Crazy Love

How many of you are familiar with Albert Einstein’s definition of “insanity?” Einstein defined insanity as doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results. Our first dog helped us experience this. Every day when the postal carrier would come to deliver mail, the dog would go nuts, and bark her head off, and sounded like given the chance would have attacked the person just delivering messages through the mail slot. From the dog’s perspective she was a success- every day some stranger came and tried to put stuff in our door and she barked and the person left. That’s not insanity.

Insanity was what we did. Every day we would chastise the dog for that behavior and tell her not to do it. And it never changed. You’d think that since we provided her a safe and comfortable home and good food, and she always cornered the best spot in a nice fluffy bed. You would think that she’d listen. But every day, the postal carrier would appear, and the dog had the same response. Because to our dog, “This is MY HOUSE!” And she was in charge.

Our dog was not exhibiting insanity- we were. For thinking that on a different day or with a different person the result would be different. And we could have given up on the dog but we didn’t. Because we loved the dog. And thankfully she never “got” that person who came and shoved mail through the slot in our front door.

But insanity, that act of doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result is perhaps the best way I know to describe what we see in the vineyard lessons today. Stories of wild grapes and tenants run amok, and the actions of the owner of the vineyard. (Thanks David Lose!)

The owner has labored to create a vineyard, tilling soil, planting lovingly, setting everything in order for the best and most abundantly possible harvest, and then gives the care of the vineyard over to other. In Isaiah we hear that it all goes wild from there and the temptation is tear it all down. But in the gospel, we hear about the tenants in a different way. And as far as we know in most respects they have been good tenants and have cared for the place. They’ve been given a place to live and a job to do- bring in the harvest. And presumably they’ve been given a promise that some of the harvest will be theirs as their pay, but of course the rest goes to the one who owned the land and who created the vineyard. And the harvest has come!

But now they look around and they see that harvest and they just don’t want to share. They’ve worked hard day after day for an owner who isn’t really around. They’ve put themselves into it and it doesn’t seem right that most of this goes to someone else.

So when the landowner sends servants to collect, they don’t receive grapes of joy in the harvest. Instead, to borrow the phrase from John Steinbeck, they meet with grapes of wrath. In wrath and anger those poor servants are abused or killed. Because the tenants have decided that this is MY PLACE!

Here’s where the insanity starts.

The owner could do as we would at this point, send in police or soldiers and take this by force. But instead, the owner sends more servants! Who sadly meet the same result. And that’s crazy! Why would the owner put so much at stake to risk a different result? More grapes of wrath. And frankly now the tenants are feeling the battle surge.

So then it really gets crazy, because the owner says, “I’ll send my son. They’ll listen to him. They’ll show respect, and recognize his authority, after all they have had a job and a place and are getting cared for.”

And we know how it ends. More wrath and killing.

The question isn’t really so much why did the tenants act that way- we sadly expect it. The stories in our world and our lives tell us this.

The question is, “why did the owner act that way??”

Why would anyone try to live in the framework of a relationship over and over when it is clear that it’s so one-sided?

That’s just crazy.

Today’s parable was told by Jesus to the leaders of the temple to show them who they were- those who rejected over and over the messengers of God. And while it’s a story about them and about how they would go on to reject even the Son, none of us should be under the impression we would be any different.

When so often we find in our own lives, ways we reject God’s call upon us to care for the vineyard, for those who show up in it, or to listen to God. When it is easy to respond to others not with love but with wrath. To call upon force rather than tend relationships.

Our news and our own stories tell us this is true. And in the end so much of what we’re given we are sure is OURS, because we’ve been tending it, we hardly think at all about who else might have a stake.

We can do a fine job of serving up grapes of wrath. That’s not the gospel.

Sometimes we have to work harder to see what the good news is.

The bigger and more important part of the parable however is what we know of God. It’s the story of one who lovingly arranged a place for us to live and to work and to grow, and who despite all our rejections and possessiveness, and even our violence and spite, continues to send not only messengers but to send the Son.

This side of the cross we know just how crazy this love God has for us really is. Christ on the cross is the ultimate message, that takes our wrath and made of it, our salvation.

If God responded towards any of us as we deserve, there would be wrath and destruction indeed. How unexpectedly graciously instead,

God persists over and over in a relationship with us, however one-sided, and while it is indeed the height of insanity, it is the best demonstration of crazy love we’ll ever see.

The grapes in the end are not grapes of wrath, they are grapes of mercy and forgiveness and love.

And this day again we will taste them. We’ll come because God invites us and we’ll receive the body and blood of Christ who died at our hand, but for us. So today, maybe, we’ll taste these grapes and maybe linger over it, and savor that taste that for us is the taste of love and mercy for each of us and for all of us.

And then maybe remember that of all the things we clamor to possess, or to know, the sweetest and best is God’s crazy love for us all.

 Amen.

 

** thanks to David Lose, and Sharron Blezard for the inspiration

 

 

Take Heart, You're Not the Miracle

This past Sunday I served as supply pastor for the congregation of one of my colleagues who is recovering from an accident. Her recovery has taken longer than any of us would want and it is so obvious that her people adore her as their leader. And her love for them is profound. They know it will be longer still.

