyone around him not to get too close. According to Jewish law, physical contact with this person – even if only accidental contact – and you may as well take white-out to your planner or the delete key to your blackberry. You weren't going to go anywhere or do anything for the next week. Add to that all the additional rigmarole of purifying sacrifices at the Temple.

Threatened with that kind of hassle, is it any wonder that folks kept their distance? But, it wasn't just the nuisance that caused people to cross to the far side of the street when they saw this man coming. Their rules, regulations, even their society was built to bypass people like this leper. Built to avoid, exclude and leave them out. Why is that? Well, partly because the law was concerned with purity. So, folks kept their distance from this leper because he was unclean. But, also, I suspect, because they were afraid of their own cleverly disguised missing digits, scarred faces and open wounds. Afraid of him because they were secretly afraid of themselves. Afraid of their dark thoughts, their persistent temptations. Afraid that, if other people really knew them, they too might be forced to walk through the streets, shouting "unclean!" "Unclean!"

But here he was. The avoided, excluded one, this left-out leper approaching Jesus. Comes begging, tripping over himself to kneel before this one. This teacher. This rabbi reported to hold power, even over demons. And he pleads with Rabbi Jesus, "if you are willing, you can make me clean." "You can make me clean." It is a declaration of faith. Only God can cleanse. So, here we have the leper's exuberant announcement of Christ's divinity. Of his power, his big-ness, his might over all creation.

God, You are able to cleanse. . .but only if you are willing. I have no doubt that you are a strong and mighty God. . .but, I can't imagine what you must think of me. I know what your people think of me. The way they keep their distance. Your priests, your righteous men and women, they can't be bothered with someone like me. I can't remember the last time my skin made contact with the skin of another human being. I feel like I'm standing on the outside of life, looking through a window at everyone else who's got it so good. Society has built nice, safe highways around the likes of me. When people walk down-wind of me, I see their noses crinkle as they look for the source of their disgust. That's me. The source of their disgust. So, Rabbi Jesus, I believe you could do this for me. But I've seen enough of life through the eyes of a leper to doubt that you will.

Exclusion in the World

Not many of us here this morning are lepers – at least, not in the strictest sense of the word. But it doesn't take a skin disease for us to know what it feels like to be excluded. You don't have to be a kid to know what it feels like to be "left out." I bet that when I was talking with the kids earlier, some of you felt that same twinge in your gut. That same shame or disappointment. It starts with not being invited to someone's birthday party. Or maybe being picked last for a dodge-ball game. What about that sinking feeling of entering a Junior High cafeteria, juggling a tray piled high and scanning the crowd for one friendly face, one empty seat? By the time we graduate from Junior High into High School, we've got a pretty good notion how this leaving out and excluding thing works.

My face still flushes when I think of the times I've been left-out and, I'm afraid, even worse, the times I've excluded others. Sometimes if feels like nothing more than a survival technique. Shun or be shunned. I am ashamed to think of it now but "Exclusion" is the name of a sin that everyone of us has either felt the effects of, as either the excluded or the excluders. Probably both, if we are honest.

Zoom the camera out to the international level and we see exclusion and atrocity marching hand-in-hand through history. Christians and Muslims. Jews and Nazis. Israel and Palestine. Blacks and whites. Serbs and Croats. Hutus and Tutsis. Christians and Muslims. The world is nothing more than a cosmic Junior High cafeteria where exclusion is the name of the deadly game.

And, living in a world like ours, survival sometimes feels like just getting better and better at hiding ourselves. Insulating ourselves from all condemnation and exclusion, so ready to pounce on our first misstep or evidence of imperfection. Because, in the deepest, darkest, most honest places of our souls – the places we don't talk about at dinner parties – we live in fear that, if other people saw us – I mean truly saw us – they would know we are lepers too. We're afraid of our own cleverly disguised missing digits, scarred faces and open wounds. Afraid of them because we are secretly afraid of ourselves. Afraid of our anger and our hatred. Afraid of that persistent temptation that we gave into again this week. Afraid of the despair and depression that reach out to suffocate us. Afraid that, if other people really knew us, we might be forced to walk through the streets, shouting "unclean!" "Unclean!"

And so, we are all here, on the edge of our pews wondering how Jesus felt toward this leper in Mark chapter 1. Wondering how Jesus feels toward lepers in general. Lepers like us.

Embrace in the Text

Looking into this leper's eyes, Jesus was. . .what? indignant? Jesus was filled with compassion? Jesus felt pity? Jesus was angry? Well, this is what he did: Jesus "reached out his hand and touched the man." Of all the countless ways that Jesus healed people according to the Gospel accounts! "He reached out his hand and touched the man." He drove demons out with his words. But, words, in this case, weren't enough. Jesus "reached out his hand and touched the man." And then he said, "I am willing. Be clean!" This, right here, is the scandal of the Gospel. The scandal of the Good News. The scandal of God's love at work in the world.

God became flesh and moved into the neighborhood. God refused to take the bypass around this world's brokenness and pain. God went straight to the heart of the matter. God reached out and touched the world. God reached out and touched the world, saying, "I am willing. Be clean!"

The God of the universe sees His world made up of societies built to bypass the lepers. Whole systems built to avoid, to leave out, shun and reject. The God of the universe sees His people, drowning in their own shame, guilt, condemnation and exclusion. God's compassionate heart breaks open and indignation pours out. After all, what is the Incarnation if not an compassionate statement of indignation? . .An indignant statement of compassion? . .Either way, watching us drown was no option for the God of the universe. That is why God, in Jesus Christ, stripped himself of all the privileges of heaven and dove straight into the mess.

Anyone who has ever consoled a child rejected by her playmates. Anyone who has ever wondered why their loved one has cancer. Anyone who has ever watched the evening news with their hands balled up into fists, knows that compassion without indignation – like faith without works – is dead. In the face of a world that decides for themselves who deserves to be cherished and who ought to be accepted, true and God-like compassion requires at least a pinch of indignation. Compassion without indignation is no compassion at all.

And so Jesus heals the-person-formerly-known-as-the-leper. Jesus sets this person free from stigma and exclusion. But the good news does not stop there. Oh, no the good news, the Gospel only begins there. "Go, show yourself to the priest and offer the sacrifices that Moses commanded for your cleansing, as a testimony to them." The news of God's love and God's grace is, miraculously not only for the excluded ones of the world. Knowing that they have need of God's help, the excluded and marginalized are often first in line. BUT God's love and God's grace, extends to all people. The hard truth is that God's love and God's grace are for victims and perpetrators alike. But, as God relishes doing, God often uses the weak to shame the strong. The foolish to shame the wise.

"Go," says Jesus. "The religious establishment kicked you out, held you at arm's length and made you doubt that I could love you. Go and show them. Show them that my love does not discriminate between society's versions of the deserving and the undeserving. Show them that, if they would only come to me, I am willing to embrace them too. I could heal the leprosy they are so eager to hide. I could cleanse the sin they are so careful to cover over in self-righteousness. I could love them too. . .I could love them too."

And the leper goes out. Interestingly, the text doesn't tell us whether he ever makes it to the Temple. We do know he got distracted along the way. But perhaps that is just evidence that Jesus' indignant compassion IS the good news. And there were so many people who needed to know. As Jesus' indignant compassion spread through the town, it compelled people to follow. Something about this Jesus, who would touch a leper, gave the people hope in a God who could love them, too.

Embrace in the World

Not many of us here this morning are lepers – at least not in the strictest sense of the word. But, I suspect, it didn't take long for some of you to find your place alongside this person with leprosy. You didn't need any help connecting the dots. You recognized yourself in his prayer: "LORD, if You are willing, You could. . . You could find me that job. You could fix my broken heart. You could make it so that school wasn't such a lonely place. LORD, if You are willing, You could. . .

For you, God reached out and touched the world. For you, God whispered, "I am willing. I could love you too." For you, God gave up everything else. God gave up everything else in order that He might never, NEVER have to give up on broken-down folks. THAT is the scandal of God's indignant compassion.

For others, need is buried yet under layers of pretense. Leprosy is still cleverly disguised by piety. By self-sufficiency (which is not a Christian virtue, by the way.) Cleverly disguised, in constant fear that, if other people saw us – I mean truly saw us – we might be forced to walk through the streets, shouting "unclean!" "Unclean!"

That fear that grips us, paralyzes us. It holds us back from tripping all over ourselves to come to Jesus. And so it is for folks like us that Jesus commanded the-man-formerly-known-as-the-leper: "Go and show them," Jesus said. "Show them that, if they would only come to me, I am willing to embrace them too. I could heal the leprosy they are so eager to hide. I could cleanse the sin they are so careful to cover over in self-righteousness. I could love them too. . .I could love them too."

Brothers and sisters in Christ, for us, God has reached out and touched the world. For us, God has whispered, "I am willing. I could love you too." For us, God gave up everything else. God gave up everything else in order that He might never, NEVER have to give up on broken-down folks – even cleverly-disguised-broken-down-folks -- like us. THAT is the scandal of God's indignant compassion.

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Prelude to a Sermon

2009-02-03T22:23:00.001-05:00

I preach this Sunday morning.
Mark 1:40-45
Jesus Heals the Man with Leprosy.

Encountering this text with the vestiges of my previous blog-post lingering on my soul has been a wonderful experience. Some weeks, finding the intersection of God's Word and God's people (a street corner called "The Gospel") can be a difficult task. This week, perhaps it is because my experience as a member and representative of God's people is so fresh, I landed here pretty quickly. So here are some of my (hopefully interesting) takes on the passage:

(Trouble in the Text)

V.41 says "Jesus was indignant." His compassion was offended by this leper's "If you are willing, you can make me clean." It is not doubt of Jesus' power but a doubt of his caring.
But, of course, given this leper's experience of the religious communities around him, it isn't exactly surprising that he would doubt Jesus' caring. The community has never cared for him.
They've built rules, regulations and beltways around him. Afraid to get too close. Afraid of contamination. Afraid that, by hanging out with such an obviously diseased individual, people might begin to see through to their own diseased interiors.

(Trouble in the World)

I am currently reading a youth adult fiction, The Book Thief, which tells the story of very real German people trying to survive in the prelude to and beginnings of WWII. You know, they aren't all the ravenous dogs and horrible bigots we make them out to be. Trapped by a system and group think bigger than themselves, they made decisions for self-preservation that resulted in horrible oppression and injustice. But, of course, we think WE would never do that. WE would stand up and fight. WE would all be Dietrich Bonhoeffer.
And yet, the habits of our daily lives betray us. None of us have grown out of the middle-school cafeteria mindset. "Don't sit with the losers!" Or "That's the geek's table." We ALL distance ourselves from those who manifest disease, unpopularity, etc. Because we are secretly afraid that, hanging out with them will allow other people to see our own diseased interiors.
We build beltlines around those people – we give them a nice, wide berth – because, the truth is, most of us have built the same kind of walls and barriers around our own leprosy. Our own diseased, hurting, sorrowing, angry and rejected places.
We occupy ourselves with keeping the law, keeping all righteousness and keeping busy in order NOT to address our own leprosy. And, if we are unable to "go there," as it were, it makes perfect sense that we wouldn't want Jesus to be there either. "If you are willing (and you probably aren't) you could make me clean."

(Grace in the Text)

But Jesus "reached out his hand and touched the man." Jesus went straight to the heart of this man's pain, his disgrace, etc.
Jesus made himself unclean, despised, rejected in order to make this man clean, honorable and accepted.
AND THEN Jesus sends him to tell the religious establishment. "As a testimony to them." As a testimony to the fact that he can heal them as well.

(Grace in the World)
This is what I've got so far. I like to wait for it all to gel before I commit myself to a final declaration of how the grace in this text melds together with the trouble in our world to produce a particular word of grace for my people. Thoughts would be appreciated but mostly I'm excited to see how the Holy Spirit shows up on Thursday morning to guide my fingers along this keyboard!

The pastor they want is not necessarily the pastor they need

2009-02-01T20:10:00.002-05:00

*** Disclaimer: the "they" in this post is not exactly or only my experience in my congregation but, I think, is pretty typical to pastors and churches everywhere. (Can I get a witness?) ***

The definition of pastor has shifted over the years. In my tradition, the pastor used to be the Domini -- a spiritual shepherd, with authority that comes along with being well and appropriately educated for their task. Well versed in theology and, if you were at all lucky, some of the humanities (literature, art, history, philosophy).
More recently (say, in the past 30 years), small, faithful CRC congregations have become fascinated by the boom of church growth methodologies and, let's be honest, not a little jealous of the success of non-denominational, evangelical mega-churches.

What that means for the contemporary pastor is a whole heck of a lot of confusion. The spiritual shepherd expectation is in the DNA of the denomination and yet our churches ALSO want their pastors to be innovative and to do big things and to attract more people with better programming. And so pastors get trapped in this tension between being a spiritual shepherd and a businessman or woman. Some pastors love leadership models and vision-casting and exciting programming. Kudos to them. But, make no mistake, it IS a "them," not an "us."

As I have become increasingly fond of saying: "I am not Julie and this church is not the Love Boat!" I am not a cruise director/event planner/activities co-ordinator. I did not go to school for an MBA.

What if all I want, all I desperately long for, in this world is to be a faithful minister of God's Word to the people in God's Church? And I know there will always be programs and budgets and committees. What was it Jesus said? "these you will always have with you?" ;-)

But, here's the deal: its not just that I am a petulant child being asked to eat her brussel sprouts (although, I don't deny that metaphor altogether.) It's not just that I feel like a failure when I am asked to live out of a skill set and identity that are not mine. It isn't even that I am exhausted (although I am writing this on a Sunday night and all you preachers out there know what that means. . .)

The problem is that I secretly believe that all of the programming, events, and doing of our lives (even our corporate church lives) are ways of avoiding the depth of our human souls. The deepest places of our emptiness and brokenness. Listen, I get fear and avoidance. It is where I default to living most of the time because I know that what Jesus is doing in my heart is some seriously freaky $#!+. I want to run from it most of the time. And when I run away from the painful realities, where God is at work in my soul, I run straight into the seductive arms of doing. Doing more. Doing things. All things for all people. Activities. Superficial chatter and escapist laughter. Or writing blog posts. Because, when I am doing, I can know that I am doing it right, based upon the outcome of my work. And when I am living my life hidden with Christ in God, I am left only to trust in an undeserved Divine love and favor. Like I said, some seriously freaky $#!+.

And that causes me to wonder: do people ask their pastors for more programs because that is really what may cause them to grow closer to God and, in so doing, enter with God into their own broken realities? Or, by enabling more and more and more programming are pastors just fascilitating another way of allowing people to hide from themselves. Is it another way to keep us all too busy to realize the truth of our own lives? As pastors are we succombing to the temptation to validate the success of our ministry, reinforce the necessity of our presence, based on tangible outcomes like programming and numbers and innovation?

But what of faithfulness? What of modelling a life that delights in the presence of God and encourages others to do the same? What of actually PRAYING for members of the congregation? What of delighting in the Word of God? What of standing witness to the truth God is carving out in people's lives? What of spiritual shepherding?

Is spiritual growth (think the riches of the knowledge and wisdom of God) only intended to be a hobby for pastors, while church growth (think numbers and buildings and programs) is intended to be their primary occupation? Shall I pray or answer e-mail? Do I read God's Word or attend to the mound of papers collected on my desk? Will I speak to you about your deepest unmet desires and fears or should I just ask you to serve on yet another committee? I am only one person with the same 24-hour days as anyone else. Assuming that I can do all of the above is unrealistic. And you will know (and disapprove?) if I stop doing the latter but if I never get around to doing the formers, will anyone really notice? Does anyone really care?

I am becoming resigned to the fact (oh how quickly the youthful blush of idealism fades!) that I will be living with this tension for the rest of my life in ministry. It is a tension inherent to such a life. Thankfully, I have found some company on the journey. Craig Barnes latest publication speaks to the very core, the kindred souls of pastors. As a pastor and teacher of pastors, he writes this:

There is no shortage of formulas for creating a successfully constructed pastorate being peddled in the professional religious market today. All of these formulas are based on the assumption that pastors need to meet the expectations of those who are already in the church and especially of those who are not there yet. That only contributes to the interal tension that is tearing apart the souls of reflective pastors, who remember holier purposes to the calling to ministry. Sure, they want to be successful. But it doesn't matter how many new worship services they start, or how many seekers they attract, or how praised they are by either the old guard or the new members, there souls will never settle for success at the cost of their souls.
So in class we spend a lot of time forging our way back to clarity on who we are and whose we are. No one can possibly know what to do without this tether, least of all pastors who daily confront a legion of alternative and very tempting identities from which to work. But when we begin with our own identity in Christ and the pastoral call to assist others in becoming fully alive in him, we are freed from the drudgery of being managers and service providers to pursue something much more creative -- being poets of the soul.
A good poet is hard to find, and nothing is more tragic than wasting one in a busy office.

The pastor they want is not necessarily the pastor they need.

I am somewhat consoled -- but, shame-facedly, only somewhat -- by the fact that Jesus' ministry was characterized by a similar tension. He came to bring in the Kingdom but, while he was teaching, and healing, and praying and loving that Kingdom into existence, the disciples missed it. The Pharisees resented it. And the Roman authority misunderstood it. Jesus' Kingdom simply did not have the force, the flash, the flair of a marketable mega-Kingdom. For the healing of our wounds, the binding together of our brokenness, the redemption of our souls from condemnation, Jesus was wounded, broken and condemned. He is a poet, writing the sonnet of souls past, souls future and even, thanks be to God, souls like yours and mine.

The Messiah we want is not necessarily the Messiah we need.

Considering Calvin, Part I

2009-01-05T22:00:00.002-05:00

Since my self-assigned task of this year is to read through the Institutes, I thought I should also introduce a probably-not-regular feature to this blog -- some reflection upon my reading. Hopefully others of you who have self-assigned yourself similarly may engage in this dialogue and, for others, who are far too wise to do as I do, that this may, at least, pique your curiosity.

3 Thoughts from Calvin's Prefatory Address to King Francis, part VI

1) "Surely the church of Christ has lived and will live so long as Christ reigns at the right hand of his Father. It is sustained by his hand; defended by his protection; and is kept safe through his power." I am fairly certain that nothing drives me as ba-zonkers as the fatalistic rhetoric used to propagandize certain segments of Christianity. "The church is dying." "If we don't pass the marriage amendment act in our state, the church will be persecuted and marginalized into non-existence." "If we don't change our worship style/church name/key demographic/_________ our church will be obsolete in 10 years." You get the picture? The maddening piece in all of this is the missing piece, which is Christ Himself, the Head of the Church. All of this nihilistic thinking (Friedrich Nietzsche Goes to Church), forgets that God has a vested interest in the work of the church.

But, maybe, Christ's church doesn't have to look the way we think they should. In fact, this is Calvin's central argument -- for too long, during his day, the Roman Catholic Church had held a my-way-or-the-highway approach to the Church, so that, without the visible church (THEIR visible church, mind you), we could never know or say for certain that there was a Body of Christ alive and vibrant on the earth. Thus, Calvin points out:

2) "And we must not doubt that Christ has reigned on earth ever since he ascended into heaven. But if believers had then required some visible form, would they not have straightway lost courage?" Here's what I like about these two sentences -- they remind us that followers of Jesus Christ in the 1st generation after His ascension did not have the church in the format we have come to expect/demand today. In fact, the church in the early days took many generations (one might argue until Augustine of Hippo in the 4th century) to sort out the who-zits and what-zits of their worship. But, regardless of their fumbling and bumbling, regardless of their missteps and false starts, God remained faithful, as did Christ's reign over the church and over the Kingdom (one-in-the-same? discuss.)

3) Finally, this nugget from Calvin that will (should?) be well-known to reformed theologians, seminarians and pastors the world over: "We, on the contrary, affirm that the church can exist without any visible appearance, and that its appearance is not contained within that outward magnificence which they (the Roman Catholic Church) foolishly admire. Rather, it has quite another mark: namely, the pure preaching of God's Word and the lawful administration of the sacraments." Now, here is what has left me wondering. . .