I was told there would probably not be kids but about 6 showed up and so I decided we would sit together and sing "Jesus Loves Me" which when someone asked, included the sign language. I asked that the first time we sing that verse with the word "me" but the second time with the word "us."

Which means that we ended up singing- "We are weak, but he is strong."
I think that was just a little hard for us sing, but important to hear as we remember why we gather as the church and where our power and strength come from.
We heard in our lessons in the Psalm to listen to what the Lord is saying, and in Romans to remember it is not our own heroic efforts that matter. And of course, Jesus and briefly, Peter, are walking on water.

I have to confess that I would have been a horrible disciple. For one thing, I get seasick. No one in their right mind would’ve wanted me in their boat. And there were way too many boat trips for that to go well. But I think the even bigger reason why I would not have been a good disciple is that I can be impatient. Not only were there all those boat trips but in Jesus’ day, it was a very different matter. There were no motors, no GPS, no technology. They were at the mercy of the wind, and the waves and the weather. Like we hear in our gospel today.

This is actually the second boat story in Matthew. In the first, the disciples are in the boat and they hit a serious storm, and the boat is literally about to capsize, and they fear they will drown. And Jesus is asleep in the boat with them. They wake him up screaming perhaps trying to save him or maybe hoping he’ll do something. And he calms the storm. And they wonder if he could more than a great rabbi- maybe he’s the Son of God?

This time around, Jesus has just finished a major miracle in their presence, the feeding of thousands, and he has sent them on ahead of him because he wants time apart to pray. He has sent them to cross the Sea of Galilee but as we hear, the wind is against them. The waters are choppy, and it is a rough go. If you’ve ever been on a rough boat ride, you know, that trip seem to take an eternity.

They left in the evening, and now it is early morning. They’ve been up all night trying to navigate, and they’re battered and frazzled and tired. It’s been maybe close to 12 hours and they should be there by now. But they’re not. They’re still far from where they want to be. And they are NOT with their leader.

They just want to get where they’re headed but they are somewhere in between feeling kind of helpless.

Perhaps you too in the absence of your beloved pastor feel that way. She should be better by now and you should be together moving on in the journey of wherever ministry is headed.

It’s no small wonder the disciples don’t recognize Jesus when he comes, given what they’ve been through. And really, who had ever seen a human walk on water. What can this be? Jesus says, “Take heart, it’s me.” And that’s miraculous.

But if it’s a miracle, Peter leaps to the conclusion he wants to be a miracle too- command me to do that! I want to walk on water!

And Jesus, ever patient, tells him to “Come.”

But Jesus didn’t command Peter to do it first. That was Peter.

Years ago there was a book written called “If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Gotta Get Out of the Boat.” And when I was younger I loved that thought. Inspire people to get up and do something miraculous. Baloney. It can be easy to step out in faith, but a sustained faith takes more than us.

Peter steps out in faith but can’t sustain that faith by his own heroic efforts. He gets distracted- first by believing he is the miracle. And then when he blinks and realizes that while he is walking, the wind and the seas are still rough- he loses his nerve when we remembers the world around him. He takes his focus off of Jesus and that’s when he begins to sink.  

And Jesus could have let him. Jesus could have proclaimed this is Peter’s epic fail. But instead when Peter cries out, “Save me!” he reaches out his hand and puts him back in the boat. Take heart- the seas are calmed. Because I am here. And this time the disiples say- truly Jesus is the Son of God! And they’re further in their journey.

My Mom works as a hospice volunteer, and one of the things she talks about is the heart to heart hug. It’s a hug that focuses on the fact your heart and the patient’s heart touch in that hug that calms fears, and anxieties and shows love. I kind of imagine as Peter is hauled into the boat again, there is that moment where he gets a heart to heart hug to reassure him. As Jesus does what he always does- reaches out a hand- the hand that feeds, blesses, heals, saves and forgives.

I take heart that the disciples are a group that seem to have moments that they seem to grasp just who Jesus is, and then a whole bunch of moments where they clearly don’t, and then another moment where they clearly see God and then even colossal failures where they don’t. Because I think we are that way too.

But in all of those moments where we struggle to see Jesus in our midst, Jesus continues reaching out and meeting us and touching our hearts. Restoring, encouraging, saving us.

And I think as ever it’s important for us to remember that we are not the miracle. It is not up to any of us to be the miracle. Christ is the miracle in our lives. Who calls us to also remember that our focus should be upon Jesus and staying in the boat together as the church.

We don’t know the timing of the journey. And there are times we struggle to see God at work. But this gospel reminds us that the God who is powerful enough to command waves is also a God whose never ending desire is to continually reach out a hand and save us. A God who sees us through the tough times and promises there is more to the story.

May you take heart and be strengthened in hope that God will bring you to the next moments in ministry together.

 

Do You See What He's Done?

On Maundy Thursday I offer individual absolution and laying on of hands. After this I also offer corporate forgiveness in the name of Christ,  not only for those who did not come forward, but for our sins as community.
This was the message later...



Do you know what he's done? What Jesus has done? Tonight we don't hear Jesus talk about Holy Communion. It's what makes the Gospel of John different. We come here on Maundy Thursday expecting to hear "do this in remembrance of me" followed by words about bread and wine. WHAT IF...instead we were given what we hear in tonight's gospel as the way of remembering that last night with the disciples? We'd be washing feet each week. You seem underwhelmed. Or maybe overwhelmed.

We'd be told to strip away all of what gives us our status, and empty ourselves of our ideas about it all. And wash each others feet. All the dirt, and the scrapes. The wounds and literally sometimes all the crap that our feet drag around. Just as true in all the places we come from as Galilee. And cleansed, loved, and forgiven. Do you know what he's done?

And it's not just about the feet. It's about the love. Servant love. That loves our unloveliness. Servant love.

Years ago our daughters were arguing over having to clean up the mess in the room they shared and at the height of the row, I heard one of them bellow, "I AM NOT YOUR SERVANT!!" Followed by stomping down the stairs to present the offending sister in hopes I would do something about it
So often, we too want to say, if we're being honest, in the middle of people and situations we encounter, "I AM NOT YOUR SERVANT!"  and do the same.

Do you know what Jesus has done?

He has not only gotten down on his hands and knees, and entered the grittiness of our humanity, he's cleaned up the mess. And he's done it for ALL, even Judas, knowing full well what is to come.

Knowing the very real fact that evil will take up residence in Judas and lead him to be someone it's hard to imagine he'd become. And it will take up residence in Peter and lead him to speak words he swore he never would.

Henri Nouwen writes that we, "People who live close together, can be great sources of sorrow for one another. When Jesus chose the 12, he chose Judas among them. He's called a traitor, literally in the Greek, 'one who hands another over to suffering.' And the truth is that there is something of the traitor in each one of us. Because each of us hands over our fellow human beings to suffering- somehow, somewhere. Mostly without intending it, or maybe even knowing it. When we are willing to confess that often we hand over those we love ( and those we are called to love) even against our own best intentions, we will be more ready to forgive those who mostly against their will, are the causes of our pain."

Because we all muddy the water.

We are called to remember- to re-live- what Jesus has done- for you, for me, for us all. To be shaped by his servanthood and to hear again the command-love each other like this.
He summons us to come and be cleansed and then draws us into a different world
of communion and community
And it can't just be about being with the ones we like.
It's also about being with the misunderstood, the betrayer and the enemy whoever we imagine them to be.

When it's all stripped away we see who we really are- all of us.

Then... we see, just how profound it is what Jesus has done

That we can't stop God's love and forgiveness. We can't stop God's commitment in Christ
To humanity at it's stinkiest and most busted places.

Do you see what Jesus has done? What Jesus does still?
Love EVERYONE like this
Remember

It's like Play Doh- got you thinking? Reformation Sunday

Just as we sat down for the sermon, I saw two girls sitting in the back behind the glass doors. Girls from the Doves Nest. I invited them to come in, and offhandedly I said, “Come on in, you don’t have to do a thing.” Which really is kind of the point. Nothing is required of us to experience God’s grace. But that is hard to imagine.

When she was little, our daughter Alex was painting an egg in art class, laboring to get it just right, putting colors exactly where they needed to be to complete the vision she had in mind. But paint can drip unexpectedly and just as she was almost done, it happened. Some-thing dripped in the wrong place. In her mind it was life and death-all was lost. It was failure beyond fixing. Heartbroken, she smashed the egg.

That can be how we think of God. We hear in scripture of God, heartbroken, and imagine unforgiving, punishing. Instead of freeing, forgiving, renewing.

That’s what people were debating about 600 years ago when the church was teaching people they could be lost as far as God was concerned. Failure beyond fixing. Whether people would go to heaven or to hell when they died mattered because disease would wipe out entire towns and people didn’t expect to live long. Whether you could be right with God mattered. People thought they had to earn salvation, buying prayers and doing so many things- trying to keep themselves out of hell.

Along came Martin Luther who said it’s time to reform, or

re-shape our thinking.

Because the Bible does tell us we will all sin and fail, but we are all justified-put in a right relationship-with God. We are as Jesus says, “Freed.” But this doesn’t happen by our laboring to be perfect. It’s possible only by God’s promise fulfilled in the gift of grace for us in the cross of Christ. God doing for us what we cannot do for ourselves. Salvation isn’t made possible by what we do or how well we do it. It is ours because God’s grace reaches out-forgiving, reshaping and restoring.

So instead working on a perfect masterpiece, our relationship is more like playing with Play-Doh.

With Play Doh I can make anything, one shape, then another. I can add more. If I make mistakes, it can simply be restored  back to how it started. PlayDoh is forgiving that way. And lots of things are possible. That’s how God’s love is for us.

That's grace. Today we’re celebrating this history, but what about our lives today?  Well, people still hand me flyers warning me I'm going to hell, and maybe some people are worried about that, but I think we’re even more worried about what shape our church is taking, and keeping our identity.

And then I wonder if we like continual love, forgiveness and reshaping for ourselves, but lose sight of it sometimes as the church.

Life or death might be about other challenging things we’re sure cannot be.