What constitutes the pure preaching of God's Word and the lawful administration of the sacraments? Obviously, in Calvin's day the villain was the Roman Catholic Church's practice of keeping lay people from reading Scripture or hearing Scripture read in their own language as well as the strange, incantational practice of the sacraments, which relied more upon obscurity and the privilege of the priest than upon God's desire that each one of us live into the mystery of faith -- Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.

But, today, in what ways is the church more likely to soil the preaching of God's Word or illegitimately administer the sacraments? Is there a cautionary note here, not only for the medieval Roman Catholic Church of the 16th century, but also for the Western evangelical Protestant Church of the 21st century? (hint: I think that the answer is yes.) (hint, hint: I don't want to show my hand until I hear from others.)

A Vast Christmas Conspiracy

2008-12-27T20:19:00.001-05:00

Text: John 1:1-14

Theme: We remember, celebrate and build our lives upon the fact that at one time, the light of the world, Jesus Christ, came into the darkness and His light continues to overcome our darkness.

Doctrine: Incarnation, Kingdom, Hope

Mission: To participate in the light, which is taking over the world!

Introduction

A dear friend of mine is a first-term missionary intern with Christian Reformed World Relief Committee in Niger, West Africa. She just spent her first Christmas away from family in Michigan and Ohio. She worried that the Christmas spirit would never be able to reach her in a land without snow or family or the traditional holiday meals and rituals. Instead, this is what she wrote.

Trouble in the World

What does it mean for us to say "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas"? When we visualize Christmas, do we see "candy canes and silver lanes aglow. . .but the prettiest sight to see is the holly that will be on your own front door." What does Christmas look like to you? Is it about a good layer of snow on the ground? Lights and decorations or stockings hung by the chimney with care? That we are surrounded by family and friends with the delicious smell of some sacrificial animal roasting away in our ovens? It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

But it isn't just that we are superficial, "White Christmas"-loving people. In fact, I don't mean to say that is what we are at all. It's just that we are so very far removed from the culture and history and situation surrounding the birth of Jesus Christ, more than 2000 years ago. When we think of Christmas trees, we imagine pines not palms. When we think of Christmas weather, we think of snow not high humidity. After all, how many of us pass up donkey carts on our morning commute? If one of us were to see a goat chowing down in the grass next of us, wouldn't we be startled rather than nonchalant? What about camels? I reckon we don't picture a group of them tethered in our front yard when we say "it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas." Such things are foreign to us and can require careful translation work.

Last week, we thought together about the Incarnation – about God's intention to translate himself. To be understood by human hearts and minds, God took on a human heart and mind, encased in a very human body. God desperately desires to be understood by us. But, the fact is that, more often than not, God still remains quite a mystery. Can you imagine the disappointment of being God in human form and still finding yourself misunderstood by your own beloved people?

Trouble in the Text

Look again with me at the Gospel according to John. The tension begins as far up in the text as verse 5. I love the translation that many of us have in our Bibles: "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." So often it seems that darkness is only a nanosecond away from overcoming any light in our own souls or the souls of those we care for. The reality of darkness is palpable at times. We don't often talk in these terms. They hardly seem civilized and rational. But, as anyone who has struggled against mental illness or grief or addiction will tell you, darkness is real. But God has promised that the light is more real than the darkness. So sometimes this prayer feels more like a challenge – as if grabbing God by the lapels and then daring God to make good on this promise. "The darkness will not overcome the light, God. You promised."

Back to John 1, verses 9-11: "The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world. He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. He came to that which was his own but his own did not receive him." Here, in poetic form, is a re-telling of the story of Jesus' non-triumphant entry into his hometown. The place where he had skinned his knees as a child, had gone to school, learned a trade. He returns to his own in Nazareth and they would have nothing to do with him. "Hey, isn't this Joseph the carpenter's kid?" Now zoom the lens of this camera out and realize that this is not only the story of Jesus in his hometown of Nazareth. This is the overarching narrative of Jesus in his home-world of Planet Earth. "He came to his own but his own did not receive him."

Need more proof of this, turn with me to John 6:60, as Jesus explains that he is the bread of life, that all will one day be welcome to eat and drink of his very presence, the disciples exclaim, "This is a hard teaching. Who can accept it?" In the next chapter the crowds look at each other puzzled, "What does he mean. . . ?" In frustration, Jesus confronts those who cannot comprehend him. Chapter 8, verses 37 and 43. "You are looking for a way to kill me because you have no room for my word" and "Why is my language not clear to you? Because you are unable to hear what I say?" Over and over again in the gospel of John, we learn that Jesus Christ came to translate himself. Jesus came to his own. He spoke with them but they did not receive his words.

"John's Gospel isn't about Jesus speaking the truth and everyone saying 'Of course! Why didn't we realize it before?' It is about God shining his clear, bright torch into the darkness of our world, our lives, our hearts, our imaginations – and the darkness not comprehending it. It's about God, God as a little child, speaking words of truth, and nobody knowing what he's talking about."

The trouble presented to us in John's Gospel is the flip-side of it's good news. "The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth." And, what then? We saw God's glory and preferred our own mediocrity. We saw God's grace and we responded with the violence of a cross. We saw God's truth and we told our own lies. We preferred our darkness to God's light.

The early church was fascinated with the language of light and darkness. It is no coincidence that the Gospel of John, the last of the Gospels to be written, is filled up with this language. And it is also no co-incidence that we celebrate Christ's birth in a way that highlights this light in the darkness.

Grace in the (sort-of) Text

Have you ever wondered why we celebrate Jesus' birthday on December 25^th? I promised you a conspiracy – a vast, Christmas conspiracy -- and here it is. Jesus Christ was not born on December 25. Well, at least we have no proof that Jesus Christ was born on December 25. He was not issued a birth certificate, for one. For two, even if there had been some document with the baby Messiah's footprints on it, it's not as though it would have been archived as anything particularly special. Babies were born all the time. This baby, while extraordinary to us, would have just been one more piece of paper for the notary to stamp and pass back to the parents, all of whom imagined that theirs was the most special, most precious child EVER. Finally, for three and for good measure, the month of "December" hadn't been invented yet.

So, Jesus Christ was probably not born on December 25. In fact, the weight of the evidence would point away from a December birthdate. In the Middle East, shepherds only keep an outdoor watch over their sheep during the warmer months, maybe March through November. During the cold, wet months, the shepherds wisely kept themselves and their flocks indoors overnight, when the desert is likely to drop to its most frigid temperatures.

Now, if you haven't wondered before, aren't you the least bit curious now? Why do we celebrate Jesus' birthday on December 25^th? (I know this seems like a detour – and a nerdy one at that – but I promise that if you stick with me, we are going to make sense of this. And I also promise that this is going somewhere that matters, this is something that can be applied in your lives. So, hold me to that AND hold on for the ride.)

The early church thought long and hard about the practice of celebrating Christ's birth. The first recorded celebration of Christmas was in 335 AD in Rome. And it was celebrated on December 25^th. In the fourth century, the Romans had already set aside December 25^th as a holiday – dies natalis solis invicti -- the day of the birth of the unconquered sun. Worship of a sun-god was everywhere at the time. With the winter solstice only a few days prior, everyone was focusing on the return of the sun. I guess the early Christians just figured, "If you can't beat them, join them."

Well, wait, that's not quite right, is it? Like the Apostle Paul addressing the devout, worshipping crowds in Athens, the early church discerned the kernel of truth out of the pagan practices of the day and reformulated them in order to point to Christ. "People of Athens! I see that in every way you are very religious. . .I even found an altar with this inscription: to an unknown god. So you are ignorant of the very thing you worship – and this is what I am going to proclaim to you." (Acts 17:22-23)

"Very well," said the early church's leaders. "You want to worship an unconquered son? Have we got a festival for you!"

Bishop Ambrose of Milan preached this about the beginning of Christmas celebration in the early church: "Well do Christian people call this a holy day, on which our LORD was born, the day of the new sun; and they assert it so insistently that even Jews and pagans agree with them in using that name for it. We are happy to accept and maintain this view, because with the day spring of the Savior, no only is the salvation of(hu)mankind renewed, but also the splendor of the sun."

John Crysostom, the Golden-tongued preacher wrote: "They call it the 'Birthday of the Unconquered.' Who indeed is so unconquered as Our LORD?"

One of their contemporaries also reminds us that "We hold this day holy, not like the pagans because of the birth of the sun, but because of him who made it."

In this Day of Birth of the Unconquered Son, perhaps the early church leaders were reminded of a small snatch of Old Testament Scripture. In the book of Malachi, it is written: "'But for you who revere my name, the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its rays. And you will go out and frolic like well-fed calves. Then you will trample on the wicked; they will be ashes under the soles of your feet on the day when I act,' says the LORD Almighty." (Malachi 4:2-3)

"You want to worship an unconquered son? Have we got a Son – of God and Son of Man – for you!"

Grace in the World

Now, I promised you a practical application, didn't I? Maybe you've already beat me to the punch but, if not, let's think about this a minute. The early church fathers did not have the benefit of a Reformed education. It was still almost 1500 years later that Abraham Kuyper, that wonderful theologian and statesman in the Netherlands caused such a stir with his ideas about God being able to use every square inch of this world – any scrap of culture, any spiritual longing – to point people toward their Savior, Jesus Christ. They hadn't taken a class in cultural discernment. They had never been to a Festival of Faith and Writing or Music. There was no such thing as the January series for them.

But they knew Scripture. They knew the Gospel of John. They knew that, in and through Jesus Christ, the light shines into the darkness. They knew that people are built with a need for worship, with a passion for transcendence – for something beyond themselves. They knew that God was calling them to be a part of the light in the darkness. And so they took a non-Christian holiday and said, "So you are ignorant of the very thing you worship – and this is what I am going to proclaim to you." (Acts 17:22-23) And they celebrated Christmas – the Mass (Lord's Supper) of Christ -- in hopes that doing so would shine a little more light into the darkness.

The fact that we still celebrate the birthday of our Savior Jesus Christ, almost 2000 years after the fact, tells us that light has reached into the darkness. The light that dawned over the manger of the Christ-child, grew through his life, it was extinguished only for a moment in his death, and it blazed forth with new life at his resurrection. And the light of Christ, was given "to all who receive him, to those who believed in his name." And we are "born of God." (John 1:12-13)

And that light was not snuffed out in the early days when persecution was the church's reality. The light continued to edge forward through history. Through people like Augustine of Hippo, and Francis of Assissi. Through Martin Luther, John Calvin, Abraham Kuyper. Through missionaries and preachers and simple folks who loved God's Word and sacrificed for the cause of Christ's light, creeping up the horizon with its streaky pinks and blues, overcoming darkness. Rising earlier and earlier each morning, the Son – of God and of Man – proves that he is, indeed, invincible.

In fact, all of us who are challenged by, loved in, forgiven through his light, are indeed followers of the Invincible Son. Connected, as we are, with the church at all times and in all places, we share Christ, the light of our lives and the light of the world with those around us. We are followers of the Invincible Son on the corner of Broadway and Winchell in Kalamazoo, Michigan. We are followers of the Invincible Son on this first Sunday in Christmastide, in the year of our LORD 2008. The words of Gregory of Nazianzus are just as true today as they were 1600 years ago:

"Therefore, let us keep the Feast. Not after the manner of a heathen festival, but after a godly sort; not after the way of the world, but in a fashion above the world; not as our own, but as belonging to Him who is ours. . .not as of weakness, but as of healing; not as of creation but of re-creation."

In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

Pondering the Preach. . .

2008-12-23T18:08:00.002-05:00

Well, it's Tuesday so I'm back at it. I had high hopes this morning of making the 45 minute drive north to use the plethora of resources available to me at my seminary library. 20 white-knuckled minutes on the highway north and 40 back again left me with no doubt that the trip would have been fool-hardy. Disappointing in many respects because, along with high-study-hopes, I had also had high-hopes of hanging with some of my sweet (non-mallow) peeps!

This Sunday, I am primarily using the prologue of John 1 -- "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it."

I am getting a little bit theological and nerdy and delving into the early church's decision to celebrate the festival of Christ's birth on the 25th of December. It is an interesting story but, more than that it moves us all into seeing ourselves as:

1) Festival and feasting people. People who find it crucial to remember who we are and what better way to do that than with a P-A-R-T-Y? Heeeeeey!

2) Participating in the on-going, on-coming light reaching into the darkness.

For more on these and other fascinating topics, look here, or here, here and here.

Also, the very first recorded Christmas sermon is available on-line. Its a short read and delightful!

In other, unrelated news -- I am enjoying some seriously merry and festive tune-age! A Very Rosie Christmas to you all!!!

Catch-22

2008-12-22T18:23:00.002-05:00

So, here's the thing. . .

During Advent this year, I worked on memorizing Isaiah 40. It is 31 verses long and I only managed a command of verses 1-11 + 28-31, so about 1/2 the chapter. I found this to be an enjoyable Advent discipline and I was hoping for an opportunity to share this with the congregation. I have met preachers who memorize large chunks of Scripture and they recite them interpretively and I have always enjoyed and found such things meaningful.

As a conclusion to my sermon yesterday I was able to tie this Scripture proclamation in and it worked well for what I was hoping it would accomplish, however:

1) I worry that such a practice turns into a talent show.
2) People comments seem to reflect that they are impressed with me. Is this a lay-persons attempt at saying that such a thing was spiritually meaningful or were they, in fact, only impressed with me?
3) I was called a show-offy kid which makes me extra sensitive to this accusation plus
4) I have an overabundance of Fundamentalist guilt that chimes in to remind me that, even when I go ahead with things in good faith, my motives are never perfectly pure therefore every action requires a thorough purging of . . . what? Well, something.

So, any thoughts out there? Have you tried this in your own pulpit and encountered a similar response? How do you negotiate this tricky territory? I really enjoyed this practice for myself and believe it to be beneficial in the abstract. Just trying to figure out where to go from here. . .

In other news, I am trying to figure out how to upload audio files to my blog so that I can keep a record of my sermons on here for all interested parties. This is a significantly techie job for lil' ol' me, though.

Pondering the Preach. . .

2008-12-16T20:45:00.002-05:00

It is my first Advent season, leading up to my first Christmas. I am preaching on both the 4th Sunday in Advent AND the 1st Sunday of Christmas, while co-pastor is developing what I think will prove to be an absolutely beautific Christmas Eve service.

This Advent, we are preaching the epistle texts from the lectionary. This has proven to have a high degree of difficulty involved because a) most folks like the classic Gospel narratives or the sweeping Isaiah prophecies b) the texts are almost all from the opening and closing of various letters. So we are preaching blessings and benedictions and c) because they are all blessings and benedictions, they are all remarkably alike.

This Sunday's primary text is: Romans 16:25-27

In my initial fly-by the text, I was struck by the "revealed mysteries" idea, which is, indeed, thick in the text. Almost all of the verbs center on mystery, revelation, coming to know, etc.

And what is the mystery that has been revealed? The Gospel of Paul, The preaching of Jesus Christ, Salvation. . .call it what you will.

BUT WHAT DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH ADVENT? I cried out. What is the tie-in with the Christmas story as folks are expecting to hear it? Mystery revealed. . .

And I thought of a scared, pregnant teenager marveling over her expanding belly. Of feeling that butterfly sensation of her child's swooshing in amniotic fluid. Of the bump growing visibly under the flowing shape of her dress. Of the anxiety for all that could go wrong and the worry over the developing child she has yet to meet. Of birth pains and pushing and mystery revealed.

I looked up the word incarnate in the dictionary: a: invested with bodily and especially human nature and form b: made manifest or comprehensible.

Here's my working thesis statement (if it is possible to think of sermons having "thesis statements"): In Jesus' birth, we are told that God desires to make Godself manifest or comprehensible to the world.

Follow-up thought #1: How is mystery revealed/how is God made manifest/comprehensible to you in this Christmas season? N.T. Wright speaks of the "thin places" in this world, wherein the next world is almost tangible. Very nearly here and now.

Follow-up thought #2: As our church continues our ministry focus, The Year of the Neighbor, might it be appropriate to ask: how is mystery revealed/how is God made manifest/comprehensible through us to others? In the Septuigent, this Greek word for mystery is used in rapid-fire succession in Daniel 2 -- the story of Daniel comprehending the mysteries of Nebecednezzer's dream. The mystery is, indeed, intended for all the nations of the earth.

"And the glory of the LORD shall be revealed and all people shall see it together, for the mouth of the LORD has spoken it."

Okay, now, as of 10pm Tuesday, this is the thought I have been given. I put it here not to demonstrate how far ahead I am in sermon preparation (although, aren't you proud of me?) I put it here in the hopes that someone may wander by and feel inclined to add their own thoughts to mine so that, by Friday, when it comes time to writing this thing, I will have more than my own thoughts to work with. PLEASE add your thoughts.

Confessions of a God-Nerd

2008-12-16T12:01:00.002-05:00

So, 2009 is the 500th anniversary of a John Calvin's birth (not quite as glorious as the birth we are currently celebrating in this Advent/Christmas season. . .but important nonetheless.)

In recognition of this momentous event, Princeton Theological Seminary has issued this invitation to all interested pastors, lay people, theologians and all-around God-nerds:

READ CALVIN'S INSTITUTES FROM COVER-TO-COVER IN A YEAR!!!

Excited? I KNOW! Me too!!! The plan includes readings of about 3-6 pages everyday (except Sundays and Christmas). There will also be audio versions or podcasts available. And then each week, a scholar or pastor will provide a reflection paper, we are all invited to comment and discuss. . .hilarity ensues.

Please, for yourself, for the Reformed tradition, avail yourself of this resource!

Talk Amongst Yourselves. . .I'll Give You A Topic

2008-12-08T18:52:00.002-05:00

Time to Arise
(by Nelson Mandela)

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It's our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves: who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.

We are born to manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. As we let our light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

"Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the LORD rises upon you. See, darkness covers the earth and thick darkness is over the peoples, but the LORD rises upon you and his glory appears over you. Nations will come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn." Isaiah 60:1-3

Advent Retreat

2008-12-01T12:04:00.002-05:00

RevGalBlogPals has set up a unique on-line Advent Retreat. With snow piled up on the pines outside my window and a warm kitten curled up nearby, I can't think of anything better than this. . .it is time for thought, reflection and prayer.

Comfort, comfort my people, says Your God.
Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and proclaim to her that her hard service has been completed, that her sin has been paid for, that she has received from the LORD's hand double for all her sins.
A voice of one calling:
"In the wilderness prepare the way for the LORD; make straight in the desert, a highway for our God.
Every valley shall be raised up, every mountain and hill made low; the rough ground shall become level, the rugged places a plain.
And the glory of the LORD will be revealed; and the people will see it together, for the mouth of the LORD has spoken." Isaiah 40:1-5

First of all, I am loving Isaiah this Advent. "Comfort, comfort my people," is what I so frequently find myself proclaiming from the pulpit or with hands clasped at a hospital bedside or in the silence of my own prayer for others. What a delight to let this words come to roost, to wiggle around and make themselves at home in my heart. Comfort, comfort my daughter, Meg.

Second, I am struck by the terrain described above. The places where God comes are to the wilderness, the deserts, the rough ground and the rugged places. The very places in my soul that I am keen to keep God away from are the very places where the revelation of his glory will be made abundantly manifest. "Open your deserts and rough places to the coming glory of our LORD."

Third, I was delighted by the image that surfaced from this text. An image of the Going-to-the-Sun Road in Glacier National Park. It took copious and laborious work to carve a highway on the sides of sheer mountain face or tunnel through dense mountain rock. At the cost of $2.5 million over 10 years from the 1920s through the 1930s, this road is now considered a National Civil Engineering Landmark. But, more important than the investment in its creation is the splendor it now reveals to any who tour upon it. I am reminded of the great day I spent tooling through Glacier. In that most tangible, most earth-bound moment, I caught a glimpse of "the glory of the LORD shall be revealed." And that glimpse leaves me hungry for more.

Maranatha, Come LORD Jesus!

Golden Birthday

2008-11-30T22:10:00.002-05:00

I was going to call this post "Reflections on Turning 30" but, my goodness! That's quite a bit more expectation than I can honestly fulfill.

I am still learning how to be a pastor and a blogger at the same time, without going underground or outing my peeps. By "still learning" I mean I'm not blogging -- not really news to any of you, I know.