Yet, across history God enters into these very places in our lives of faith. That is our strength to rely upon. Even in changing times that is the constant. That too is like Play Doh. No matter how many ways I try to use it, there is something that stays the same-it’s always Play Doh.

In the church, there may be many ways ministry is expressed, and people added but something stays the same. That constant isn’t our desire for “the way we’ve always done it.” It’s the love and grace and power of the cross through which God claims and redeems us all.

Today our music I hope is one way to see this diversity and strength of faith. Our opening song was Scandinavian, "built on a rock the church will stand” and we’ll end with a classic German song Luther wrote. “A Mighty Fortress is our God.” A song some of us know by heart that brings tears to our eyes. Both songs will talk about the strength of the church but there was a time Germans and Scandinavians worshipped separately.

We’ll also sing two newer songs. One from Tanzania, where the African church is growing rapidly, a song reminding us to listen because God is calling. A word for us today. During communion liturgy we’ll sing music by a Latino artist "Santo Santo Santo Santo es nuestro Dios"- Holy Holy is our God. About God’s liberation today.
Signs of God continually re-forming and re-shaping across time. No matter what language or culture or tradition, the vision is still the same. God’s church in every age strengthened and loved and being reshaped. New life and power always centered in the cross.

Sometimes that truth is scary- we want things fixed. In sin, we end up focusing on our efforts as the key. But the constant truth is our loving God meets us when we end up trapped and frees us again. And again. Today we remember again that freeing constant truth-God’s grace, the gift of faith and strength of the word that starts in our baptism-where that cross is made on our foreheads.

Baptism also is not a single moment fixed in time, but a journey for the rest of our lives. Today we celebrate as Victoria and Eddie enter and as Heather, Sean and Megan continue in this life, our life together as God’s people. Through them and us God will continue to work, bringing new life and reshaping. It’s worth celebrating! Let’s celebrate together that we’re freed, forgiven and renewed by this creative, redeeming and powerful love and continue the journey into God’s vision together.

Help Us Remember Who We Are

What if I announced we’re going stand outside and I’ll read to you all of the first five books of Scripture- Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy and THEN after about six hours, we’ll come in here and celebrate? Just like they did in Nehemiah! I don’t know why we don’t do that! But more importantly why DO we do what we do here? Minus the six hour part, what these people did is part of what shapes what we do when we gather to worship. What we do is called the liturgy, which literally means “the work of the people” in worship. If you look closely you’ll see parts of our worship there in Nehemiah. Standing for part of Scripture, getting low for confession. Our pattern of gathering, confessing, being forgiven, blessing, feasting and sending forth, has roots in what they did. And frankly our need for doing so does too. It has everything to do with the ongoing relationship between humans and God across time. But today we hear about the Israelites. They’ve come home. Back from living in exile for half a century. A time that started when they’d been not only conquered and overrun, but stripped of their land, their language, their religion and their identity. Now they come home struggling to remember who they were. Some were born never even knowing that the old stories they heard were true. “Home” was unrecognizable, and things they were counting upon lie in ruins. Their leaders began rebuilding but even when they gather for worship, enemies, exhaustion and divisions mean they’re still not sure it’s right. What if there isn’t anything to pass on? They beg to hear the words of their God- that seems so distant. We need you to help us remember who we are. We feel a little unglued. And the things we are supposed to do don’t make sense.

So Ezra reads their story to them, the story of God and the people. God creating everything to fit together, and created humans out of a desire for relationship. God freeing them from slavery for a relationship. God giving the joy of  land and security and abundance saying, “I am the Lord your God and you are my people. All of this is for you.”  Old Testament scholar Walter Brueggeman says it was the memory of God’s gifts and that relationship that was the glue that bound the people together, keeping them close to God, reliant upon God and responsive to God. But years passed and they grew careless and cynical, their prosperity caused amnesia about who they really were, what they’re expected to do and to whom they’re accountable. It ends with them carted off to Babylon. Now for them to even hear their story, it takes more than a book because many of the people didn’t get the language. The Israelites spoke Hebrew but as exiles had to learn their conquerors’ language. For some it’s the only language they ever knew. It took not only Ezra and a book but those who knew the story and could speak the languages to translate so everyone could understand what was being said and what it meant. And they did because It was that important.

Important enough that everyone- men, women, young and old, are drawn together to learn who they are and how they got to this point. Their “Amens” at the end are a collective cry of recognition of just how far they’ve strayed and just how devoted God had been. The scope of God’s devotion and laboring overpowers them, and when set alongside the scope of their sins, they weep. And they’re scared-a God that powerful might decide enough’s enough. Frankly they wouldn’t be able to blame that response. How can anyone bridge the enormous gap between who we are and who we were made to be? This is not just their confession, it’s ours.

But as surely as the law reveals our sins, it also reveals our hope. The story of a God who keeps promises, promising Abraham he’d be the father of a nation, and assuring Jacob “I am with you and will protect you wherever you go.” A God who heard the cries of the oppressed in Egypt and delivered them. A God who forgives sins and helps those whose strength is gone. This same God says DO NOT WEEP. In spite of all that’s passed, do not weep. Because THIS day you have let God’s law fill your ears and it is a holy day. There is forgiveness as this day you have drawn near to God. Your being here is the joy of the Lord! God’s joy and ours- this is what it means to be a holy day!