But today is as good a reason as any to come out of hibernation and put fingertips to keyboard. Today, November 30, 2008 I turned 30-years-old. A Golden Birthday and I think it is fair to also say this: the best birthday of my life thus far. This morning I was able to lead in the worship service, complete with ordained blessing and benediction. And I was able to present the ministry of the Word. In the evening, I was back at church for a Taize service. In between I spent time with some friends, received bundles of facebook salutations and even got a game of Settlers in!

But here's why I'm calling this my best birthday to date -- because in the celebration surrounding my 30th birthday, the whole of my previous decade was affirmed. When I turned 20, I had no idea that this was where I would be and who I would be and what I would be doing when I turned 30. My plans for myself were fuzzy and much smaller than what God had in mind for me. So I vagabonded my way through my 20's. I traveled, tried a little of this and a little of that. I fell hard a couple of times. I loved as best I could. I learned to converse with God in both angry and peaceful tones. And I read. . .and read. . .and read. I studied and I also learned how to play. How to laugh. How to be myself and discover that self well-loved in the world. I began to hear the faint promptings of God and the deafening roar of God's people and I followed, albeit cautiously and full of self-doubt. But I lived a good decade. Not an easy decade. But a good one. And, "by the grace of God, I am what I am. And his grace to me was not without effect. I worked harder than anyone, yet not I but the grace of God that was in me."

Ireneus wrote, in the 3rd century, "the glory of God is the human person fully alive." This morning as I blessed my people. As I opened God's Word and as I sent us out into God's World with God's blessing, I knew deep at the center of myself what it means to be fully alive.

There is nothing more to be said than this: "Thanks be to God."

The Final Word

2008-10-10T21:01:00.001-04:00

(A meditation given this morning at Safe Haven Ministries Service of Remembrance and Hope: Honoring Victims and Survivors of Domestic Violence.)

Text: Lamentations 3:21-26, I Corinthians 1:18-2:5; 15:54-58

Theme: The Cross took on the violence of the world and denied it the final word.

Doctrine: The Cross, Resurrection

Image: "But why did Jesus have to die?"

Need: To celebrate the power of survivors, who, in their relationships, their churches

and the World, deny violence the final word.

Mission: To encourage individuals and churches to deny violence the final word.

Trouble in the World

I used to teach 3 and 4-year-old Sunday School. One morning I'll never forget, we talked about Jesus and how he died on the Cross so that we could be forgiven and made right with God. One little girl inched over to where I was standing and tugged on my hand. I looked down into her earnest, fresh face, sprouting pigtails over each ear. Looking up at me, with distress in her eyes, she asked, "But why did Jesus have to die?" I was in seminary at the time so, of course, I thought of half a dozen 3-syllable words, a few ancient theologians and even a couple of Latin phrases. But looking down into her face, I didn't know what to say.

Instead, what I discovered was a 4-year-old-girl-with-pigtails in my own heart, who was also very concerned about the fairness of it all. Jesus Christ was good and kind and loving and, so the Christian story tells us, perfectly innocent. And yet he was victimized, abused and killed. Why would God expect or require or be glorified by such violence? Put the question that way, and simple answers for 3-and-4-year-old Sunday School must be replaced, at least for a time, with profound silence.

As one seminary professor put it: "Violence has a way of making a mockery of words. After Auschwitz, Hiroshima, Vietnam, Cambodia, Rwanda, all words sound hollow. . .The proclamation of God's justice or God's love meets a wall of resistance, first in the throat of the proclaimer, then in the ears of the hearer."

In the context of a healing service, I believe that the wall of resistance, in proclaimer and hearer alike, is pretty high. I imagine that, seated in these pews, there are women who have made desperate phone-calls in the middle of the night – too afraid and too exhausted to speak but desperate for a voice of kindness. There are family members – brothers, fathers, mothers, aunts, uncles and grandparents who have held onto the other end of that phone, like a life-line, not knowing what to say. There are pastors, clergy-people, who feel powerless and confused to discover the emotional havoc hovering just below the surface in their most stalwart and trusted elder's marriage.

The violence we have experienced as survivors can cause us to be wary of easy answers. The violence we have experienced as friends, family, church-workers and care-providers to victims and perpetrators can, if we are honest, leave us, at times, cynical and a bit jaded. Even so, we are here this morning, because we believe that there is something yet to be said about God's love and God's justice. And I believe that "something yet to be said" has to be an answer to the question: Why did Jesus have to die?

Trouble in the Text

At the beginning of the second chapter of his first letter to the Corinthians, we discover good company in the Apostle Paul. It's not often that modern Christians with a heart that breaks for the abuse and mistreatment of women claim good company with the Apostle Paul, but here it is:

"When I came to you, brothers and sisters, I did not come with eloquence or superior wisdom as I proclaimed to you the testimony about God. For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. I came to you in weakness and fear, and with much trembling." Paul presented his message to the Corinthians with quivering voice, knocking knees and a troubling dis-ease in his stomache and yet, he determined, he "resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified."

Now, for many, the Cross is a symbol of great comfort and peace and belonging. But, at the same time, the Cross can be a very difficult reality. At the Cross, it seems that violence had the last word. At the Cross, a victim of violence did not fight back. At the Cross, a victim of violence passively took on the whole weight of this world's aggression, cruelty and arrogance. At the Cross, it seems that violence had the last word. As avowed Christians and passionate advocates for those affected by domestic violence, what do we do with the Cross? We still need to know, why did Jesus have to die?

Grace in the Text

There is something about the Cross, says Paul, that turns the powers of this world on their heads. While the Roman Empire and the religious establishment were busy hunting up the next great demonstration of their power, their authority, their muscle in the world, Jesus hung on a Cross, outside the city center. "But God chose the foolish things of this world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things – and the things that are not – to nullify the things that are." Jesus was "the place where God's future arrived in the present, with the kingdom of God celebrating its triumph over the kingdoms of the world by refusing to join in their spiral of violence."

There is something about the Cross that turns the powers of this world on their heads, not because the Cross plays a better game, by which I mean to say is bigger and meaner and more aggressive according to the rules set those by in authority, but by denying those rules altogether.

Believing that the Cross turns the powers of this world on their heads, we have to look to the Cross to hold the powers of this world accountable. Looking at Christ's death on the cross, we can never believe that God is oblivious to sin and passive toward suffering. When Christ suffered on the Cross, he represented all those who also suffer unjustly. Christ reveals that God is compassionate and present to those who suffer and, perhaps most importantly, Christ uncovers the sin of those who would be violent and would abuse others. Christ makes known to the world, through the Cross, that the unjust suffering of the vulnerable and powerless is a wound felt deeply in the very person, soul and center of God's own heart. By understanding that Jesus death on the Cross confronts and condemns sin, we are no longer allowed to make light of it. We cannot sweep it under the rug or make excuses for it. On the Cross, Jesus Christ confronted the powers of sin, violence and corruption in the world around him. By turning the powers of this world on their heads, Christ has given us the right to condemn the very same powers of sin, violence and corruption in our own world.

And, not simply the right to do so but the very power that is necessary. Because the violence of those who put Jesus Christ to death on the Cross is not the final word. Paul begins with the Cross, which holds the whole world accountable for their violence and sin. But, you want to see the Savior of the World really messing with this world's assumptions about power? Try this one on for size, just 14 chapters later: "For what I received, I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that he was buried and that he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures. . .And if Christ has not been raised from the dead, your faith is futile. . .But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead."

So, you see, Jesus had to die to demonstrate to the world that violence is not the last word. Oh, yes, certainly there is power in violence. We here know that all-to-well. But it is not the power of God and it is not the last word.

Hope is the final word, "yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope."

Death is not the final word but life. "Because of the LORD's great love, we are not consumed."

In the Christian story, even the Cross is not the final word. Resurrection and restoration are the final words. "God's compassions never fail. They are new every morning. Great is Your faithfulness of God."

Turning the powers of this world on their heads, Jesus Christ enables us to proclaim: "death has been swallowed up in victory. 'where, o death, is your victory? Where, o death, is your sting?' the sting of death is sin and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ."

Grace in the World

But, you see, dying and rising are not only the activities of Christ's sojourn on earth. And dying and rising are not simply about the end of our lives. Dying and rising are rhythms that are central to the Christian story. Dying and rising are values that are lived out every day by the staff, the volunteers, the residents and clients of Safe Haven ministries.

This year, woman have comes to Ramoth House, weighed down, stooped over an emptiness, a despair, inside of them bigger than any bruise. And, at the end of 30-days time, there is something in their posture, shoulders back, head defiant. Something that hadn't been there before: hope. Death and resurrection.

This year, children have come to "I Feel Better Now" programs hosted at Safe Haven's offices. Their voices have been silenced by fear and mistrust. Together in safe space, they discover the life-giving, life-affirming voice of their own story, which bubbles up from inside of them and gives them the courage they need to move forward into life. Death and resurrection.

The victim who hangs up the phone from a crisis call, who, out of the chaos of violence, resolves that she can make it just one more day. Death and resurrection.

The survivor who tells her story, that this is who I once was but now I have come to the place where I have life and have it abundantly. Death and resurrection.

The clergy person who preaches to the broken, who uses her prophetic voice wisely but firmly, who speaks truth to power with the fire of Ezekiel and the passion of Jeremiah and the comfort of Isaiah. Death and resurrection.

Brothers and sisters in Christ, we have been given the opportunity to offer the last word in the face of this world's power structures. Survivors, staff, board members, volunteers: you are bringing resurrection where there had previously only been death. Be encouraged. What I want to say to you has already been said by the Apostle Paul: "Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the LORD, because you know that your labor in the LORD is not in vain."

Thanks be to God.

Learning To Be Me Again

2008-10-06T21:44:00.002-04:00

I've been in my job for 7 weeks now -- almost two months. The adrenaline rush has passed.

When I look back over the past 6 months, I see one milestone after another: job interview, graduation, more job interview, approved as a candidate for ministry, receiving a call, accepting a call, moving, setting up house- and office-keeping, passing my Classis exam, being ordained. . .wow-zah! And God has been so gently faithful, guiding me through, one hoop, one hurdle, one obstacle at a time.

When I look forward, I see a much different landscape. One that seems a bit flat, unfamiliar, filled with very few milestones and much ordinary, parish life. I am looking toward, what Eugene Peterson once called, "a long obedience in the same direction." I'm not complaining, of course. I scaled those mountains in the past for this. And the plains have a beauty of their own. But it is an unfamiliar beauty. And I find myself unfamiliar in it.

Who am I now? In this place? In this job? I have a job description to tell me but seminary taught me to think in terms of identity. Who am I in this role? In this calling?

In my first year of seminary, I read The Woman Being the Collar and a piece of that memoir has always stayed with me - that, in the Church of England, priests aren't paid a salary, they are paid a stipend. A salary is money you recieve for doing a particular job. A stipend is an amount of money set aside for you, in order that you may continue doing and being whatever/whoever it is that you would be doing anyway, if money were no object.

I am not Church of England (sadly) and I am paid a salary but, as I sort through what it means to be me again, I'm taking time to think of myself as living on stipend. Of figuring out what I would be doing and being if expectations (yours, mine and ours) were no issue.

Ah, but expectations are an issue. I learned in seminary that every pastor steps into an intricate web of expectations, most of which will remain completely invisible, until you transgress them. But even in the healthiest of congreations (and I do believe I have it better than most) the hardest, most demanding expectations of all are always your own.

I reread this passage from TWBTC this evening and it brought a tight knot into my stomache, which brought me to my computer for some written catharsis. Wallis wrote on her recommendation to theological training and vocation:

I was so happy - it was like opening an exam results letter and discovering that I had passed. As the euphoria wore off, reality began to take hold and I began to worry. Just exactly how big was this sacrifice going to be? I might never have a boyfriend again --after all, who would want to be a vicar's husband? . .Would it be like joining a convent or monastery? Would everyone be terribly serious and holy? Would life, as I knew it, come to an end? It was a leap of faith into the unknown and I was nervous. Eventually, I stopped worrying and remembered my promise to God and myself that I could, should, and would be myself."

Dear readers, this is the question I wrestle with tonight, as I lay my head on my pillow in anticipation of another week of being Irreverently Reverend: will I ever be able to stop worrying about all of these things? Can I remember my promise to God and to myself that I can, shall and will be myself?

I do, God helping me.

The Feast of St. Francis

2008-10-03T11:52:00.002-04:00

(thanks to revgalblogpals for this one.)

Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace;

where there is hatred, let me sow love;

where there is injury, pardon;

where there is doubt, faith;

where there is despair, hope;

where there is darkness, light;

and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,

grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;

to be understood, as to understand;

to be loved, as to love;

for it is in giving that we receive,

it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,

and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

Amen.

As a church preparing for Faith in Action Sunday, I can think of no more fitting sentiment.

As a new pastor, I can think of no more profound challenge.

As a profoundly broken person, living in a world of profoundly broken persons, I can think of no deeper truth. It is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

Things That Are More Complicated Once You're A Pastor:

2008-10-01T17:18:00.003-04:00

1. Cutting people off in traffic.

2. Haircuts. Sure, you think it's easy to go in and get 8 inches of hair chopped off your head, until, with great foresight, you realize: easily distracted, fashion-conscience parishoners may spend the 20 minutes of your next sermon ruminating, "Pastor Meg got her hair cut. Well, that's alright I suppose. I wonder what it looks like from the back? Why doesn't she turn around so we can see? She's awfully intent on her sermon. . .um, I think I like the cut. . .did she get a color-change too? It's quite a change. Well, I don't know whether I like it after all. It kind of reminds me of a celebrity's hair. . .who am I thinking of?" So, you end up scheduling your hair appointment around the weeks you are off the preaching schedule and only visible for prayers and announcements. . .they're supposed to have their eyes closed during the prayers and maybe you're first announcement could be the haircut!

3. Going to church to hear from God. . .without trying to remember people's names, being asked for keys or mumbling through the sermon's key transition paragraph. Added complexity comes with the ordination because then you are also responsible for the greeting and benediction -- hands in the air, no room for cheat sheets.

4. Making friends.

True Confessions

2008-09-30T16:35:00.003-04:00

I'm not a phone person. There are very few people that I connect with as myself on the phone. Even people I love in real life and miss dreadfully. I talk all over myself and get easily distracted. I leave long, rambling messages. I start checking my e-mail. It's not pretty. I think I'm just kind-of a phone disaster. There, I've said it. . .wait, can you hold on a second. . .

("Third Church, this is Pastor Meg. . .Yes, hello! I'm so glad you called. . .")

Turns out, ministry requires a strong phone skill set. Did not know this. Am feeling a bit betrayed by this turn of events. Am trying to remember if anyone told me this in seminary. . .

Happy Rosh Hashanah!

2008-09-28T23:22:00.002-04:00

I heard this interview twice today on Speaking of Faith. I HIGHLY recommend downloading the interview and listening to it when you've got a spare 53 minutes. I've never wanted to be Jewish so badly in my life as when I hear this woman talk. . .

(Please note that an especial fondness for Jesus Christ and belief that He is the Son of God, keeps me firmly planted in the Christian camp.)

Where I've Been

2008-09-27T22:27:00.002-04:00

Don't know if any of you folks still come around this site on occasion. Clearly, I don't. But, six weeks into my very first grown-up pastor job and with a week's worth of ordination under my belt, I'm thinking about revamping this old junker of a blog. A fresh coat of paint and some curtains might just do the trick. So, please do stay tuned.

In the meantime, I think this video is both a) hilarious and b) an apt depiction of my current state of mind, body and soul. I hope you enjoy!

Sitting with Jesus

2008-06-04T10:38:00.002-04:00

Over the past four years, I guess you could say I’ve been in the trenches with Jesus. I’ve scrambled. I’ve learned. I’ve done what needed doing. Greek vocabulary got memorized. Hebrew grammar got parsed. Systematics papers on atonement and forgiveness got written. Reformation history got tested. I have fought the good fight.

And then there were the internships where I learned to love beyond the limits of my own compassion. I discovered the love of God going before me and behind me and beneath me and above me. I had opportunity to practice conflict management. I mostly practiced conflict avoidance. I discovered who I was a person and as a pastor. I wrote sermons on Friday mornings. I was present on Sundays for worship and fellowship and last minute preparation and worship again. I slept late on Mondays. I went to meetings. I went to hospital bedsides. I didn’t always get it right but I showed up. I have finished the race.

But have I kept the faith? Have I kept the faith? That is the great, haunting question, after all. All I know is best said by the church father, Ireneus, who wrote: “The glory of God is the human person fully alive.” I know that I have come alive over these past four years, even as pieces of me have been sloughed off like so much dead skin. The core of my humanity – body, soul, mind and spirit – are, indeed, fully alive and I have felt the glory of God in the midst of that vale of tears that was a car ride home from the hospital. And I have felt the glory of God at worship in the outdoor ampitheatres of our national parks. And I have even felt the glory of God in the study of church history, that great communion of the saints, and the task of piecing the story together in something akin to a systematic fashion. I have felt the glory of God in the words of Scripture, lifted from ancient texts by skilled hands and presented to us in breath-taking moments of “that’ll preach!” So I know beyond knowing that God has been present with me in the trenches.

I’ve been in the trenches with Jesus for four long years, even longer than that. More like a lifetime. But its only now in the lazy pace of summer that I can sit with Him for hours. I can read and pray and write and think and FEEL again. It’s a place of reacquaintance, which, I’ll grant you is strange, because we’ve never been unacquainted. God’s been with me all along but mostly in what Wendell Berry terms “the household economy” of togetherness. We’ve been together to get life done. We’ve stood together shoulder-to-shoulder (yes, I recognize the presumption of this statement. I’m sure that God has had the lion’s share in all of this and yet it feels like partnership too). And at long last, we are collapsed together onto the couch. And we are talking. And laughing. And crying. And looking back over the past four years at what we’ve accomplished, well, there’s no other way of saying it, of what we’ve accomplished together (presumption again!)

There has been much love manifested in the hard work of the trenches. Isn’t love, after all, most normally lived out in the ordinary? The mundane? The rote? The seamless union that barely requires words but moves forward upon the strength of mutual understanding?

I’ll grant, though, that in the midst of maneuvers, it is impractical to say all that may need to be said. It is in the quiet of recouperative stillness that mid-course adjustments may be broached. It is the coziest of intimacies that allows us to say to one another, “You know that thing you always do? Well I don’t know that its helping our relationship any.” And the outrageous piece of the story is that, in the quietness of recouperative stillness, I can hear these words from Jesus. And in that coziest of intimacies, I am freed to ask, “What are we going to do with me?”

And Jesus says He guesses He’ll keep loving me. And I say, Good thing. And then we sit some more.

Bridget Jones Graduates Seminary

2008-06-03T21:02:00.003-04:00

She packed up her potential and all she had learned, grabbed a cute pair of shoes and headed out to change a few things.*

Margaret J. Jenista, M.Div

To my cheerleaders, cohorts, champions, and yes, even you lurking cynics: I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.

Now it only remains with me to discern what comes next. No small task but God is faithful. At the same time, the details of this process are not blog-fodder so I may have to leave you in the dark for awhile yet, my dear and faithful blog-friends. However, summer is profiting me great opportunities to read, think and feel again. As a result, I feel some bloggin' coming on!

*from a graduation card from dear friend & mentor. Manifold thanks, Mary!

Numbers 6 - Club Remix

2008-04-12T23:10:00.003-04:00

Since meeting with my spiritual director over a week ago, I've had the words of the Aaronic blessing (no, not ironic. Aaronic. Although, in some circumstances and certainly with some people, wouldn't an ironic blessing just nail it?) pulsing in my head. What do these words mean? Well, perhaps this:

The Lord bless you. . .
With courage to hold onto yourself.
With truth to feel your grief as it is.
With friendship to accompany you on the long journey home.
And the Lord keep you. . .
From believing yourself to be the sum total of all your mistakes.
From moving forward without honoring this moment's complexity.
From that particular isolation, which may eventually break the spirit.
The Lord make his face to shine upon you. . .
As a friend thowing his head back to join in your laughter.
As a mother mirrors the heart on her infant child's face.
As a lover feasts on the nuance of a grin and a wink.
And give you his smile of peace. . .
So that you may breathe again.
So that you may love with a greater portion of wisdom this time.
So that you may know yourself (with the deepest know of the deepest yourself)
to be the Beloved of God.
. . .both this day and forevermore. Amen.