And being here is our strength. Because every week we leave and it’s not long before we’re in danger of falling victim to amnesia as well. We too can lose sight of God’s gifts and the glue that holds us together, how we rely upon God. And if we take seriously our lives and confession, we come back like the Israelites, confused and unglued. But we get to come back! To confess and be forgiven and freed to worship God. That’s why confession is at the beginning.

Then we hear the word, and God invites us to feast. Again this day-Body,blood,grace. Bread and wine- for you.

It’s all designed to help us remember who we are, who God is and our call to help each other grasp how this shapes who we are to be. Because it’s that important.

And It all happens here together. It needs to be together. God’s word has authority, but it cannot live only in the pages of a book. It takes the “all” of community. Our faith is strengthened by hearing God’s word and by interpreting it together. None of us is able to be the sole source of strengthening our own faith. The glory and power are not in this book or a speaker or ourselves, but in what God brings forth in the midst of us as God’s people. We need to be glued together. That’s why we’re here.

So hear God’s Word anew. No matter where you’ve been, do not weep. Let God fill your ears and hear that this is for you, this holy day. Whether you are like me and often feel unworthy of this grace, remember our response to God is to thankfully radiate the glow of our joy farther and farther out. To share with those who haven’t heard, who have no joy, who know no feast, who feel no strength. May we be lifted up in forgiveness, filled with joy and strengthened by God’s Word that exceeds our expectations, and our reasoning, and then after the feast we sing- Thank the Lord and sing His praise! Tell everyone what He has done. Let everyone who seeks the Lord rejoice and proudly bear his name. For He recalls His promises and leads his people forth in joy with shouts of thanksgiving! Hallelu-jah- Praise God!

So go forth! Help others remember who they are. As we draw together in ever larger ways, being rededicated in God’s presence. Confessing, forgiving, worshipping, feasting and sending. Again and again. Until all who can understand, do. And tears turn into joy and we remember we are a people, not scattered exiles.

May God’s word fill our ears and hearts anew, inspire our speech, make us shine forth God’s love and glory for all to see. Our reminder and our mission starts again with this day. This holy day.

 

Bringing Down the Wall

This was the week when God brought down a wall. It all started ten years ago. She had been the caregiver for his wife, and there was the constant strain and struggle as his wife's health and mind were rapidly unraveling. His family lived many hours away. Though it was hard for them to be such a distance away, to be unable to pick up and move, the caregiver began to build a grudge, that nagged at her- she felt she shouldered the load, and that she was better to his wife than anyone else. After all she cleaned her up, watched as the pureed food came right back, dealt with the many ways and times that a body failed to function as it once had. And the grudge grew.
But so did her love for the man. They shared so much together in this small and confining world. After his wife died, the man was lonely- he turned to the woman he knew now so well. The caregiver and the husband married.
Maybe it was too soon. Maybe the family was still too deep in grief, magnified by the fact they knew they could not be as present and involved in the last weeks of their mother's life. As it had gotten closer to the wife's death the grudge had grown in both directions. In fact it was now a wall.
Maybe things were said and things were done. Maybe perceptions got the best of them. Maybe there was a whole lot more emotion then that we cannot see today. But while some of the memories dissipated, the wall of the grudge still loomed large.
And the wall was well tended.
But when the marriage of the caregiver and the man happened, his family didn't come. Now the wall was fortified by allegations of bad behavior and arguments over money and property and who cared more.
And the wall became a fortress, well defended. Any effort to change the way things were was met with defensive moves and threats. Eventually the man's daughter, now older and wiser, saw that this way of living was starving out her relationship with her father.
But nothing changed until the man became ill, and the illness got worse, and more complicated. The caregiver/wife knew in her heart it was wrong to keep the man and daughter apart. But every time she thought about it, all those hurts of the past came hurtling down. She got mad all over again, for herself and for him.
The only conversation she could imagine was one that gave the chance she had never had to speak her mind and have the last word, to exact her pound of flesh and vengeance first.
But then the man became gravely ill and suddenly all that fortress living felt like isolation and solitary confinement. Now which was more important, honor or tying up loose ends?
Was forgiveness possible? She knew his daughter should see him, just in case, God forbid...
How much we want forgiveness for ourselves. How hard it is to forgive others. How much we desire that God loves us enough to forgive us, but can we see that God loves others that much too? If it was up to us, we know how the story would end. We can't love enough to forgive through the pain.
She always loved the Lord's Prayer and she knew the part about "forgive us our sins." And the second part about "as we forgive others" though she admitted that she might race through that part a little faster.
But what about those words that come next? "Lead us not into temptation"? How do we hear those words if the temptation is the temptation to not forgive, to hold that grudge, to keep building that wall and defending that fortress? And what if the thing we need forgiven for is our inability to forgive?
As we talked about this, and about God's will to be done, our prayer become one of asking God to change her heart so that she could do what God would want. By herself, she could not. With God, for God, maybe, just maybe...
She took the hard step of calling the daughter, who said she would come. It wasn't easy and in fact she did not hold her tongue like she promised, but still, it was a step.
She wanted the daughter to come to the church, but since her husband could not travel, she had to take a harder step- to invite the daughter into her home.
In the couple of days that passed, she ranted, and railed, and cried and wanted so desperately to recant the whole thing. Temptation again.
The day came and the daughter was coming after lunch. But that morning her husband fell and she could not move him. He was not injured, but was stuck on the floor. She called the church with two thoughts- help me and "this means the daughter cannot come."
We got the man up and into a chair, we prayed and said thanks for it. And instead of temptation to call the whole thing off, talked about how this made it even more important.
And the daughter came, and the man smiled the most beautiful electric smile. And they held hands. He in his recliner, and her on the floor next to him, holding hands and smiling through tears. For a moment, he was not elderly and frail and she was not middle aged. It could have been her as a little girl with her Dad. Words were not really necessary between them and the wall began to melt.
We shared communion. God's message of love, forgiveness and community. With a cross on the table in our midst.
Then the caregiver/wife/now caregiver again announced she needed to speak- she had something she needed to say. Silence. What would it be? Would the warmth of the moment end? I stroked her on the back, and said a silent prayer. She began to say that she was hurt by three events, which she listed. Silent pause. Then she drew a deep breath and said that those things were in the past and she forgave the daughter and her family. With tears and a visible combination of relief and amazement that came across her. And big chunks of the wall came crashing down. Then the daughter said thanks and acknowledged that perhaps things were misunderstood, but it was never her intention to hurt the woman and she was sorry for whatever pain there had been. More tears and relief.And the last of the rubble of the wall was cleared away.
And in the midst of the room with the cross in the middle, the work of the cross was accomplished once more. Now people could see the path between them, that they wanted and needed. While there are still potholes to repair and cleanup work to do, the way is clear for them to share what they have been missing before it is too late.
It takes more work to defend the wall, but it takes greater energy to risk believing it isn't needed. To trust in something bigger, in someone bigger.
To let go of the temptation to do otherwise.
A sacred moment happened that will stay with each of us for the rest of our lives.
I read recently a New Year's message about resolutions. The author talked about how resolutions are things we make in faith, or at least hope. He wrote that Christ's incarnation was God making a leap of faith into our world and asked if we were ready to make a leap of faith toward someone else? This is exactly what the caregiver did. Is there a wall that you are tending? A road between you and someone else that is closed off? If so, may you bring that situation to God in prayer, prayer that God might make the path clear, might give you the strength to begin to take the steps, might give you persistence for the journey, and might lead you away from the temptation to do otherwise.