But perhaps not only this. What would you say?

Yes, Yes, I Know. . .

2008-03-13T20:58:00.003-04:00

Where have I been all your lives (since February 14)?

The question is. . .around. Mostly. Being uninspired and, I fear, uninspiring. But the malaise of February has passed and I have begun to hope for spring. First things first, though, a Hebrew quiz beckons.

In the meantime, here's some Meg writing to tide you over since, presumptious though it may be, I assume that's why you've bothered to travel all this way through the blogosphere. Please o please don't say otherwise.

You Say It Best When You Say It In 6-Words or Less

2008-02-14T00:23:00.002-05:00

So, I'm trying to finish a really exciting paper on Christians & contraception. (please note that "really exciting" is not intended as sarcasm.) I'm totally excited about my research, challenged to keep thinking and discerning, etc. (please further note that this topic has no particular exigency to my current life circumstances [this note is for you - mom, dad, future calling church.]) But there is one book that I need and do not have in order to pull it all together, to bring it home, to facilitate the altar call and save souls for Jesus. It is this book by this woman.

So, instead of reading Jenell's book, I read her blog. Well, not all of it but enough to know that, aside from her ethical rubric of shalom for moral decision-making regarding contracepetion, she is also a delightful and engaging wit. Her latest blog post is exactly what I needed to hear and assimilate into my life.

But now I fear I am on a strange dead-ahead course toward sychophantism so I will hang a sharp detour here to one last Jenell-ian blog post. She proposes:

6-Word (or less) Titles for My Autobiography.

Here are a few of mine:
Detours are My Road Through Life.
I Got Screwed By Joshua Harris.
Seduced by John Calvin's Sexy Theology.
Hey, This Wasn't My Idea.
Always the Officiant, Never the Bride.

Now, what are a few of yours?

Sunday Addendum to Saturday's Thoughts

2008-02-10T12:34:00.000-05:00

Sometimes, when you go the church, the Pastor manages to say just exactly the right thing. Sometimes the pastor leads you to the threshhold of the place where God manages to say just exactly the right thing.

This morning's Scripture text was Mark 8:34-37 "Then he called the crowd to him along with his disciples and said: 'If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it. What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul? Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul?"

I probably don't need to mention in this company the many ways that this verse has been misused. The abused wife is told that she is to go home and "bear her cross." She is told not to concern herself with saving her life, for that is God's job. Her job is to deny herself. This, I am afraid there is no pleasant way to say it, is bull-$#%!. Most of us recognize that much.

But, in more subtle forms, the idea of self-denial is often used to persuade women to give up dreams that float too far adrift from womanly limitations. In fact, Elisabeth Elliot prescribes, "So the woman who accepts the limitations of womanhood finds in those very limitations her gifts, her special calling - wings, in fact, which bear her up into perfect freedom, into the will of God." (Let Me Be a Woman, 32.)

In reference to my post of yesterday afternoon, though, I got to thinking. The purpose of self-denial is Christ and the Gospel. Fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfector of our faith, "let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily ensnares and let us run with perseverence the race marked out for us."

What if self-denial isn't about "amputating the parts of ourselves that don't quite fit" into the glorious story, as told by Elisabeth Elliot, of womanhood as limitation?
What if self-denial is about perservering long and hard after God and denying that voice that tells us to quit, to give in, to fit in and just do the traditional thing?
What if self-denial is about choosing to set aside that inner-voice that wants, so desperately needs, to be like and affirmed, even if that means resignation to the popular Christian gender sterotypes around us?

The word translated life in verses 35-36 may also be rendered "spirit." So many women walk through life looking to save their spirits by offering themselves to anyone or anything that promises restoration and healing.
"I'll cut an edge off my spirit here, if you'll accept me and tell me I'm a good Christian woman."
"I'll hand over my spirit to your safekeeping with the very tenuous promise given that you will respect me in the morning."
Other women, following hard after God's unique call of their whole person, find their spirit broken, wounded by the Christian world's tsk-tsking. Perhaps it is for us, dear sisters, that this verse speaks.

"For whoever wants to save HER SPIRIT will lose it, but whoever loses HER SPIRIT for me and for the Gospel will save it. What good is it for a WOMAN to gain the whole world'S APPROVAL, yet forfeit her SPIRIT? For what can a WOMAN give in exchange for HER SPIRIT?"

Go now in peace, knowing that your Spirit is of infinite worth to God, the God whom Isaiah promises: "gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. . .But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength (their spirits?) They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint."

(cheeky aside: Mark tells us that God renews our spirits. Isaiah tells us that God gives us strength to soar with eagles wings. Elisabeth Elliot tells us that accepting our womanly limitation is the source of our winged freedom. Looks like someone forgot to use her God-active language. . .)

Sometimes I think God Made Me Wrong.

2008-02-09T13:46:00.000-05:00

In 1963, Betty Friedan wrote, “There was a strange discrepancy between the reality of our lives as women and the image to which we were trying to conform, the image that I came to call the feminine mystique.” Friedan’s revolutionary research is the underpinning of the 1960s and 70s feminist movement, the aims of which have, in many ways, supplanted the so-called feminine mystique as the operational norm of gender stereotype and feminine self-understanding in broader culture.

However, in the church, the feminine mystique is still the prescribed script for gender stereotype and feminine self-understanding. A look at the titles on the shelf of the "Women's Interest" section of your local Family Christian bookstore serves as evidence that we mostly still accept a one-size-fits-all mentality of Christian womanhood.

There is a dominant story being told in our Christian churches about what it means to be a woman. In reality, there are a lucky few women who naturally fit into this story. Some women subconsciously adopt this narrative, pretending it is there own, amputating the parts of themselves that don't quite fit between the covers of the storybook beign read to them. Most women I know are partial-resisters of the story, timidly struggling against but ultimately bowing to the societal hand-slap that comes along with trying to tell the pieces of your truth that don't fit well in the plotline of the dominant narrative. There are some women out there who just flat out resist the story being told about them. I would very much like to meet these women.

I suppose there are folks out there who might assume I'm a no-holds-barred resister. In my own defense and in anticipation of hearing echoes of this truth from others, I tell this story about my own timid struggle.

Before taking my first preaching class at Calvin Theological Seminary, I prayed
that I would be horrible at it. I prayed that there would be unanimous confirmation that, certainly, this is NOT how God had gifted me and that I ought to consider doing something else with my life. If I couldn’t preach, you seen, then I was off the hook and could go back to my regularly scheduled life – a life that did not include rocking the boat. I didn’t have some radical agenda. I wasn’t looking to prove anything. That's not quite true. I was looking to prove that I didn't ahve some radical agenda.

At the same time, I knew myself well enough to guess this was going to be one of those unsatisfactorily answered prayers. And, frankly, I was mad at God for the umpteeth time in my life because God made me in such a way that God's people didn't know what to do with me.

So I preached and, it turns out, I preached pretty well. It also turned out that I loved doing it. So then I felt trapped by this call to ministry that was going to make my life difficult. Even after resigning myself too it, I was, simultaneously, ashamed of it. Once, preaching in front of my mentor, she stopped me and asked, “Why are you standing there with one leg wrapped around the other? You look like you’re nervous or that you’re trying not to take up too much room. What’s that about?” Before I could even think, I said: “Its okay if I preach but if I’m too good at it or confident, it’ll make the boys feel bad.” Both of our eyes turned round as saucers. I clamped a hand over my mouth. We both stood there. I felt like I was going to cry. “Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks.”

It sometimes feels, to me, that people assume my decision to pursue preaching and ordination was somehow cavalierly and easily made. Even though I know that I have been called to this. That fact is obvious to me after several internships and plenty of pulpit supply. Even though I know God is calling me to do this, I still find it difficult to feel the entirety of God’s delight because I know that this calling comes with the mixed reviews of God’s church.

I remember a more conservative time in my life when I assumed that women preachers were all New-Age goddess-worshippers who cut up Scripture to their own liking. That's another story I'm timidly struggling against. But, within the past week, I've had professors, collegues and long-ago friends remind me that resisting the church's dominent narrative is still a hand-slappable offense. Somedays I have the gumption to keep on keeping on. Other days, I'm just tired.
And on those days,I secretly suspect God just made me wrong.
And on those days, being the person God has called me to be, following hard after God's will seem like so much work compared to the tidy little story God's people want to cram me into.
And on those days, I just wish I was one of those lucky few women who naturally fit into the story of the Christian feminine mystique.

Surely?

2008-02-01T16:32:00.000-05:00

Has it been a whole month since I last posted? Beloved readers, I apologize for my absence. I've been writing candidacy documents, minister profiles, resumes, sermons and the like. I have had precious little in the way of creative impulse. Now that I'm ready to blog again, I find I'm a bit rusty.

I'll let Abbey speak to you in my place. This clip makes my heart happy!

Surely?

Since Last We Met. . .

2007-12-31T13:02:00.000-05:00

* I successfully sustained my Oral Comprehensive Exams.

* I travelled home for Christmas and spent good times with family, especially my niece and nephew.

* I attended the funeral of a seminary classmate killed in a car accident.

* I celebrated the baptism of a new baby for the family I used to nanny for.

One of these things doesn't belong. One of these things is not like the others.

I heard about Ted Vellenga's death on Christmas Eve day. I wrote a proper remembrance here. But now for my own thoughts. My own catharsis. My own grappling with death.

I find Christmas is an uncomfortable place in the liturgical season for grief. So many people's thoughts are turned to schmatltzy sentimentality about the Christ-child. Frankly, a sweet baby Jesus asleep in the hay just didn't cut it for me this year. One sermon I heard turned our attention to the forgiveness of sins on the Cross. Better. But still not enough. I have every confidence that my friend, Ted, is in heaven right now because Jesus did die on the Cross to forgive sin and Ted loved, served and modelled this belief. But where is the Jesus, the God who can fix all of this world's pain? THAT is the Jesus I needed this Christmas. Today, as I read the last Scripture texts for the year from the Common Book of Prayer, I read Revelation 21:1-4

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Now the dwelling of God is with mortals, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or cyring or pain, for the old order of things has passed away."

This is the picture of the Savior I needed this Christmas. But its tricky. This is also the picture of the Savior we don't yet have. This is the Savior for whom we hope and wait and pray our whole earthly lives. This is the Savior who welcomed my friend Ted home with open arms on December 22, 2007.

Glory to you, our Lord Jesus Christ; in love the Father begot you, and in love you make yourself known to all who celebrate you. In you is our beginning, and in you our hope and desires find their fulfillment. So deliver us from the sadness of doubt and fear. May the secret of your birth and the glory of your cross always remain in our minds. For your light shines in our darkness and nothing shall separate us from the power of your love, now or ever. Amen.

A Sunday Five

2007-12-16T21:35:00.000-05:00

(from RevGalBlogPals)

Rejoice in the nearness of Christ's coming, yes, but also in the many gifts of the pregnant waiting time when the world (in the northern hemisphere, at least) spins ever deeper into sweet, fertile darkness.

What makes you rejoice about:

1. Waiting?
In general, I'm not a big fan. Waiting includes the possibility of surprise, even disappointment. As I look forward to graduation and the great unknown, I'm confused that this waiting is, for some reason, not filled with dread. I'm even on the verge of rejoicing. . .but let's not get all crazy just yet.
2. Darkness?
The way the snow flakes show up against the dark sky. To stand in a dark, deserted location and look up into the never-ending shower of snowflakes is the quietest, most beautiful place in the world.
3. Winter?
A cosy chair by the window with a hot beverage, a delightful just-for-me book and some beautiful music. I'm currently hearting Andrew Ippel's Peace CD - just in time for the best kind of winter cozy (plus, he's local, undiscovered talent)!
4. Advent?
I am so enjoying my Advent wreath this year. I made it myself and I find myself so excited each Sunday to light a new candle. The Christ Candle is so perfect & pristine, it almost taunts me. I want to light it RIGHT NOW and living with that impatience is a delightful reminder of how I should always feel as a member of the already-not-yet-Kingdom.
5. Jesus' coming?
Come quickly Lord Jesus for there is too much of the not-yet in this Kingdom of yours. After only a summer's worth of pastoring, I know enough of human sorrow and suffering to rejoice in the promise that someday every tear will be wiped from our eyes. In the meantime, I'll just keep Kleenex close at hand.

A Little of This, A Little of That

2007-12-11T11:51:00.000-05:00

So, its six months until graduation and people are starting to ask about my plans for my newly minted M.Div.
My senior year of college, when people asked me that question (and I truly had no idea) I would answer: "Table dancing. I'm going to see the world, one seedy bar at a time." I don't think I should respond this way now. . .
Here, faithful blogophiles, I shall tell you what I know about how the next 12 months of my life is going to shake out. I graduate in May. I'll (Lord & candidacy committee willing) be approved by Synod in June. After that, I'll be available for a call. And now you know as much as I do.
As far as dreams and wishes are concerned, I will say I'm looking to serve in a church context. I'm not gunning for a sole or senior pastor position, I'd be content in the context of co- or associate pastorship, if the fit is right. And, by the fit being right, I mean that my heart, gifts and abilities for ministry are strongest in preaching and pastoral care. Being allowed to do those things in the context of an emotionally healthy church congregation would be ideal. (note: this does not mean I expect people to be saints. I'm quite comfortable with the nitty-gritty of total depravity. I'm talking about the church as a system, more than the individuals in it.)
On the other hand, ought beggers to be choosers? And, while I wait around for this to happen, what am I going to do to put food on my table? I'm open to anyplace in North America although I'm most intrigued by the work that the CRC does in towns and cities that only have one CRC. I've always thought it was strange to drive past 3 different CRC churches on a Sunday morning just to get to mine. I like the way CRC congregations define themselves when they are the only one of their kind in a particular location. . .ah, but again with the beggers/choosers thing. These are the questions that still plague me and, for which, I ask your prayers and encouragements.

Also, this is my 200th blog post. Can you believe it? Have I really had that much to say? Nevermind, I've said it anyway. But this puts me in mind of a lengthy quotation from Frederick Buechner:

This is all part of the story about what it has been like to be me, and before anybody else has the chance to ask it, I will ask it myself: Who cares? What in the world could be less important than who I am. . .the mistakes I have made together with the occasional discoveries, the bad times and the good times, the moments of grace. . .
But I talk about my life anyway because if, on the one hand, hardly anything could be less important, on the other hand, hardly anything else could be more important. My story is important not because it is mine, God knows, but because if I tell it anything like right, the chances are you will recognize that in many ways it is also yours. Maybe nothing is more important than that we keep track, you and I, of these stories of who we are and where we have come from and the people we have met along the way because it is precisely through these stories in all their particularity, as I have long believed and often said, that God makes himself known to each of us most powerfully and personally. If this is true, it means that to lose track of our stories is to be profoundly impoverished.

Thanks for letting me tell my story. For listening. For caring. For keeping me company on the journey.

Grace & peace.

Advent Living

2007-12-07T10:43:00.000-05:00

Erica tagged me for a meme about Advent music, which got me thinking about Advent and about music, which spawned this post.

Advent, according to Random House Webster's Dictionary (its what I had on hand, ok?) "an arrival; a coming. The coming of Christ." I'm intrigued by the fact that it has the same root as "adventure," although I am not sure what to make of this.

I also did some heady research on Wikipedia and found:

Adventus is the Latin word for "coming", and is the exact Latin equivalent for the Greek word parousia, commonly used in reference to the Second Coming. Christians believe that the season of Advent serves a dual reminder of the original waiting that was done by the Hebrews for the birth of their Messiah as well as the waiting that Christians today endure as they await the second coming of Christ.

Of all the seasons of the church year, I feel the closest connection to Advent. Most of my life seems characterized by waiting, for longing, for the already and the not-quite yet. I'm grateful to be part of a church tradition that gives me space to sigh and fall into this vaguely holy melancholy and meet God there before I am swept away by the happy, Happy, HAPPY! of Christmas. I am most content, most honest and most myself when I am Advent Living. When I am recognizing what is right and good from all I have recieved from the gracious hand of God and also recognizing that all is not yet as it one day shall be.

As for music, most of the stuff I have fired up on my IPod that gets most recently listened status falls into the category of longing and expectant music. So, for Erica, I'll tell you 5 of my favorites but, they are not only for Advent, they are for living.

Music for the Already, Not-yet:

Over the Rhine strikes a consistantly winsome and longing note. Karen's voice is Advent to me. I find this especially true on the Ohio, Good Dog, Bad Dog and Drunkard's Prayer albums although, Advent or no, I am currently infatuated with The Trumpet Child.

Every year I make a Christmas CD, as opposed to a Christmas letter, that details my favorite music of the past 12 months. This year my CD concludes with a track from Denison Witmer. His mellow, plain guitar playing leaves plenty of room for story-telling and blessing. I recommend Denison Witmer writ-large but, if you want to try on one track for size, I'd go straight to Finding Your Feet Again.

In person, there is very little of the melancholy in Rosie Thomas -- she's actually kind-of nutso -- but her voice seems to lift you out of your chair, floating on a cloud of whimsy and longing, only to place you gently back after she's had her artistic way with you.

Okay, this one may seem strange but its been on my playlist for the past month or so. Eddie Vedder wrote and performed the soundtrack for the Sean Penn movie, Into the Wild. The story of Chris McCandless deserves a post of its own (coming soon to a favorite blog near you) but for now, his story is certainly an adeventure and it may just be an Advent, too.

Finally, and probably least obscure, is Sufjan Stevens' 5-disc Christmas CD. Although he forays into world of Christmas, he does so with a characteristic beauty that, still, somehow captures the weight of Advent.

"We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as heirs, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope, we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what he already has? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently." (Rom. 8:22-25)

A Philosophic & Hermeneutic Conundrum

2007-11-29T18:11:00.000-05:00

(does that make it philoneutic or hermosophic?)

So, I was at the movies last night (I'm Not There - Cate Blanchett as Dylan is mindblowing) and I saw a preview for the new Will Smith movie - you know, the one where he's apparently the last person left alive on the planet. And he's trying to find other people and stuff.

But I got to thinking: what if I were the last person on earth and I had to recreate civilization for (spoiler alert) all the other people who eventually come out of hiding to go on and re-spawn the whole human race? So they'd all be like:
"You're religious. Why don't you recreate Christianity for us. Maybe try to rewrite all those sacred documents that got demolished in the end of the world. You know, whatev."

Here's my question: Would I recreate Scripture as best I am able, exactly according to what I can remember, including all those passages about how women are weaker vessels and need to submit and be quiet in church? OR would I leave household codes, weird Old Testament events involving genocide and mutilated concubines out? If I left them out, what justification would/could I give for my decision?

So, people, whaddya think?

Black Friday Theology

2007-11-23T14:34:00.000-05:00

So, standing in line 1/2 dozen thick @ Sears about 5:20am, surrounded by entitled people, saccherine "holiday" cheer and unneccessarily large electronics, I had this thought:

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.

Sweet Jesus, what were you thinking?

Church Sign Theology

2007-11-10T17:06:00.000-05:00

I recently drove by a local church with one of those cutesy church signs out front, this one proclaiming:

Christians Aren't Perfect, Just Forgiven.

Well, first off, I suppose I should affirm what is true about this statement. Christians aren't perfect. I would assess that the lingering nature of depravity is a correct doctrine of humanity. And Christians are forgiven. That is the grace of the Gospel message, the forefront concern of Christ's incarnation and the peace/shalom we are enabled to bring to the world. So, yes, forgiveness. Good. Very well done on the soteriology.

Having said all that, church signs are for the benefit of those outside the church (seems obvious given their location.) Those outside the church are unsually not INSIDE the church for a reason. And, if you ask your run-of-the-mill 10am Sunday gardener/runner/New York Times reader why they aren't in church, I'm guessing you'll hear something about the hypocrisy and irrelevance of organized religion. So,

In a world where Christians scream hate at scared, pregnant 16-year-old girls who don't know where else to turn
And priests molest little children
And pastors carry placards proclaiming, "God hates fags"
And the affluence of most churches is chilling in the face of worldwide AIDS, violence and war
And church elders tell women with black eyes to go back home and submit
And deacons turn away people who can't turn on their heat

If you were a non-church person, how would you hear the quip,

Christians Aren't Perfect, Just Forgiven?