Life Together-Community

This week I have been re-reading Life Together by Dietrich Bonhoeffer in as I ponder the direction of the church post-CWA. In listening, one word I have heard talked about is "unity." Bonhoeffer's first chapter, entitled "Community" opens with the 1st verse of Psalm 133, which exclaims "Behold,how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell in unity!" Bonhoeffer observes that Christians take for granted the priviledge of living among other Christians, while Christ, in whose path we profess to follow, lived in the " midst of enemies." We live, Bonhoeffer asserts, as that people scattered of whom Zechariah speaks, among others who do not believe as we do, as seed of the Kingdom of God. We live as a people scattered who are held together "solely in Jesus Christ" in the already, but not yet time.
Yet, not all of us are blessed to be in fellowship- there are those who know the absence of this fellowship- the lonely, the sick, those who are persecuted around the world. These know most keenly the blessing they live without. They see the companionship of a fellow Christian,the face of Christ and the grace of moments we sometimes take for granted. Bonhoeffer indicts the rest of us for "trodding under foot" the gift we have each day. Sometimes our sense of entitlement blinds us to what is in our midst already.
What we have can be taken from us, this fellowship can be interrupted or disrupted. How do we respond to the notion that there are limitations? Do we chafe against these limitations as being a life that is insufficient to our desires? Can we live in the grace of a moment for its own sake? Can we live in the reality of relationships that are not all we seek? Do we live in the world at the foot of the cross or the world we prefer? Do we search for an ideal world, or Christ's reality?
Can we give thanks for the present without constantly searching for that better future we have so assuredly determined should be ours?
"If we do not give thanks for that daily Christian fellowship in which we have been placed, even where there is no great experience, no discoverable riches, but much weakness, small faith and difficulty; if on the contrary, we only keep complaining to God that everything is so paltry and petty, so far from what we expected, then we hinder God from letting our fellowship grow according to the measure and riches which are there for us all in Jesus Christ."
Bonhoeffer claims that "Christian brotherhood is not an ideal which we must realize; it is rather a reality created by God in Christ in which we may participate."
It is because of this reality established by the cross that we enter community, not as demanders but as thankful recipients, as people who can go on living through sin and need under the blessing of grace- a divine gift even on the most distressing day. Even in the darkest hour of disillusionment, may we remember "neither of us can ever live by our own words and deeds, but only by that one Word and Deed that binds us- forgiveness of sins in Jesus Christ who alone is our unity.
In all of the tensions and dissatisfactions, hurt feelings and misplaced perceptions, may we start by remembering not what separates us, but what we share in common in the eyes of Christ. May we each use this view not only to support ourselves in our own hurts, but first use this view to see the other.

Laying Down the Burdens

A page to the Behavioral Health section of the EMD- an anxious, upset patient, who is not in need of inpatient care. I’m told she seems to be having a crisis involving faith-maybe the chaplain can help her. I arrive and the nurse begins explaining, “This woman came in and she’s upset and shaking and crying. She looks exhausted. She keeps saying she has committed a sin, but she says she can only talk to a saved Christian. She asked me if I am one and since I won’t answer her she tells me I can’t understand. She can only talk to a saved Christian. I tried naming all of the really big sins and she says it isn’t any of those. Who knows. She’s in there (pointing to one of the rooms). (The doctor comes out of the room, shaking his head, rolling his eyes. The nurse tells him that I am the chaplain. He speaks to me sarcastically. ) “Good luck! Maybe you’ll get farther than I did. Who knows? ! ( he saunters off irritated).” The nurse says, “She’s nice. We told her we could give her an antidepressant. She refused it. We’re discharging her, but you can talk to her here for awhile. (I knock and enter the room.)” She looks up with tear streaked face. “ I’m Carolyn, one of the chaplains here. I heard you wanted to talk to someone, May I join you?” She assents. She is crying and wrapped in a blanket, hunched over. Her hair is pulled back, but a couple defiant strands have come undone and are loose around her face. She is an African American woman in her 30’s. She looks at me with tired eyes and then puts her head down. I pull up a chair facing her and sit down. I ask “what’s going on? You seem troubled.” She puts her head in her hands.” I’ve sinned..I don’t even know where to start. “ “ Take your time. You can start anywhere.”
Her husband is in jail.. has been for a while now. In and out of jail. (she tells me his record).He’s on work release and she has to take him to work construction early and then she watches her grandkids for my daughter who works 6 to 6. Then she picks up her husband and gets him back to the prison. It is a lot to do. “ An’ I’m just tired, you know? I’m worn out an’ I just can’t do it no more.” She’s been doing this for years now. It’s been a long time and a lot to do.“ And I’m trying. An’ I went to my pastor because I needed to talk and he rebuked me! He said I was committing a sin.” ( crying) The sin? He told her she was committing the sin of selfishness. “Well, I believe, you know, that pastors speak the Word to us. They can rebuke us if a person needs it… he told me that I have to be strong for my family and for my husband. My husband has been an addict. I used to be too. He’s been doin’ OK. And I want him to stay clean. My pastor told me if I quit doing all this my husband might backslide on account of me. That if my husband backslides it will be because of my selfishness. That God will hold me accountable in the judgment.” It is up to her; if her husband backslides, it is on her. God will judge her.
“ I don’t mean any disrespect to your pastor, but it seems like you’re not sure if it really is all up to you. Does it seem right to you?” She is not sure. She tells me she knows she has been selfish in other ways and the pastor, he knows.“ Are you sure I am not keeping you from your job?” I look her in the eye and tell her this is my job. “I can stay as long as you need.” Previously she and the pastor had a tiff she thinks is connected. “See we were supposed to go to a ball game with the pastor and his wife. And they got the tickets, but then we couldn’t go and we had to pay them for the tickets. I got some money but I didn’t use it to pay him all at once I paid it over awhile. And he got mad and said I was selfish. ..I used the money for things we needed and I did get it all paid back, just not right away. But that was selfish of me, I accepted that rebuke. I think that he is holding that against me. But I don’t know. “ “ Do you really think you are being selfish? It almost sounds like you’re expected to be perfect.” She responds,“ I need to be a good Christian.”
After awhile I ask, “ You’ve told me a lot of what you are doing. How about your husband?” She shakes her head, “He’s not doin’ much.” So I wonder,“ You are trying to be a good Christian, but can you be good enough for two people?” She pauses. “ Not really.”“ How does it feel to have to work that hard? Besides tired, how else do you feel?” And the tears roll. “ Angry. !” She is angry at her husband. When I ask what she would say to him if he was here, she sits more erectly, almost bristling and proclaims, “ I’d say ,’you need to straighten up and come home and be the man you’re supposed to be!’” How was that to say that? “ It felt good. Mmhmm.”This is what she had shared with her pastor and is that when he told her about the sin of selfishness. Preaching overfunctioning as a virtue. She is just supposed to be strong. After all her pastor’s daughter is very ill and in the hospital and he still is the pastor. She sees he’s tired and needs to be forgiven. But she isn’t sure if there is forgiveness for her. So we talk about how we are all imperfect- God knows this. And I proclaim that she is in fact as loved and forgiven as the pastor, as any of us. We talk about what she can use to be strong, and she mentions prayer and trusting in the Lord. We talk about Jesus telling us about shouldering burdens. About how good it has felt for her to talk with someone and to say things and not be judged for them. To drop off some of the burdens she’s carrying. I encourage her to consider counseling- she has rejected an anti-depressant. She is in recovery and taking a pill is not a step she is willing to take. She’ll think about it. We join hands and pray-
“Lord, I thank you for M, who is trying hard to be a strong wife and mother, and provider for her family. She needs strength. She has many responsibilities Lord, and sometimes they weigh her down. May she remember that you tell us you are there to share our burdens, to lighten our loads. When she is feeling weighed down Lord, help her to turn to you. Lord, M is trying to be a faithful servant. May she know that you are right here by her side on the journey, each step of the way. Lord it is hard to admit we cannot do it all, help us to trust in you. Lord, you tell us that you love and forgive us. May M know that she is loved and forgiven by you. Lord, we pray for M’s husband and her family. Guide them in their lives that they may grow in faith, and be restored. We pray for M’s pastor and his family, that you may bring comfort and healing to them in their time of need. Lord, we pray that you will guide M and place in her path those who can help and care for her. Help her to make decisions that will help her. Lord you tell us that we can cast our cares on you, and that you will give us peace. We pray for your peace for M now. Even when we find it hard to come to you, we thank you that you hear our prayers. .. We ask all this in the name of your risen Son, Jesus Christ. Amen. We sit in silence holding hands for while and then she feels a little better and is ready to go. She hands me the blanket. I show her out, watching her walk back out in the great unknown. I will be praying for her. It was a challenge to honor her theological framework regarding accountability on the Judgment Day, and the authority accorded to the pastor. Even when I first met her, she did not ask me if I was a “saved Christian.” My mere title gave me a role. I was trying to balance offering her space to explore without denigrating her shepherd or tearing apart her framework. Even if what she was using was causing trouble, to take it away or dismiss it would leave a person with limited systems with nothing. As God’s representative with the ability to rebuke or admonish, can the pastor deny God’s forgiveness? God desires mercy not sacrifice. She should not have to be a total sacrifice to atone for another. She is in need of grace. We learn from God and from others. The yoke is not intended to increase burden. This framework of getting right with God may have helped her in recovery. She does not speak of any others who are a resource to her. Maybe faith that she is clinging to is in place of people in her life. Unless she comes back to the hospital, there is no way of knowing where the road will take her. I also wonder if she feels she still is repaying God for her earlier “sins.” And I wonder some more as I live out the prayer- placing it in God’s hands.