Because, in the context of very real and lamentable failures on the part of church folk, this piece of church sign theology sounds, to me, like a giant "Screw you!" You (people outside the church) can't hold anything against us.
Jesus doesn't care anymore that the Christian kids in your 3rd grade class mocked you senseless because your mom was an atheist. They're forgiven.
Jesus doesn't care anymore that your Christian neighbor was way too cheery in her assessment of your father's front-row seat to inferno post-mortem. She's forgiven.
Jesus doesn't care anymore that your former preist or pastor told you that people with your kind of problem aren't welcome anymore. He's forgiven.

Nanny-nanny-boo-boo, WE'RE forgiven. Now, wouldn't you like to join us this Sunday? We have lovely programming for you children.

Waking Up to NPR

2007-11-08T08:07:00.000-05:00

Is usually one of life's simple pleasures. This morning, and I don't know whether this is due to a particularly curmudgeonly disposition on my part, but the stories I heard caused me to walk to school completely oblivious to the first tentative flakes of winter's precipitation tip-toeing around me. I try not to be too political on this blog. It really isn't my area of expertise. That being said, thinking like a Christian is fast becoming my area of professional expertise SO. . .

1) Pat Robertson of 700 Club fame has finally endorsed his candidate for the '08 election. . .(drum roll please). . . RUDY GIULIANI. What the flying. . .??? Rudy Giuliani - thrice divorce, pro-abortion, pro-gay marriage but, gosh darnitall, the man is tough on terror -- and he's promised us some conservative judges. PA-AT!!! YOU'VE GOT SOME 'SPLAININ' TO DO!!!

Now, to my readers who are evangelical block voters (and I know you're out there, stopping by for your daily dose of masochism at my liberal cockamamie hands) help me understand. You know, when your platform was anti-abortion I applauded you. When your platform turned to gay marriage bans, I rolled my eyes but at least understood how you came to your political views. But now I'm completely befuddled as to what particular moral high ground you are voting from. Seriously, I want to know, what makes your vote a "Christian" vote? It's not a vote against the ending of life in abortion, its not a vote in favor of the family (b/c the nuclear family is irrefutably the core of Christ's teaching, right?) its not a vote in favor of justice and peace and, the good Lord knows, you aren't voting for further financing of programs that care for the poor. So, seriously, I want to know, on what grounds can you claim your vote as a distinctively "Christian" vote?

And, of course, there are those who won't be supporting Rudy Guiliani, despite Pope Pat's endorsement. Sen. Brownback has thrown his hat in the ring with John McCain (not the worst republican candidate and, certainly, more consistent on the issues that, at least, used to matter to evangelical voters.) It appears that Bob Jones III is right around the corner from pitching his support to Mitt Romney. (A mormon. Yes, that makes sense. Its not like there are any congregationalists or baptists running for president -- at least not on the right side of the aisle.)

I'm not sure who I'm voting for yet but, it seems to me, the candidates who have done the most invigorating, most compelling thinking about faith and politics are sitting on the other side of the aisle. Folks, once Pat Robertson endorses Rudy Guiliani, any claim Evangelical block voters may claim to the moral high ground are gone. Wiped out in a tsunami of political party loyalty that betrays the fact that Jesus Christ came to take away our sins, not our minds.

2) And, as if that wasn't enough, the next story on NPR was about the release of 500 Iraqi detainees from American concentration camps (oh, don't get mad at me. Internment camps. Is that better?) The US government has decided that these people are "no longer" a terrorist threat. Hmm, pardon me but by "no longer" do you mean "never were"? Whoopsies! But, I'm sure these 500 men can have no ill-will against America now. After all, we brought in a military band to play music, we lined up folding chairs in a row, we even brought in a special speaker for their graduation from detainment camp. Yes, I'm sure there was much frivolity and caps being thrown into the wind. Much rejoicing and reminiscing about the good ol' days. "Remember the time we were hazed in the shower room before gym class. Golly, that Sergeant sure was a corker." "Man, I can't believe detainment camp is over. It seems only 4 short years ago, we showed up bewildered, got thrown in some lockers, forced to eat Western cafeteria food and those tests, boy, I can't even believe we passed them -- and by passed them, I mean we were caused to pass out from the waterboarding. Look at all we've accomplished since then. Boy, I'm sure I won't forget the good ol' days of Guantanamo Bay."

"Behold, I am coming soon! My reward is with me, and I will give to everyone according to what he has done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the last, the Beginning and the End. . .Amen. Come, Lord Jesus."

Maranatha. Come, Lord Jesus.

Guess Who Made It on FOX NEWS?!?

2007-11-04T00:41:00.000-04:00

Me!

You are Invited!

2007-10-30T17:18:00.000-04:00

In honor of the great tradition of rebels, schismatics, and theologians in which we stand,
You are cordially invited to the FOURTH annual
Reformation Day Party!
As a nod of appreciation to our theological roots, we will be partaking in the sweet nectar of the
Reformation – that is, beer! Also, as an extraspecial nod of appreciation for one Jean Cauvin, we will partake a traditional Swiss delicacy -- Fondue (of both Cheese and Chocolate varieties.)

Who: all Catholic, Lutheran, Reformed, Episcopal and/or Anabaptist Seminary students, staff or professors (Significant others and friends!)

Why: Because Muslims have Ramadan, Jews have Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, Wiccans have Halloween and it’s about time Protestants claimed their crazy Autumnal holiday (plus the church calendar tends to lag this time of year.)

“For it is by grace you are invited…” But as your appropriate works of gratitude, please consider:
1)Please DO come dressed as your favorite Reformer
2) Please DON’T come empty handed. BYOB or bring something for dipping in the aforementioned cheese and chocolate fondues!

Did the Woman Say. . .

2007-10-23T19:32:00.000-04:00

Did the woman say,
When she held him for the first time in the dark of a stable,
After the pain and the bleeding and the crying,
“This is my body, this is my blood”?

Did the woman say,
When she held him for the last time in the dark rain on a hilltop,
After the pain and the bleeding and the dying,
“This is my body, this is my blood”?

Well that she said it to him then,
For dry old men,
Brocaded robes belying barrenness,
Ordain that she not say it for him now.

Written by Frances Croake Frank (Quoted by Susan A. Ross, “Theology in Feminist Perspective, edited by Catherine Mowry Lacugna, Harper San Francisco, 1993, 185-183.)

Manifold thanks for this poem to Susan, the very-nearly-Reverend Systema Bratt. The PCUSA doesn't know how lucky it is -- or maybe they do. Congrats on the Ords!

Well, Bless Their Hearts

2007-10-12T19:28:00.000-04:00

Folks, Calvin Theological Seminary is seriously considering and enacting curricular changes. I wonder if I shouldn't tip President Plantinga off to this.

Oh, my dears, its such a bother to travel the internet so why don't I put the full text here. Less time on the internet means more time for scrubbing the bathroom floors, I like to say. And speaking of the bathroom, I do believe I'm feeling a bit nauseous.

Please try to keep your responses to a genteel "my goodness!" I don't think my delicate disposition can handle sturdier language.

At this Southern Baptist seminary, women who serve God also serve their husbands. Baking, sewing and laundry are part of the curriculum.

By Stephanie Simon, Los Angeles Times Staff Writer
October 11, 2007

FORT WORTH, TEXAS -- Equal but different.

You hear that a lot on the lush green campus of Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary. God values men and women equally, any student here will tell you. It's just that he's given them different responsibilities in life: Men make decisions. Women make dinner.

This fall, the internationally known seminary -- a century-old training ground for Southern Baptists -- began reinforcing those traditional gender roles with college classes in homemaking. The academic program, open only to women, includes lectures on laundering stubborn stains and a lab in baking chocolate-chip cookies.

Philosophical courses such as "Biblical Model for the Home and Family" teach that God expects wives to graciously submit to their husbands' leadership. A model house, to be completed by next fall, will allow women to get credit toward bachelor's degrees by learning how to set tables, sew buttons and sustain lively dinnertime conversation.

It all sounds wonderful to sophomore Emily Felts, 19, who signed up as soon as she arrived on campus this fall.

Several relatives have told Felts that she's selling herself short. They want her to become a lawyer, and she agrees she'd make a good one. But that's not what she wants to do with her life.

More to the point, it's not what she believes God wants of her.

"My created purpose as a woman is to be a helper," Felts said firmly. "This is a college education that I can use."

Seminary President Paige Patterson and his wife, Dorothy -- who goes by Mrs. Paige Patterson -- view the homemaking curriculum as a way to spread the Christian faith.

In their vision, graduates will create such gracious homes that strangers will take note. Their marriages will be so harmonious, other women will ask how they manage. By modeling traditional values, they will inspire friends and neighbors to read the Bible and then, perhaps, to follow the Lord.

"I'm personally going to teach the course in table manners," Paige Patterson said, moments after sneaking scraps of poached chicken off his lunch plate for his black Labrador, Noche.

His wife shook her head affectionately.

"Oh my," she said, in her gentle Southern lilt. "We'll have to pray for some help with that."

So far, just eight of the 300 students in the undergraduate program are enrolled in the homemaking concentration, which is similar to a major and counts toward a bachelor of arts in humanities. Many more women, including graduate students and wives of seminarians, study traditional gender roles in courses such as "Wife of the Equipping Minister." On a recent evening, more than 50 women -- some in sloppy sweats, others in prim sweater sets -- pulled out notebooks as class opened with student presentations.

One woman talked about her hobby of cross-stitching. Another showed how she uses the Internet to track grocery coupons.

Laney Homan, 30, drew excited murmurs with her talk on meal planning, complete with a recipe for a surefire "freezer pleaser" -- a triple batch of meatloaf (secret ingredient: oatmeal). Thanks to a computerized system for generating grocery lists, Homan said, "I've actually trained my husband to shop for me."

Laughing, she threw her palms toward the heavens and added: "Praise Jesus!"

For the rest of the nearly three-hour class, guest lecturer Ashley Smith, the wife of a theology professor, laid out the biblical basis for what she calls "the glorious inequalities of life."

Smith, 30, confided that she sometimes resents her husband for advancing his career "while I'm changing diapers and getting poop all over me."

But then she quoted from Ephesians: "Wives, submit to your own husbands, as to the Lord." And from Genesis: God created Eve to be a "suitable helper" for Adam.

"If we love the Scripture, we must do it," said Smith, who gave up her dreams of a career when her husband said it was time to have children. "We must fit into this role. It's so much more important than our own personal happiness."

More moderate Southern Baptists disagree, and counter with their own biblical references. When Jesus dined at the home of two sisters, he praised Mary, who spent the evening studying his teachings, above Martha, who did chores. Elsewhere in the New Testament, the Apostle Paul writes that "there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ."

"We're confusing 1950s culture with the teaching of Scripture," said Wade Burleson, a Southern Baptist pastor in Oklahoma. "I nowhere see where the Lord Jesus places limitations on the role of women in our culture."

One of the largest Southern Baptist seminaries, Southwestern draws students from around the world to its 200-acre campus, fringed by trees that set it apart from a rundown neighborhood in south Fort Worth. Nearly three-quarters of the 3,000 students at this campus are men, and many are older, having felt a call to ministry in midlife. The seminary caters to their families, with shaded sidewalks for strollers and a duck pond much beloved by toddlers.

In the undergraduate college -- which opened two years ago -- every student must take Greek or Latin, plus seminars that explore works by Sophocles and Shakespeare, Machiavelli and Marx, Darwin and Dostoyevsky.

The other day, Sarah Babler, an 18-year-old freshman enrolled in the homemaking program, was writing a paper on the Trojan War for one class. For another, she was parsing Proverbs 31 -- on the attributes of a godly woman.

She and others in the homemaking program devote about 20% of their classroom time over four years to courses such as "Clothing Construction," "Meal Preparation," and "Value of a Child."

Such classes went out of style at most secular colleges half a century ago, but undergraduate Quincy A. Jones said he considered them essential in a world where too many families are fractured and unhappy. Jones, who is married with five children, said he would encourage his teenage daughter to study homemaking.

"It's not limiting at all," said Jones, 35. "It prepares women for a variety of roles."

Paige Patterson agrees. His goal is to nurture well-rounded women who can do more than press a perfect crease: "We're equipping them to do home-schooling."

An avid hunter who wears cowboy boots to chapel, Patterson, 64, is a powerful -- and polarizing -- figure within the Southern Baptist Convention.

During his tenure as convention president in the late 1990s, Southern Baptists banned women from becoming pastors and called on every wife "to submit herself graciously to the servant leadership of her husband." Last year, Patterson fired a female professor of biblical languages; he interprets the Bible as prohibiting women from teaching men theology.

Many moderates have left the Southern Baptist convention in recent years -- including President Carter -- but it remains the largest Protestant denomination, claiming more than 16 million believers and 42,000 churches in the United States.

The conservative leadership plans to soon offer homemaking at other seminaries. Here at Southwestern, the classes are proving popular with a broad array of women.

Donella Cecrle, 36, spent years in the corporate world, traveling the nation to sell computer software -- and far out-earning her husband, Andy. Subservience wasn't in her vocabulary. Neither was homemaking. Most days, dinner was takeout from the Mexican restaurant down the street, or a quick meal at IHOP.

But about six years ago, the couple worked through a low point in their marriage with prayer and Bible study. Slowly, Cecrle said, she began to realize that she needed to change. When Cecrle became pregnant, she left work for good and now stays home with their two preschool-age children.

In what time she can spare, Cecrle works toward a bachelor's degree at the seminary. She started this semester with a homemaking course, which Dorothy Patterson, 63, teaches at her dining room table (artfully decorated with sprigs of autumnal berries and curls of pumpkin-hued ribbon).

Cecrle credits Dorothy Patterson's lectures on God's vision of womanhood with helping her embrace her role as helper -- and restrain her instincts to take charge. "I have to be able to shut my mouth," she said.

Many male graduate students at Southwestern take a class in masculine leadership, where they are admonished to put their wives' needs before their own even as they flex their authority. But there's no broader curriculum on a husband's role, leading Dusty Deevers, 30, to wonder what he and other male students might be missing. Labs on mowing the lawn? Trimming hedges? Balancing a checkbook? "Many, many men would be well-served by something like that," Deevers said.

Andy Cecrle, 42, takes it one step further: He would like to see a homemaking class for men, or at least a survival boot camp. He happens to know his way around the house and is proud that he changes his children's diapers. But he knows many guys don't even have a clue how to start the washer.

"What if my wife is sick and my kids need clean clothes? It may not hurt to have some basic tips," Cecrle said. Then he added cautiously: "A lot of people would take great exception to what I'm saying."

Felts is one of them. The whole point of taking college-level homemaking, she said, is to ensure that her husband won't ever feel that he has to darn a sock or do the laundry. Those are her jobs.

If she doesn't marry, that's fine, too; she'll pursue a master's in education -- and use it to teach homemaking.

"I'm not one of those out to rebel, out-to-be-my-own-woman types," she said.

Home-schooled by her mother, Felts is poised, articulate and unfailingly polite; she calls her elders "ma'am" and expresses surprise with a genteel "goodness!" She commutes to college from her family's Fort Worth home, so she has plenty of opportunity to work on her helper skills. She's sewing a pink-and-brown polka-dot dress for herself. She dusts, mops and vacuums. She often makes dinner for her family: Noodles from scratch, or quiche with a homemade crust.

Does she enjoy these tasks? Except for vacuuming, absolutely, Felts said. And if she didn't?

"It really doesn't matter what I think," Felts said. "It matters what the Bible says."

I think I used to be Emily Felts in a past life. Goodness! Don't I just praise Jesus for the work here's done in my life?!?

My favorite line: "We must fit into this role. Its so much more important than our own personal happiness." And now, dears, what noble truths did you gain from this r-ahem-fetching article?

True Love. . .does what now?

2007-09-07T14:11:00.000-04:00

So I'm back at school which means I have plenty to blog about again -- Hurrah!

The title of this post derives from the first of what I hope to be many engaging Pastoral Care & Human Sexuality classes and subsequent conversations with my roommate.

Now, I may be dating myself but who here remembers those old True Love Waits pledges? Remember how you went to a youth convention and were forc. . .encouraged to sign a card promising that you wouldn't have sex until your wedding night. You signed your name with an almighty, self-righteous flourish and your youth leaders smiled benevolently down upon you, relieved that they had done their job. Salvation? check. Purity? check. Done and done.

Now, I've probably gone to meddling when I ask: what do such movements teach us about sexuality? About being human? Well, of course, this isn't the comprehensive answer but here are a few thoughts off the top of my head.

* For many youth groupers signing the pledge allowed them to take the "anything but" mentality about sex. Sex is one thing, one action, one event. So long as you refrain from that one thing, God is pleased by the choices you have made regarding your sexuality and you are keeping good to your word.
* For many other youth groupers, of which I was one, purity became such a object of zealotry that any hint of flirtation, attraction, physical contact became filled with shame. Folks like Elisabeth Elliot and Joshua %#*-ing Harris prey on this guilt and fear, giving us pious reasons to retreat from, deny, flagellate any evidence of sexuality out of existence. True Love Waits. . .and oughtn't have any fun in the process.
* Which brings me to another point. True Love Waits. There's an interesting assumption embedded in that seemingly innocuous phrase. Waits. For what? Well, for marriage. Silly Meg, so far removed from her fundagelical roots has forgotten: Salvation? Check. Purity? Check. Marriage? Check. It is, as my professor caricatured it, "Don't do it. Don't do it. Don't do it. Ring. . .aaaaannnndd GO!" How well does that work? Sure hormones may carry you through a few years worth of marital, honeymoon bliss but eventually does the shame and guilt associated with sex during the first 18/25/30 years of your life catch up with folks? I don't have stats to support my claim. I'm just wondering.
* Also, waiting is such a negative label for where I am and what I am doing with my life as a celibate woman in my late 20s. Waiting connotes images of standing on the corner impatient for the bus that is marriage (and apparently real/grown-up life) to roll on into the station and sweep me off my feet. Waiting is the attempt to amuse myself with tattered Reader's Digest from 1997 in a doctors office while other people have their turn.

What is sexuality? Is it, as True Love Waits (and, really, the trajectory of church tradition since the time of Augustine) tries to tell us, a tap that we can turn off and on at will? Don't do it. Don't think about it. Don't want it. Don't think about wanting it. Don't. Don't. Don't. Wait. Wait. Wait.

Or is sexuality something inherent to humanity? Maybe its not an "it" after all. Sexuality is a part of who we are as people. And we bring it into a room when we meet new people. We bring it into laughter and conversation and friendship. We bring it into classrooms and bars and pulpits. Yes, I just said pulpits. Anytime we are asking our WHOLE SELVES to show up, we must include the reality that when God created humanity in the Garden of Eden, God created humanity both in the Image of the Triune God AND with a healthy and vital sexuality. When we fail to acknowledge this part of our personhood, when we shame it, trying to hide it in the corner under layers and layers of piety and external regulation, we are treating ourselves like naughty little children who must be constantly sent to the corner. Trouble is, sexuality, like small children, cannot be both ignored and healthy at the same time. Eventually they will sneak out and get themselves in trouble. It is only with repression that vices like pornography can become tantalizing.

A story and then I'm done. Two monks were walking in the woods when they come across a young, beautiful maiden in the middle of a stream. The water had risen unexpectedly around her as she stood on a rock in midstream. The two monks note two things: (1) The young woman is attractive and (2) they have taken vows of chastity. Both wade across the running water in order to continue on their way. One stops, swoops the young woman up in his arms and carries her across the stream. The monks continue along a few miles in silence until the righteous and unsullied monk turns to his brother and berates him for touching and clearly enjoying that moment in the river with the beautiful young woman. The other monk responds, "Ah Brother, you are angry with me for picking her up and carrying her across the stream. But I put her down on the other side and you are the one still carrying her."

Don't wait. Don't wait. Don't wait. I am not a person in waiting. I am living. I am actively engaged in the task of showing up in this world as a whole person -- and, yes, that includes sexuality. I desire to truly love God's creation. I enjoy truly loving God's people. And I will truly live out of my whole self.

Why Being a Pastor Sucks

2007-08-04T16:43:00.000-04:00

(Alternately titled: Why I Can't Imagine Doing Anything Else with my Life)

The past two weeks of my internship have been rough. I want to share it all with you, my dear readers, but I also value the confidence of my parishoners so, of course, all names and situations here alluded to are generalized examples and not real life cases.

Two weeks ago was VBS and I so enjoyed the kids running around the church, running into my office to snitch candy, running down the hall to "spy" on Pastor Meg. It was a secret agent themed VBS and so I was "Agent Meg," except for some of the kids from our church kept blowing my cover saying, "You're not agent Meg, you're PASTOR Meg!" Yup, that's right. You got me, kid.

At the same time, with the backdrop of pattering footsteps and giggles, I was also dealing on the phone with, let's say, a marriage in crisis. How does a mere mortal human heart hold it all? As a pastor, you don't get turn around time. You don't get a chance to switch gears. The result is a sprained heart and dislocated brain.

I know that chaplaincy carries its own burdens but, in a way, I'm jealous. Working in a hospital predisposes you to expect human suffering, death and misery. Anything other than that is a tiny break in the clouds through which sunshine descends. Parish pastors live in the gap.

We sit with people in shock over the doctor's phone call.
We rejoice in the hospital over the birth of a newborn baby.
We weep with the couple who would love nothing more than to hold a newborn baby of their own in their arms.
We instruct teenagers in the faith of their families.
We grieve and we must act when we hear stories of abuse in aforementioned "faithful families."
We talk openly about the perils of marriage to a wide-eyed smoochie-faced couple.
We wonder if the couple on the phone ever imagined it would be them while they were sitting in a pastor's office years ago.

Pastors are called to the highest highs of human existance. We are also called to the lowest lows of human experience. And the big secret we carry is this: we don't have any answers. We don't know why some people get cancer and others don't. We don't know why some people get pregnant on accident while others can't get pregnant no matter what they try. We don't know how to have faith in the valley of the shadow of death, either. We don't know and we don't know and we don't know.

The strange comfort I've found as a rookie pastor drawn into these moments is that 20 years of ministry under my belt wouldn't change the fact that I don't know. And, at the end of the day, I firmly believe that people don't need their pastor to know. They just need their pastor to show up. They need the voice of God to somehow show up. And it is the most absurd, most arrogant, most humbling realization that I'm called to be a witness to God's presence in moments like these.

I have prayed more than I ever have before in my 28-years-of-living. I've wanted to cry more than I let myself. I had my very first sobbing, ugly cry drive home from work last night. The fact that the sobbing, ugly cry drive home from work is a necessary part of the calling is why it suck to be a pastor. It is also why I can't imagine doing anything else with my life.

Thoughts On Preaching

2007-07-15T17:54:00.000-04:00

Sometimes its easier than other times. Mostly, that sums it up.

More thoughts:

Here are some things I jotted down in my journal recently:

"Well, despite my doubt, God showed up this morning. People actually heard the Word of God proclaimed. I'm actually rather asounded by it. It feels a bit like an out-of-body experience. I show up. I present the sermon I wrote earlier in the week. But doing it feels like I'm doing my own thing on one side of this mammoth, gapping canyon. Then these echoes come back at me from the other side of the divide and I'm thinking to myself, 'Wait. You heard all that way over there? How did that happen?' And the answer is, of course, that God shows up. How crazy is that?
Naturally, all through the week I've been begging God to show up, very nearly bribing or threatening, saying things like: 'If you don't do something here, I'm going to look very silly on Sunday and then you aren't going to look that great either.' Even though I know I'm meant to trust that God is going to bail me out, still everytime a divine fingerprint is found, I freak out like a kid in a candy store. Last week what I took away from the preaching experience was how the Holy Spirit so clearly showed up as I encountered the text in the sermon writing process. This week was more tense because I didn't feel the same excitement and guidance in the writing process. So when God showed up this morning it was even more astounding. Already my wheels are turning about next Sunday's sermon. What an exciting job I get to do!"

So that was a couple of weeks ago. Last week I preached on the lament psalms. I'm thinking that the lectionary ought to put degree of difficulty points next to the texts so that I don't keep overreaching my beginner status. I freaked out a bit in the writing simply because I'm more intimately acquainted with the lives of my parishoners this summer than ever before and I realize the gravity of speaking a theology of suffering too easily. I got through it but writing was a huge emotional vacuum last week.

This week, I woke up on Thursday to write my AM sermon and nothing hooked me in. Instead I got all excited about my PM sermon and pounded that out. I continued to struggle with my AM sermon, even until this morning. The Holy Spirit certainly showed up over and over again in my ministry this week but mostly through the coffees, visits and conversations I was privy to. I kept approaching the text (Psalm 30) with the stories of thanksgiving, deliverance and testimony that I had heard all week in mind. THAT's what I wanted to preach but confidentiality being a crucial part of the job and all. . .

Here was my compromise: Psalm 30 is about giving testimony to God's work in our lives. At the end of my sermon I pulled up a stool (uh-oh watch out! A Rob-Bellion is on the way) and said:

Now, I could stand up here and proclaim until I’m blue in the face that God is good. That God is faithful. That God is loving. And, in some sense, that is what you pay me to do. But what if I, instead, told you my story of where God has showed up this week. I’ve been at this church for six weeks now. What a wonderful welcome I have received and what a wonderfully steep learning curve for a rookie pastor in your midst. I’m learning that, being a pastor (and, in some sense, being a Christian) means being invited into other people’s lives and stories. I have been ushered into a front row seat to the show of God at work in your lives. And sometimes, this God of ours can be quite a show-off! Even in the painful and anxious moments of your lives, I am overwhelmed again and again by the fact that God is truly alive and kicking in this church. Having coffees and meals and random stops by the office have made me realize that we are a church filled with seasoned saints, scrappers, and survivors!

Not only is this local congregation full of stories that need telling about God’s goodness and faithfulness. We participate in a church that is thousands of years old. When we read the psalms, we hear the voices of those who have gone before us. When we stand to recite the Creeds, we realize that our stories, whatever they may be, mix and mingle in together with Divine story that God has been piecing together since “In the beginning” until “Amen, come Lord Jesus.” When we place ourselves in the shadow of all those who have gone before, we confess that these ancient words are not only dusty relics of a time long past. But, in fact, THIS too is our story and THIS too is our song. Would you stand with me and speak these ancient and living words of faith together.

And so we recited the Apostle's Creed and went right into "Blessed Assurance" at the refrain: "This is my story. This is my song. Praising my Savior all the day long."

This morning God showed up, for me, in all of the worship surrounding the sermon. I'm grateful that pastors don't go it alone, that's for sure.

A Friday Random Five On Sunday

2007-07-08T15:41:00.000-04:00

How random is that?

Folks, I've been away from my computer for a few days. It's Stampede time here in Calgary and, with the help of dear-seminary-friend-Brian, I took a few days to take in the sites (or it is sights? I think it might be sights. But there's good reason for thinking either one, I reckon.) The Stampede was glorious fun the rodeo kicked cowboy booty! I loved all the horses and the mini-chuckwagon races, and all of the "fried goo" they had on sale for eatin'. The blacksmithing competition was slow-paced, I'll give you that, but interesante nonetheless. So enough about all that, here's my Random 5

Today, what are you:

1. Wearing: my standard preaching uniform. Grey trousers, black short-sleeve cardigan I've traded with my suit jacket for the evening service, and sleeveless denim shirt as tribute to Calgary's week of wild west!

2. Reading: Dorothy Sayers' Letters to a Diminished Church

3. Eating: Nothing all morning until the am service is over. Now, a little deli-bought mac&cheese. Nothing like comfort food to sustain me through round II.

4. Doing: catching up on e-mail and blog-writing. Preparing to prepare for this evening's service.

5. Pondering: oh-so-many-things!
a) if I have enough research on Jonah 3 to reasonably fill 20 minutes of congregant's time.
b) what to do with my day off (5 hours from now)
c) how much better life will be once she downloads Sinead O'Connor's new album. She's singing the Psalter, people!
d) whether the church hates me now that I've preached on lament and taken pot-shots at some sacred cows.
e) when I'll get to sleep again next (darn you Mac&Cheese!)

Is it so wrong?

2007-06-28T16:47:00.001-04:00

Is it so wrong that, whenever I think the Hebrew word for praise (hallal), I automatically think of Gwen Stefani singing "I Ain't No Hollaback Girl?"

I suppose most of the trouble is that I AM a Hallelback girl!

Hallel atcha!

Hallel!

Friday Random 5

2007-06-22T13:20:00.000-04:00

This is my first RevGalBlogPals Friday Random 5. What a wonderful way to not be writing a sermon, is what I say!

Here goes:
1. Favorite summer food(s) and beverage(s) Yesterday after finishing my am sermon, I walked two blocks to the Seven-11 and got a great, big, giant Slurpee. They had Dr. Pepper flavor. It was alright but I think I'll stick with good, old-fashioned Coke flavor in the future. That was a glorious summer-y moment for me.

2. Song that "says" summer to you. (Need not be about summer explicitly.) I'm having an auditory love affair with songs about roadtrips this summer. It might have something to do with the 4,000 miles my car will add to its odometer this summer, getting to Calgary and back. I especially enjoy The Bastard Sons of Johnny Cash's "Monte Carlo Chevrolet."

3. A childhood summer memory I remember summers when my family would come back to the States to visit family. Long hours in the car, listening to my mom read out loud - Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, was it? - and playing the license plate game. We are cut-throat license plate gamers.

4. An adult summer memory The summer before I started college (does this count as an adult memory?) I lived with family friends in the small town where my college was located. Each afternoon, I would sit on their front stoop and marvel that there were no fences, abject poverty and kids rode their bikes freely through the neighborhood. I think I did a lifetime of normal, midwestern growing-up on that front stoop that summer.

5. Describe a wonderful summer day you'd like to have in the near future. (weather, location, activities) Being so close to the Canadian Rockies is such a tease! In two weeks, I plan on driving an hour west again and doing some more hiking.

Optional: Does your place of worship do anything differently in the summer? (Fewer services, casual dress, etc.) They have me there, preaching and everything.

8 Random (Calgarian) Things

2007-06-19T11:41:00.001-04:00

I was tagged in this meme, so here goes. But first, the rules:

1. I have to post these rules before I give you the facts.
2. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
5. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

1. I drive West to get to the church in the mornings, which means there is a certain ridge over which the Canadian Rockies come into view. I can tell what kind of day its going to be by what kind of conversation we have.

2. I have discovered, to no surprise of the Canadians out there, that I LOVE Tim Hortons. Love it!

3. My wallet is heavier this summer, not because I am any richer but because of all those loonies and toonies. I made correct change for the cashier at the grocery store yesterday. Am practically a native now.

4. Drivers are way nicer in Calgary than back home. I feel like a real jerk and have nearly killed some pedestrians.

5. People are way more active out here. There are bike paths all over the place. It actually makes me want to get off my can and go running. I haven't felt that way in a while.

6. Churches are way more casual out West. I can roll with that but, at the same time, I miss my Anglo-Catholic ritual. What do you think they'd do if I processed into church with incense and one of those holy water sprinklers?

7. Taco Bell in Canada is not the same thing as in the States. You get fries as a side order. What's up with that?

8. Two weeks down, nine to go. The suspicion is growing on me that I am, in fact, called to this vocation.

I tag Erica (when she gets back from her trip) and Heidi and Nicole and Rachel and Susan and Rebecca, Canticles and Lorraine.

A Book Report

2007-06-17T18:59:00.000-04:00

(Alternatively titled: Why I Love Barbara Brown Taylor)

Two weeks into the gig and I'm discovering that, because I don't know anyone in Calgary but my congregants and because I don't want to spend every waking moment of my life at church events, I have taken to reading. I mean like for fun. Weird, huh?

Last night, after the evening sermon was written up, I took my book on a walk about 10 blocks to a local coffee shop (I actually passed two other caffeination stations, but I wanted the longer walk. Must try the others at a later time.) There I finished Barbara Brown Taylor's book Leaving Church. Its a strange book to read, perhaps, as I am Entering Church but we are much the same, BBT and I. If I can glean some wisdom NOW instead of after the burn-out, I'm just thinking that would be a good thing.

From the first chapter, when she writes, "I was engaged in work so meaningful that there was no place to stop. . .I had been blessed with work so purposeful that taking time off from it felt like a betrayal of divine trust."

From the final chapter where she resolves, "I thought that being faithful was about becoming someone other than who I was, in other words, and it was not until this project failed that I began to wonder if my human wholeness might be more useful to God than my exhausting goodness. . .At least one of the things that almost killed me was becoming a professional holy person. I am not sure that the dealiness was in the job as much as it was in the way I did it, but I now have higher regard than ever for clergy who are able to wear their mantles without mistaking the fabric of it for their own skin. . .One day each week I live as if all my work were done. I live as if the kingdom has come, and when i do the kingdom comes, for one day at least. . .Sabbath is no longer a good idea or even a spiritual discipline fo me. It is my regular date with the Divine Presence that enlivens both body and soul."

I was hooked. Her thirst for God thwarted by her own panting after the approval of church folks, complicated by driving forces inside of her that remained illusive to name. Yup. Sad to say it, but I see myself in that description. Of course comfort might be that I am only just now starting the journey. Already I know, at least some of the pitfalls awaiting me.

Theologically, however, understanding BBT is like nailing Jell-O to a tree. She talks about a center of the faith, the comfort zone where everyone says the same thing, in the same accent, without ever questioning or doubting the veracity of their unified voice. A religious borg, perhaps. She also says Christianity has edges to it. Places where people camp out in the wilderness, rejected by the overwhelming sure-footedness of the center-folk. Places where people doubt and ask impertinent questions. BBT definately sees herself as an edge-person instead of a center-folk. In some ways, I'm apt to agree. I think we do a disservice to many true-to-Nicene-Creed Christians when we view our creeds and confessions as a center spotlight instead of a wide fence, in which there is still plenty of room for doubt, impertinent questions and momentary lapses into the unorthodox. Hanging around the fence is where the parties are at and maybe the neighbors aren't as bad as we'd once thought. I get all that. I'm challenged by those ideas. On the other hand, as Christians, our property lines are not unmarked. One person's land doesn't simply bleed into the next. There are good conversations to be had over the fence. Maybe its even a low picket, not a barbed wire fence. Maybe there are gates in the fence. Maybe my analogy is running too far. But we are not a fenceless people. That's all I'm trying to say.

Did anyone else read the book? Can anyone else shed light on this conversation for me?

What in the name of all that is Synodical?

2007-06-13T13:37:00.000-04:00

Last night I watched Synod's deliberations over article 3a (i.e. What ARE we going to do with those pesky lady preachers?) on webcast. I've never been to Synod before so I don't know how it compares to earlier years. Everyone wanted to weigh in on the issue and some managed to do so more tactfully than others. I'm still smarting over some of the comments but I'm also rejoicing over the many men who spoke on behalf of women such as myself who could not, as of last night, speak for themselves.

So first, the good news: The committee assigned to study this issue provided both a minority and a majority report. Both reports advocated for the deletion of the word "male" from the church order so that CRCNA polity will now read: "All confessing members of the church who meet the biblical requirements are eligible for the offices of minister, elder, deacon and ministry associate." This means that churches no longer have to wait for the green light from their classis but can ordain anyone God has called to these ministry positions. This is a HUGE step and definately cause for rejoicing. Of course, there are still many churches out there who, as one delegate put it, believe that, in order to meet the biblical requirement, one must be male.

Second, on the good news front: Classis may deligate any of their classical delegates as representatives at Synod. This means that women delegates will, most likely, be seated at next year's Synod. Again, a HUGE cause for rejoicing.

Now for the unpleasant caveat provided by the minority report: "Classes may, in keeping with their understanding of the biblical position on the role of women in ecclesaistical office, declare that women officebeareres (ministers, elders, deacons) may not be delegatd to classis." What does that mean? In concrete terms, it means that the women who are serving my summer assignment church, located in a Classis overwhelmingly opposed to women in office, will not be allowed to represent their church at local classis meetings and, therefore, may not be delegated to Synod.

Two weeks ago, I would have been overjoyed at the positive steps taken in favor of women in office at Synod 2007. The door has been cracked open just a little wider. That is laudable. However, last night, I had to look in the face of qualified, gifted and called women of God and tell them that, despite their congregation's support, despite the widening of the doorway, in order to "leave room" for those who oppose their service, they still have the door slammed shut in their faces. They are still not allowed to serve in regional or national leadership.

Overall, I am encouraged. We are moving in a direction that honors God's call on the lives of men and women alike. I am just eager for the day when this denomination is willing to make honest women out of all of us, no if, and, or but about it.

For more information, read this and this.

A Bitter Pill

2007-06-12T19:28:00.000-04:00

Here I sit in my church office after reviewing the DVDs of my Sunday sermons and laying out my preaching schedule for the remainder of the summer while listening and watching the webcast of my denomination's Synodical meeting as they debate the validity of my presence in pastoral ministry, or at least whether I'll ever be allowed to sit on the floor at Synod someday.

Can't tell you it doesn't hurt.

The Most Important Thing

2007-06-09T17:54:00.000-04:00

I've been in Calgary for a week now. I'm enjoying it here. There is so much more than that to say but, for now, I shall leave it at that. I'm enjoying it here.

Tomorrow is my first Sunday preaching twice and then, on Monday, I'm hightailing it to the mountains all day. I have been at the church everyday this week because I'm still trying to figure out what a pastor's schedule SHOULD look like. Rest assured, I realize that being at church everyday isn't, in fact, the world's best pastor's schedule. I'll let y'all know how I sort things out.

Being here a week, I'm beginning to realize that, if my internship accomplishes nothing else, I'm glad to be here for the kids. Connecting with them is easier in some ways. While everyone has been perfectly friendly, there is a unique openness that I love about kids. I love it that there parents introduce me as "Pastor Meg." I look at them, the little girls especially, and I think to myself, "They are not going to grow up thinking that there's anything wrong with women being called by God to serve as pastors." If they are, themselves, gifted and called, they aren't going to have to shift and sort through all the Does-God-hate-lady-preachers crap that took me years to sort through. Simply being present on Sunday mornings as Pastor Meg. Keeping a steady supply of candy on my desk in my church office and remembering as many names as I can. This may be the most important thing I do all summer.

Alberta Bound!

2007-05-23T17:34:00.000-04:00

Summer is *finally* upon me. Exams were last week, I went to graduation last Saturday, cleaned up the end of year clutter from my apartment and got into a nearly-full car to drive home yesterday. I've set up camp in my parent's dining room, downloading music and sermons and organizing my life because. . .

On Sunday, I and my friend Amy are going to cram into an entirely-full car and begin the trek West for the summer. Why, you ask? Because your dear friend, Meg, is going to be serving Emmanuel CRC as a real-live, fake pastor this summer. Stop by if you're in town! With their pastor on Sabbatical, I'll be responsible for two sermons a Sunday, basic pastoral care and administrative meetings. I'm eagerly looking forward to the job. I'm excited about preaching to faces that will become increasingly familiar and dear. I'm intrigued by trying on all the rhythms and patterns of the pastoral life. Speaking of pastoral, the fact that the Canadian Rockies will only be an hour away does sweeten the pot more than a bit.

More than anything, though, I'm honored to have been invited by this church to serve in this capacity. Out of 35 available internships, only 5 were gutsy enough to extend the invitation to female seminarians. (sidebar: this is definately something that our denomination needs to work on - putting her money where her mouth is. As Nathan alluded to and, in the interest of full disclosure, more of my opinions [just what everyone wants, I'm sure] can be found here. Bottom line: You can say you are in favor of women in ministerial office. You can even write overtures to Synod and you should do these things. BUT, if your church or a neighboring church is vacant, or you need pulpit supply or an intern and you are not willing to consider a woman for the job, don't kid yourselves. You're not in favor of women in office.) So I'm eager to serve in a church that has, already, won my heart simply by living out their theology and inviting me to come.

The internship does raise some interesting questions for this blog, however. I have been lurking and snooping on the blogs of "lady preachers" for awhile. Really, anyone who keeps a blog and wants to keep their job in ministry walks a fine line. Of course, I've always delighted in walking fine lines but I want to do so in such a way that neither my ministry over the world wide web nor my ministry over the coffee table and pulpit are compromised. I'm certain that trying my hand at new things in ministry will provide much fodder for spiritual reflection. I hope that I will be able to share many of those reflections with you. But this is uncharted territory here so, please, don't hold me to anything.

But, in the meantime, I continue to sit at the dining room table, installing Libronix Bible Software on my laptop so that I'll have what I need when I get to Calgary. Also, in the meantime, I'm practicing setting up my tent in the backyard so that, as I drive West, I won't be wasting precious time in National Parks wrestling with grommets and stakes.

Please pray with me as I learn to embrace a little something we in the industry like to call "a pastoral identity." Step one: come to the place where funny things stop happening in my tummy when I think about the words "Pastor Meg."

Re-Direct

2007-05-12T10:37:00.000-04:00

Folks,

Its that time of year again when overachieving academics kick it into high gear for one final push before the end. Its also the time of year again when average fun-loving seminarians, such as yours truly, are shocked by the sudden reality that they will soon be tested on all those readings that they had previously thought were, ahem, optional. And so, as I furiously scour through class notes and skim through my readings in preparation for two exams and a paper, I offer you a re-direct.

Enjoy, if you will, the wisdom and wit of one "Susannah Constantine, Kerux Cultural Attache."

And to all those in a panting feverishness of exam week, I salute you with the faint hope that this, too, shall pass (although we may not.)

Top Ten Reasons Why Men Should Not Be Ordained

2007-05-05T19:35:00.000-04:00

Kudos to Kevin for this list.

10. A man's place is in the army.

9. For men who have children, their duties might distract them from the responsibilities of being a parent.

8. Their physical build indicates that men are more suited to tasks such as chopping down trees and wrestling mountain lions. It would be "unnatural" for them to do other forms of work.

7. Man was created before woman. It is therefore obvious that man was a prototype. Thus, they represent an experiment, rather than the crowning achievment of creation.

6. Men are too emotional to be priests or pastors. This is easily demonstrated by their conduct at football games and watching basketball tournaments.

5. Some men are handsome; they will distract women worshipers.

4. To be ordained pastor is to nurture the congregation. But this is not a traditional male role. Rather, throughout history, women have been considered to be not only more skilled than men at nurturing, but also more frequently attracted to it. This makes them the obvious choice for ordination.

3. Men are overly prone to violence. No really manly man wants to settle disputes by any means other than by fighting about it. Thus, they would be poor role models, as well as being dangerously unstable in positions of leadership.

2. Men can still be involved in church activities, even without being ordained. They can sweep paths, repair the church roof, and maybe even lead the singing on Father's Day. By confining themselves to such traditional male roles, they can still be vitally important in the life of the Church.

1. In the New Testament account, the person who betrayed Jesus was a man. Thus, his lack of faith and ensuing punishment stands as a symbol of the subordinated position that all men should take.

Moral of the story: pretty much anyone can use Scripture/common sense to come to pretty much any conclusion that they pretty much want to. (I like #2 the best)

A Thought

2007-05-01T12:10:00.000-04:00

Folks, I know that I've been absent for awhile. Life keeps keeping on but I haven't found much to inspire a lengthy blog post. In leui of my own delightful musings, I offer this, which I found written on a scrap paper in the seminary prayer room. I pray this may meet some of you where you find yourselves today.

First, there is prayer,
And, when there is prayer, there may be miracles
But, where there are not miracles, there are questions
And where there are questions, there may be silence
But silence may be more than absence.
Silence may be presence muted.
Silence may not be nothing
But something to explore, defy, accuse, engage.
And this is prayer
And where there is prayer, there may yet be miracles.

- "God on Mute" Peter Greig. Engaging the Silence

Worry Beads

2007-04-16T11:23:00.000-04:00

For devoted readers of the blog (i.e. Mom and Dad) it is pretty obvious that I picked up far more than a love for Fighting Irish football while living in South Bend, IN. Here is yet further evidence of my RCC sensibilities.

While in Honduras, I bought a rosary at the local market. It has a thin, white rope with squared-off, dark wooden beads on it. There is an old wooden cross, not a crucifix, hanging from it. I have done some research on the internet praying the rosary. Turns out, its not just for the Roman Catholics anymore. The Anglicans have their own beads, even some Methodists and Luthrans are in on it. For the past two weeks, I have taken the prescribed course of action, protestant-ed it out, and have discovered a wonderful and centering way of fascilitating my prayer life.

When I say "my prayer life," I must confess that, compared to "my studying life" or even "my Law and Order rerun life," there isn't much there. Of course, I journal religiously and I often find myself acknowledging God in the random and small moments of life but, honestly, the notion of sitting down and praying for 1/2 hour has always overwhelmed me. I always get thoroughly lost within myself: to-do lists and ancient memories. I never know how to stay on task, specifically the task of intercessory prayer. Enter the rosary or, as I like to call it, my worry beads.

"How does it work?" you ask.

As I pray, I find my hands have something to do as they worry over each squared bead. I can look down and remember my place. It is a gentle and graceful reminder, nudging my thoughts back to the place where it is engaged with God.

I start with the Cross and say The Apostle's Creed.

I move to the first bead and say The Lord's Prayer.

Then are three beads grouped together intended, as I understand it, for the Hail Marys. Instead, I use the ancient confessional prayer of the Church:
"Christ, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world, have mercy upon us." x2
"Christ the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world, grant us your peace."

I move to another solitary bead and pray: "Glory be to the Father, and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost. As it was in the beginning is now and ever shall be. World without end. Amen. Amen."

After this series, my worry beads move into 5 decades (sections of 10 beads each.) Each decade represents, for me, a different area of prayer concern and so I pray:

For the concerns of my heart, soul and life.
For my loved ones: Friends and Family.
For the church, meaning my denomination specifically as well as the Universal Church
For my nation and
For the world.

Between each decade is a single bead on which I pray again the "Glory be"s

After the decades, I close my prayers the way they were begun: Prayer of Confession, Lord's Prayer, Apostle's Creed.

For many, this kind of prayer may seem too structured, too rote. For me, I find comfort and even new insight in saying familiar words again. God is present in the prayers of God's people even, perhaps especially, in prayers that carry the heavy weight of 2,000 years worth of use. Plus, without "too structured, too rote" I find that my prayers are too scattered, too absent.

I share this, not because I have arrived but because, perhaps, others of you struggle with intercessory prayer. I want to put in a plug for the fact that church tradition has already provided a remedy. I have been delighted by the accountability of coming up with 10 specific prayers for each area of concern. At first, I found this especially difficult. I couldn't just say, "God bless everyone." Instead I was graciously reminded to ask: What does that mean? Who do I mean? Bless how? It is getting easier to be specific in my prayers, now.

Worry beads. There not just for Catholics anymore!

I'm not that kind of girl

2007-04-13T15:15:00.000-04:00

This afternoon a professor from Dordt College visited the seminary to get some interview footage from his documentary: Why the CRCNA Won't Be Celebrating Their Bi-Centennial. This project is a response to Sam Hamstra's Modest Proposal in the Banner. If you are a part of the denomination, no doubt you've been talking about this. In which case, check out your best favorite blogger's new on-line venture http://amodestrejoinder.blogspot.com and get in on the conversation.

For those of you foreign to the issues surrounding the small but sturdy Christian Reformed Church of North America, here's the Cliff Notes: Sam Hamstra wrote an article forcasting the death of our particular denomination within the next 50 years. He argues that postmodernity has effectively rendered us ineffective, that denominations are too bulky and we ought to streamline ourselves into an association of churches. Basically, this is a move toward autonomous, congregational government.

I have held my tongue on the matter for awhile but, with the seminary student center abuzz with denominational funeral plans, I'm ready to speak my piece. . .and then some.

1) First of all, here's the deal: I grew up in churches with congregationalist church government. Every church was autonomous and, while in association with other churches, was never actually accountable to anyone but themselves. The result is insulation from the Church Universal and quite a bit of self-absorbtion - "Well, if we (meaning this particular congregation) don't do it, who will?" Sam Hamstra argues that, currently, our denomination doesn't see beyond itself and thinks of itself as The Church. His solution, however, will only further splinter the universal church as each individual congregation learns to think of itself as The Church, the end all/be all of Christ's work on earth. Most of the important initiatives we have happen at the denominational level: race relations, abuse prevention, world relief, missions, etc. Without the accountability of these organizations poking their heads into local churches, any one of these very important objectives will fall to the wayside in any given congregation.

2) Speaking with people from other countries and denominations always provides an extra bit of insight. My friend, John from Kenya, was very perplexed by our talk in the computer lab. He asked, "Is there heresy in your church? Is that what you are fighting against? Like in the time of the Reformation?" We stopped. Here we are in the tradition and lineage of Martin Luther and John Calvin. Neither of them initially forcasted the death of the Roman Catholic Church. They just thought, "Hey, we need to make some changes around this place, orthodox it up a bit." We, on the other hand, forcast doom and destruction upon the denomination why? Oh, because we aren't cool enough. The Reformers sought to benefit the RCC and purge heresy from it. We, in their name, are throwing up our hands over the future of the CRCNA because we're not edgy enough and people might not always like what we have to say. Now that's just petty.

3) And, aside from being petty, I can't help feeling as though there are 40/50 year old men in this denomination telling us what "kids these days" want in a church. Well, I'm looking around and I don't hear any of my contemporaries saying the same things. Please, sirs, at the very least, don't think that you are speaking for us.

4) Here's the thing about denominations: You don't always get to do what you want. You are invested in something larger than yourself. The way I see it, its kind of like being married. You don't get to make all your own decisions anymore and you watch your words and actions reverberate profoundly into the life of at least one other individual. Oh sure, you can get out of a marriage it if you want. But its a ton of paperwork, legal fees and heartache. Maybe, sometimes, that's the only thing keeping you in the relationship. What Sam Hamstra and all the other congregationalist wanna-bes out there want from us is this: They want us to just stop being married and start shacking-up with one another, denominationally. Hey, you can be home tonight or not. Whatever. If you like the way I look and I'm giving you everything you want, stick around. If I'm asking you to sacrifice, to see things from a different point of view or just hang tight while things go through a dull patch, feel free to opt out.

I joined the CRCNA precisely because it was a denomination. I wanted to inherit a history and tradition, no matter how dicey. I still want to live out my covenant vows in this denominational marriage. But Sam Hamstra wants me to start ecclesiastically shacking-up. I'm sorry. I'm not that kind of girl.

From Honduras. . .

2007-04-11T13:04:00.000-04:00

Hello to all my faithful readers! I have arrived back to the April snow of Grand Rapids, a little tanner, a little more bug-bitten and a whole lot more in touch with that theological notion we call: the universal church.

In the span of 5 days, our team built 10 latrines in the mountain town of Consolation. One of the poorest villages in Honduras, Internatial Aid has set up a partnership between the people of Consolation and the congregation of Lagrave Ave. CRC. For those of you who know the denomination, there couldn't be a more startling contrast between good ol' Lagrave high church and the town of Consolation, with no electricity or running water. Nonetheless, two years ago the partnership began when youth group kids raised money and built stoves for many of the townspeople. In the intervening two years, the relationships once established were not forgotten. On our first afternoon in the villiage, American teenagers and Honduran school kids shyly smiled as they got reaquainted. One ingenious teenager printed off pictures from her previous trip to the village and was nearly mobbed by kids as she tried to pass them out. Knowing that these may be the only pictures these kids will ever see of their childhood brought home the seemingly endless lesson of the week about how very unevenly resources have been alotted in this world.

I grew up around third world poverty, in the sense that it was always outside the darly tinted windows of my air-conditioned car and outside the gates of my upper-class subdivision. I passed tin and cardboard shacks on my way to school every day for 7 years. Sometimes we would pass out crackers to the kids who were begging at the intersections. Sometimes we pretended we couldn't see them. All of this honest confession to say, I grew up thinking that the haves and the have-nots was not only the way of the world but also, in some karmic sense, the way the world was meant to be.

It has only been in the past 6 years or so that "Christian" has come to mean more than "really good devotional time with Jesus." "Christian" has come to mean, "Get off your ass and start loving the world, dark though it may be, and watch the light of my kingdom shine into and heal the whole broken mess of things." (And yes, sometimes the voice of God DOES speak to me that way.) I went on this trip, then, with a different set of eyes to see the socio-economic depravation of the majority and the oppulent indulgence of the few, not only a political but also as spiritual issues.

The trip was different from any I'd ever taken before in that our task wasn't to pass out tracts or facilitate mass revival meetings. We went to build latrines. Consolation is a villiage without a church and without a missionary or pastor but it is a Christian-ized town. At the opening ceremony for our arrival, the town leaders opened with prayers, translated from Spanish to English. Our group responded with gratitude and more prayers, translated from English into Spanish.

The word, which really isn't a word, that rolled around in my head all week was:
With-ness. I was talking about this idea with some of the teenagers on the trip and one said, "You mean 'witness'?" Funny how much difference a consonent makes. Witnessing is what I was taught to do - to evangelize and tell people about Jesus. Witnessing assumes a fundamental chasm between yourself (as the one with all the knowledge and insight) and them (who need converting.) And, of course, there may be a place for that kind of activity BUT, to paraphrase James, witness without with-ness is dead.

With-ness is what happens when prayers are translated into different languages to include us all (Pentacost is perhaps the most with-ness-y liturgical event of the year!)

With-ness is building a latrine alongside the hardest working 10 year old who ever lived! He put us to shame. That cement never got dried out and hardened on his watch. No Senor!

With-ness is singing praise songs at the top of your lungs, in Spanish, with a shovel in one hand, un pequinito mano in your other hand and about a dozen kids kicking up dust around you on the main road through town. (Think Latino Von Trapp.)

With-ness is meeting, mom-ing and messing around with 14 high-schoolers you've never met before in your life but, because you share the same bug-bites and sun-burn and bouncy car ride every day, become make-shift family by the time the week is up.

With-ness is praying together each night for the hurting loved ones at home and the hurting loved ones we've met during the day.

With-ness is what happens when, for even a short moment, the parallel path a priviledged North American seminary student meets with the path of a few teenagers struggling to fight their way through a jungle of lockers, gym classes and high expectations and meets again with the path of a small, overlooked villiage in Honduras.

I know that there is plenty of ministerial debate about the efficacy of short-term missions. I confess I have some of the same reservations. We worry that it's all about us instead of about helping others. But I guess I would ask: What if it needs to be about us? What if, physical poverty aside, we are the needy ones? What if we are the ones who need help in overcoming the darkness of our own narrow vision and infernal navel gazing? Can't we address physical and spiritual poverty with the same solution?

The Universal Church? It's about with-ness.

Have Passport, Will Travel.

2007-03-30T21:36:00.000-04:00

Folks,

At noon today I recieved a phone call from my friend Michael who works with a local church youth group. One of their youth leaders is experiencing a family emergency which means she needs to back out of the Spring Break Missions Trip. In 4 hours (just 13 hours after the initial phone inquiry) I will be in a van full of teenagers heading to Detroit to catch a plane down to Honduras where I'll be digging latrines in the hot, hot, Central American sun. Backbreaking labor, I know, but someone has to enjoy the tropics while winter digs in its heels and refuses to budge from West Michigan!

Please pray:
For the youth leader who could not participate in the project and her family.
That the adrenaline of my spontaneity won't die out until I'm packed and on board that plane!
That I will quickly get to know the others on the trip so that I may participate in what God has for us in Honduras this week.

As I won't be near the internet for the next several days, I pray that you may each experience a delightful, refreshing and invigorating Holy Week and Easter!

Blessings and adios!

Yet Another Re-Direct

2007-03-28T11:24:00.000-04:00

But, this time, to something I've written. With Holy Week fast approaching, as my professor said in class this morning, "you can't understand Easter Sunday if you don't hear Jesus' Friday voice."

http://www.catapultmagazine.com/holy-week

Incidentally, the professor who said that is my Psalms & Wisdom Literature. He is a great advocate of the lament. He calls it "preventative pastoral care." I'm learning loads from him and looking forward to preaching out of the psalms much more often, perhaps even this summer on internship.

Re-Direct

2007-03-20T11:42:00.000-04:00

Folks, I've been noticing that my site meter numbers are descending due, I am sure, in large part to the fact that I have been a recalcitrant blogger of late. I'm finding it difficult to manage life, other writing projects and finding witticisms to delight and amuse y'all.

Very soon, however, I hope to have exciting information to share about my plans for this summer. Please do stay tuned for that.

In the meantime, however, do yourselves a favor and bombard this wonderful woman's blog. Besides being a delightful woman of the cloth, PeaceBang is also a delightful critic of the cloth, ala Joan Rivers but kinder and more winsome. So, anyway, go visit her for awhile and leave me alone!

(just kidding, y'all know I love you.)

Preaching Stress Dreams

2007-03-12T11:27:00.000-04:00

Typically, I sleep very poorly on Saturday nights before I preach. I'm not sure whether this is something that will go away over time or is just a part of the deal. But I toss and turn, convince myself that I have managed to craft 20 minutes of one logical contradiction after another and so mentally rewrite my sermon.

This past Sunday, I picked up a preaching gig last minute (by which I mean Tuesday) from a friend. It was at a church I'd never been to and people I'd never met, both circumstances guaranteed to heighten my tension. Saturday night, I fell asleep easier than usual but then, the dream. Oh, the dream.

I got to church @ 5:30, 1/2 hour earlier per pulpit supply etiquette but there was a Youth Group event going on upstairs. I poked my head in and saw kids I'd met years ago on a SERVE project. I was socializing, hanging out with the kids, when I look at the clock and see that it is 6:30. I bolt downstairs the sanctuary, grab a lapel mike as I run past the tech booth. Luckily, they've just finished the liturgy (nevermind that I was supposed to be in charge of that, too) and charged the pulpit, vomiting forth apologies and assurances of my competence. I stand up there a moment to collect myself and survey the crowd. I look down at the pulpit and can't find a Bible. What kind of pulpit doesn't have a Bible? I scramble around, finally find one buried inside the gi-normous lectern. But its laid out all funky. All the parables from all the Gospels are grouped together and indexed. I couldn't, for the life of me, find the Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector so I said, "Let me just tell you the story. . ." The congregation, well, rather the imposing, white-haired men of the congregation said, "No, no, you have to read the text." I looked for another 3 minutes, finally found an apocryphal version of the same text, read it and the congregation sang the doxology. I thought that was an interesting way to respond to the reading of God's Word. I stood, waited for them to finish, cleared my throat to finally begin my sermon when the same imposing, white-haired men of the congregation said, "No, you're done now. Go sit in the back of the church." I walked to the back of the church, eyes welling up and then stiffened up, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

I share this dream because, on Sunday night I got lost and panic-y, showing up 5 minutes before the service was supposed to start and channeled my adrenaline into putting the congregation through its paces in 40 minutes - hey, it could have been worse.

Anyone else have an interesting preaching stress dream (or reality) to share?

So Much for the Incarnation

2007-03-03T10:20:00.000-05:00

Folks, I recieved this via e-mail and thought it contained all the wit and wisdom I'd wish to bring to James Cameron's latest feat. Of course it makes perfect sense that the God who was born in a manger to a teenager from the silly little town of Nazareth and grew to be a blue collar working man and, then, a prophet of all prophets only to alledgedly die on the outskirts of town on a ramshackle wooden cross would choose, for his next move, to reveal his bones (replete with non-messianic DNA) to none other than James Cameron. Looks like its time for Meg to pack her bags, quit seminary, get a retail job and start researching other religions that haven't been, ahem, disproved by a multi-Oscar winning savant of ancient near-eastern archeology.

Anyway, without further ado, this is what Canadian broadcaster, Rex Murphy has to say on the subject.

So much for the incarnation

Feb. 27, 2007

Hollywood is an inverted religion.

Like most, I watched bits and pieces of that great orgy of idolatry and self-worship, the Academy Awards.

What we call superstars are the gods and goddesses of our decadent time. Their church, fame, luxury, and immense, obscene wealth.

Al Gore was called in as the pastor of a more austere calling, environmentalism. "An Inconvenient Truth" was given an Oscar to show that Hollywood can take a spell from narcissism and ally itself with something a little more substantial than surgically crafted cleavage and insane self-obsession.

Al Gore is Hollywood's carbon pope.

We may not need popes much longer. The awards were barely over when one of the titans of big film, no less than James Cameron, he of the bloated budgets and blockbusters "Terminator" and "Titanic," two milestones in the history of Western Art, announces that he's about to release a documentary that will expose the last 2,000 years of Christianity as a feeble sham, explode the central mystery of the Christian faith, the resurrection, and while he's at it, prove even beyond the diligence of Dan Brown — book sales be upon him — that Jesus Christ was married to Mary Magdalene, died a natural death, and was buried with Mary to boot.

So much for the incarnation.

James, you see, has gone to an oldish story.

There's this tomb, see. Cue Angelina Jolie. And having watched enough "CSI" to bring himself up to speed, has gone all David Caruso on the bones, done the DNA, and, hey, presto, the central faith of the Western World, 2,000 years of belief and scholarship beyond even the reach of Céline Dion has, may I say it, hit an iceberg.

The world is wrong. Hollywood producer, archaeologist, Academy Award winner, king of the world James Cameron has unlocked the greatest mystery in the history of the world. Better than Geraldo at Al Capone's vault.

I expect the Vatican to apologize and close its doors within a week.

Haul down Notre Dame, board up Westminster, give over all the cathedrals and churches to Starbucks.

It was all a scam. If what Jim has on film is true — and he's a formidable ecclesiologist — Christianity is for dupes.

I have one or two minor questions... Do you think we'll see any documentaries of like attempt and equal impertinence from James Cameron on Muhammad or Islam?

To ask the question is to answer it. Hollywood is only daring with Christianity, and why does Hollywood, which worships only itself and money, feel so blithely free to mock, degrade, toy with, and abuse the sacred story of billions of people and offer to Gospels no more respect than they would the script for "Showgirls?"

Probably the answer to that question is that the minds which produced "Showgirls" are so radically vulgar and stimulated at core only by greed and the lust for cheap fame. That frame of mind will prostitute anything... the life of Christ, other people's religion for a stale press conference and a fresh buck.

It's that simple. It also explains Al Gore's Oscar. Having toppled one messiah, Hollywood wanted a more pliable one in the wings. For "The National," I'm Rex Murphy.

Addendum to the Problem of Evil - Solved!

2007-02-27T08:48:00.000-05:00

I was going to write some more thoughts on this topic - thoughts that were pastoral and gracious without sugar-coating the reality of pain. However, I think you would be much better served to read this, which I found by way of Erica's blog. The preacher of this sermon says so many things I wish I would have said but didn't have the vocabulary, life experience and plain ol' common sense to say. Read it and enjoy!

12 Attributes of the Perfect Pastor

2007-02-26T17:26:00.000-05:00

This past Sunday I was visiting my home church, currently without a Senior, Preaching/Teaching Pastor. They have an interim who is trained to walk congregations through this time, as well as re-evaluate who they are as a congregation and what they are looking for in a pastor. Sitting in on an open Forum, we were given this survey to fill out. I thought it might be of interest to all you pastoral/church nerd types out there.

Instructions: choose no more than 12 attributes/job descriptions that you believe are essential in a pastor. Put your answers and any reactions to the exercise in the comments box and, in a week, I’ll put mine down too.

A pastor should:

1) be an effective preacher/speaker

2) continue to develop his/her theological and biblical skills

3) help people develop their spiritual life

4) help people work together in solving problems

5) be effective in planning and leading worship

6) have a sense of the direction of his/her ministry

7) regularly encourage people to participate in denominational activities and programs

8) help people understand and act upon issues of social justice

9) be a helpful counselor

10) minister effectively to people in crisis situations

11) make pastoral calls on people in hospitals and nursing homes and those confined to their homes

12) make pastoral calls on members not confined to a home or in a hospital

13) be a good leader

14) be effective in working with children

15) build a sense of fellowship among the people with whom he/she works

16) help people develop their leadership abilities

17) be an effective administrator

18) be effective with committees and officers

19) be an effective teacher

20) have a strong commitment to the educational ministry of the church

21) be effective in working with adults

22) inspire a sense of confidence

23) work regularly at bringing new members into the church

24) regularly encourage support of the denomination’s missions and outreach

25) reach out to inactive members

26) work regularly in the development of stewardship growth

27) be active in ecumenical relationships and encourage the church to participate

28) be a person who cultivates a close, devotional relationship with God.

29) write clearly and well

30) work well on a team

31) be effective in working with youth

32) organize people for community action

33) be skilled in planning and leading programs

34) plan and lead well-organized meetings

35) encourage people to relate their faith to their daily lives

36) be accepting of people with divergent backgrounds and traditions

37) encourage others to assume and carry out leadership

38) be mature and emotionally secure

39) have a strong commitment and loyalty to the church’s denomination

40) maintain confidentiality

41) be a compassionate and caring person, sensitive to others’ needs

42) deal effectively with conflict.

Now remember, just 12. Your ideal pastor can only possess 12 of these attributes, once you’ve picked them, you can’t hold him/her to any but the 12 listed here! I’m curious to see what y’all will come up with!

The Problem of Evil - Solved!

2007-02-19T09:31:00.000-05:00

(okay, not really. Perhaps better to claim: the problem of evil - less problematic, still unsolved.)

As a result of my Help Wanted ad, I’ve had a series of great conversations with Earthbound Spirit, a Unitarian Universalist women who is attending another seminary not far from here. She has blogged about some of our dialogue and you can find it here and here. One of her most recent concerns has been about the problem of evil. She writes,

"But -- as one of my professors asked -- what about the spiders in the web? What about the terrible destruction wreaked by typhoons, tornadoes, and ice storms? What about poisonous plants and animals? What, dear heaven, about the pesky mosquito?! Or kudzu? Do these suggest a transcendent deity?"

The problem of evil in the world is a pastoral and an apologetics problem, indeed. Following is an answer I wrote for my apologetics mid-term, precisely in response to an anonymous attack on Christianity based on the problem of evil. This is an apologetic (read: philosophical not necessarily pastoral) response to the concern in general but not necessarily to Earthbound Spirit in particular.

To begin, if I invited you over for dinner and served you a plate of food, which you examined, sniffed and pushed around the plate only to pronounce, “Looks like the noodles are overcooked, there’s mushrooms (which I despise) in the sauce, the salad is wilted and your garlic bread needs more garlic,” the very existence of your complaint presupposes the point that there is, in fact, food in front of you. Regardless of your enjoyment of the meal, the fact is that I have made one.

To me, this is the nature of the “problem of evil” argument. It complains (and, indeed, rightly so) about what’s on your plate without recognizing the goodness of the very meal. To elaborate, I agree that the world is a mixed bag. It is a self-evident argument that there is both good and bad in the world. The question is: which one – good or bad – is primary? Going back to the dinner analogy, it would be impossible to argue the nastiness of the food if there was not food to begin with. So, too, evil is a parasite upon the good.

Now, we’ll get to the evil in a minute but first let’s deal with the good. If there is moral, aesthetic, epistemological and pleasurable good in the world, it stands to reason that it came from a moral, beautiful, rational and pleasurable necessity. That which exists must come from something with like or superior attributes. If you agree that there is moral, aesthetic, epistemological and pleasurable order in the world (albeit not in the proportions you might like) then it is cogent to believe that a Divine Being, much like the one testified to in Christian Scripture, exists and provides the good in the world.

Now back to the problem of evil, which seems to have no apparent rhyme or reason. This, then, is an epistemological difficulty. Because we cannot perceive the good, does it necessarily follow that such a good cannot exist? Maybe we just haven’t thought hard enough yet. Maybe, as the Bible suggests, the ways of the Creator of goodness cannot be fully comprehended by the creation because of an incurable flaw on our part (more on this later.) At any rate, our failure to understand the rhyme or reason does not mean there is none. Just because you can’t understand why I would put mushrooms in my sauce does not mean that I had no reason for
doing so.

Finally, then, we must ask the question: can we figure out the cause of evil from their effects? Such an assumption requires one cause and one effect without possibility either of multiple causation or differing effects. The Christian story allows for humans as active and, at least, limited agents. Couldn’t such agency cause evil? If I let my 8-year-old make the noodles because I saw the greater good of teaching him to cook, wouldn’t that be an example of multiple agency? You could blame me for the mushy noodles but, as a parent, I am working out a greater scheme, which allows someone else to work alongside me and I am willing even to allow their failure. In such a case, I would be a good parent, just as God is a good Creator, by not interfering with the agency I’ve facilitated.

Finally, there may be a soul-building component in place when you are seated in front of a plate full of disagreeable food. You may learn to change your tastes so that they are satiated by less garlic-y food (and this may be a blessing to many around you as well!) You may also get up from the table and begin a campaign against the injustice of wilted salad. The world, not only your character, will then benefit as a result.

You may not see the greater good but there is at least a possibility that there is one. In which case, dismissing belief in a good God on grounds of the existence of evil is no longer airtight. However, my argument for the goodness of God is still logically coherent.

Conscientious Objector

2007-02-06T21:46:00.000-05:00

So, this afternoon instead of writing papers, this may shock some of you, I watched the news. Now, this is guaranteed to shock most every one of you: I was watching FOX NEWS. What captured my attention was a story about Lt. Ehren Watada. Of course, being that it was Fox News and being that Ann Coulter *shudder* was on, you can bet they were ripping this fine soldier to shreds. Coulter darkly prophecied that Watada is going to become an icon for the wacky, liberal left.

For those of you who don't know the story, here's the gist: Lt. Watada has served the Army since graduating college in 2003. Every report of his conduct as an officer and his ability as a leader has been exemplary. Upon discovering that his battalion was to be stationed in Iraq, Watada began to research the war in earnest. Shockingly (please read this with dripping sarcasm) he discovered that the war in Iraq was an illegitimate engagement. To put a theological term to it (although, to my knowledge, Watada has not) the war in Iraq is not a just war. Watada sought to be assigned in Afghanistan instead but was denied this request. He is now facing a court martial and up to four years in prison as a result of his conscientious objector status.

Now, why, when I so rarely delve into the political, is this interesting to me? Because Watada is actively engaging in the struggle that the 2006 Synod of the Christian Reformed Church's Committee on War and Peace intellectually recognized last summer. The CRC is a tradition which allows for pacifism but has tended to align themselves with just war theory. In their documentation from last summer's synod, they recommended that the denomination:

"seek a means by which Christians serving in the U.S. military could lawfully be recognized as conscientious objectors to a particular conflict. Current U.S. laws on conscientious objection recognize only members of historically pacifist churches that object to participation in any conflict."

The way the American military works now, you have two choices:
1) An individual can claim a pacifist stance, meaning that no military engagement is ever justified according to their conscience. The Amish and Mennonites are perfect examples of this stance and many Mennonites have, as a result, taken on support positions in times of war, positions that allow them to sustain life rather than take it. These people are considered conscientious objectors and they can and must, therefore, opt out of all military service. OR
2) You can join the military and abdicate every personal, moral or religious conviction against the legitimacy of a particular conflict, submitting to enter into any engagement to which you are sent. In a sense, people who opt for #2, allow the military to dictate their conscience from the moment they graduate boot camp until they are discharged from military service.

Perhaps now, you see the dilemma, for those, like myself, who take the tradition of just war seriously. We recognize that there may be some wars that fall within the Christian rubric of legitimate engagement. In these conflicts, there is no conscientious objection to serving. Take, for example, Watada's willingness be deployed to Afghanistan. On the other hand, if one holds a just war stance with integrity, it requires him/her to review each new war through the rubric of just war theory. Sadly, most of the folks I know who claim adherence to just war theory also figure that, when it comes to the American Government, we are in safe hands and needn't think for ourselves. If God is on the side of the US against the godless Mohammedans . . . you know the thinking. But if they were to look closer, they might discover, as Watada did, that a certain deployment would shatter their integrity and moral bearings. Unfortunately, there is not, yet, a legitimate mechanism for honoring the integrity of just war theorists who conscientiously object to a particular engagement. Instead, these men and women will face a court martial and a potential jail sentence of up to 4 years.

Ann Coulter said that anyone who thinks Lt. Watada is a hero is a tool of the wacky, liberal left. Well, if that's the case, paint me blue, put me on a donkey and let me shake hands with the likes of Archbishop Desmond Tutu, who, along with other big names, support Lt. Ehren Watada's act of conscience.

Quick Update

2007-02-06T08:19:00.000-05:00

Ladies and Gentlemen from outside the West Michigan area should probably be told that we are experiencing crazy snow and ice. ALL church services were cancelled on Sunday and most schools (the seminary excluded) have been cancelled. This, of course, means that Sunday's special service has been postponed.

The service will be held February 18 again @ 3pm and @ Eastern Ave. CRC.

This is my last full week of the quarter. I have four papers due in the next week which means that all of my creative and not so creative writing capacities will be spent the service of something other than this blog. At the end of it, though, I should be able to post some of the more interesting snippets from:
A pastoral care paper on single people and the church
A paper on forgiveness, particularly focused on Dr. Volf's latest book: The End of Memory.
and
Some reflections on apologetics conversations I've been having this quarter.

That's all for now folks. Pentateuch awaits!

To My Grand Rapids Blog-Reading Constituency

2007-01-29T12:03:00.000-05:00

This Sunday, February 4th, Eastern Avenue Christian Reformed Church is holding a special service. It will be a time

"of prayer and celebration of God's call to women in the CRC. . .Through prayer and music, we will bring our gratitude for God's faithfulness during the journey to promote women in all areas of leadership, and the concerns and desires for the decisions made at Synod 2007."

I need this service badly at this juncture of my seminary career. When I look to the future, if I'm honest, I have to confess that gratitude and an overwhelming sense of God's faithfulness are not the first things that come to mind. Although, again, if I'm honest, when I look to the past, gratitude and a healing sense of God's faithfulness are much closer at hand. Nonetheless, I have, of late, been struggling with discouragement, sometimes overwhelming, when I think about the future.
What if, after its all said and done, God is faithful but God's people are not?
Couldn't that be why we are in this mess?
How is it that, for my summer internship, roughly 90% of the churches who request an intern from the seminary will not be extending that invitation to me, precisely and only because I am a woman?
In a year and a half, Lord willing, I will be graduating from this fine institution and I will be a candidate for ministry in the fine denomination known as the CRCNA. There are plenty of churches without ministers and, next year this time, my colleagues will be deluged with inquiries from churches. I, on the other hand, have been told to prepare for a "fight."
Well, what if I don't want to "fight"?
What if I'm just trying to honor God's call and live into the place where my greatest happiness meets the world's greatest need?
I'm scared of a "fight," not because I'm not feisty enough. Lord knows, that's not true. I'm scared because this isn't the way its supposed to be.

Even though the event at Eastern Ave. CRC is meant to be a service of celebration, I hope and expect that there will be moments of lament. The service is at 3pm. I will be there. Please consider coming if this is an issue that is important to you (and, I suspect, if you are reading this blog faithfully and not just to revel in the heresy that I embody, it is important to you.) Please come and, if distance is an issue, please join us, join me, in prayer:

May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through. May your whole spirit, soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. The one who calls you is faithful and he will do it. (I Thessalonians 5:23-24)

I'M PUBLISHED!!!

2007-01-27T14:46:00.000-05:00

Check out this month's Catapult Magazine

AND

this month's Perspectives: A Journal of Reformed Thought

Of course, if you have been reading this blog for the past year or so, neither of these articles will be new to you so scroll around and see some of the other writing done for these noble publications!

Look guys, your little blogger is growing up. Tears.

If Theologians Were Like the Grateful Dead. . .

2007-01-25T13:34:00.000-05:00

I would be in a VW van following this man's tour bus.

Check out the transcript of my interview with Miroslav Volf! Doesn't he just make you want to be a Christian?

D'ya Remember When. . .

2007-01-13T16:06:00.000-05:00

I was totally obsessed with understanding Pre-millenial Dispensationalism and figuring out a Reformed response to said nonsense? There was this, this and, oh yeah, this. Wow, was I longwinded. Thankfully for me and, now, for you, dear readers, I've discovered someone who can, with far fewer yet far more articulate words, explain the whole thing.

Nathan Bierma, a personal friend-of-friends-turned-friend, has written an amazing book, Bringing Heaven Down to Earth: Connecting This Life with the Next which really does give a reasoned argument against currently popular assumptions about the explosive end of the world (think Left Behind) and presents, in its stead, a winsome glimpse of life under the final Kingdom reign of Christ (think C.S. Lewis, N.T. Wright...)

Most of the people I know who were raised, like me, with charts of Daniel 7 and yearlong sermon series on the book of Revelation, have distanced themselves from all the prophecy talk. Any mention of the end of the world brings on seizing and flashbaks ala Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Most simply say, "What difference does it make, anyway? God's going to come back whenever and however God chooses, why should I even think about it." An understandable knee-jerk reaction, and yet, even as Bierma pens his title, there is this curious realization that the life we live now is, somehow, connected to the next.

So, for example, what are the implications of believing the whole thing is going to burn in a cosmic fireball while Christians waft into the sky to play harps forever? If that's your view, what kind of loyalty to the earth/steardship/ecology will flow from it? Likewise, do visions of harps really get us as excited about heaven as we ought to be?

So, if our theology leads us to answer these questions with weak reassurances and lame platitudes, then perhaps it is wise to question our theology. Perhaps there is a more robust, full-bodied theology that could lead people to value the earth, engage in creating culture and, ultimately, have a hand in "bringing heaven down to earth."

If you are, like myself, a recovering fundamentalist or are simply curious about a Reformed view of the human person and the ends for which said persons are created, I strongly urge you to pick up a copy of Nathan's book. If you aren't a scholar and theology frightens you, this book is written with you in mind! With the remaining space, I will provide some of my favorite snippets in an attempt to whet your appetites.

"How do we rediscover that the earth we inhabit and the things we make in its midst are part of a larger cosmic story, of which God pens every stroke? How can we being to sketch a basic framework that encompasses our lives, our earth and society, history and the future, and from this framework find deeper meaning." (p.7)

"(quoting from C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory) It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex, and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased." (p.22)

"Heaven will be on earth, this earth. . .heaven will have the strawberry and the mulberry, the bear and the bison. It will have these things because they are among God's greatest hits, masterpieces in which we see him, books in which we can read him, a theater in which we can watch him perform. Heaven will have these things because God looks at them, at nature, and says, 'It is good.'" (p. 50)

"Heaven will be full of culture, because culture making - properly devoted - glorifies God, and because culture is inherent to how humans experience life on the earth." (p.81)

"So seeing 'saving souls' as the core of the gospel story is too small. The other part of the small gospel - having a 'personal relationship with Jesus Christ' - has similar shortcomings. This phrase has come to be seen as a central tenet of Christianity, even though it never occurs in the Bible. Limiting ourselves to a personal relationship with God is problematic, for it focuses a Christian's attention on himself or herself. . .When the small gospel is taken to the extreme, Robert Price says, 'the strong impression is given that God sent his only begotten Son, the second Person of hte Trinity, to earth to be crucified and resurrected just so the pietist can. . .have a blissful quiet time." (p.141)

"We must recognize the gap between what the world is, and what it was created to be; lament the gap; realize that Christ's cross served to close that gap in part for now and in full eventually; anticipate this by starting to close this gap ourselves; be frustrated by our inability to do so in any decisive way; and let this lead us to long for God to close the gap for good with the comping of Heaven, the return of shalom on the new earth." (p.149)

I Believe...

2007-01-13T13:56:00.000-05:00

this

and, as a result of the terrific January Series at Calvin College, I also believe...

this.

Do yourself a HUGE favor. Brew a pot of your favorite hot beverage, schedule an hour away from the rest of the world and listen to N.T. Wright's lecture on his new book, Simply Christian. This book is already recieving acclaim as the Mere Christianity of our generation. I attended the lecture last week and, after it was finished, turned to my friend and said,

"Oh, that's what I've been spending the past 2 1/2 years on. I guess I won't mind putting a lifetime into the story, especially considering how Uncle Tom tells it."

Bonus! N.T. Wright has the most delightful, posh British accent. The way I figure it, anything is more true if its said with a post British accent. (this weakness may explain why I almost turned Anglican while living in England.)