Forgiven, Forgotten

Today is the commemoration of the Conversion of Paul. While I often relate to the impetuous outspoken nature of Peter, I can just as easily relate to Paul. Saul, a man of strong, even zealous convictions, pursuing his own path with a slavish fervor. Literally stopped in his tracks by God, renamed and redirected. Upon his conversion, what must have gone through Paul's mind? For starters, "What have I done?!" As I contemplate the range and depth of perhaps even visceral emotion that must have occurred, it would be easy to focus on that aspect of Paul's story, and bind ourselves to it. In each of us, there are moments where we have sensed a collosal mistake. But the message instead is not so much about who Paul was, but who God IS. And so after the " what have I done" moment, I believe there must have been a moment of liberation for Paul.
But then reality comes hurtling back. Think about the followers of Jesus, and what they must have thought. There would be Paul, amidst the murmuring comments of others, the doubt of his sincerity, the anger and hurt over his past. The weight of not only his own recognition, but the response of the followers that did not wish to embrace him, trust him, see him as a fellow brother in Christ. I think about in our own congregations the divisions that can threaten to tear our community apart when we focus more on the "Saul" in someone, than the God in our midst.
"You want me to do what?"
I urge you to read the post of Eric at Heart of a Pastor where he quotes a great story from Brennan Manning's Ragamuffin Gospel. Forgiveness is more than accepting our apology, it is about forgetting our sins. For Paul, for you, for me.
How easy is it for us to grasp that unending love? To live that love? For me, it is pretty hard. But we are freed by a God who loves and forgives and forgets anyway.

Freed from the shackles may we be inspired to go out and proclaim that message of grace, mercy and forgiveness to those desperate to hear this good news we know. And to live it in our lives. And may we trust in that message of forgiveness for ourselves.
May we heed the words of the great Gerhard Forde, who in The Preached God:Proclamation in Word and Sacrament urged his listeners, newly called pastors, by bestowing the gospel message:

"Remember above all, that the promise of the Father, the power from on high is, above all, the power of forgiveness. Don’t forget to claim that also for yourself. You are not called to carry the world on your back. You are not called to be religious megalomaniacs, gurus or whatever. You are witnesses. You see, there is a real good news here for you, too. You aren’t called to do it all. Just to bear witness. God will take it from there. You will be clothed with power from on high. Speak that word of forgiveness! Preach it!"

And may we allow that message of forgiveness to trickle down into the deepest recesses of our soul. And to remember that no matter who we have been, God IS.
Enjoy this great song from Casting Crowns.

The cloud of witnesses

This week is the "official" start of classes, although for us summer Greek-ers, it feels like we have been around forever. All jesting aside, today was THE convocation to open classes. Now I know that some people find all of the hoopla a little tedious or excessive. To the contrary, I actually found this very moving. I always liked academia in the "traditional" symbolic processional milestone moments. And then of course we are in the chapel, known as the Church of the Abiding Presence. I went there to pray after the Greek final and in the solitude give thanks I was still alive. The name suits a place I find sustaining. As an aside, I love to sit in the empty church without all the lights alone with God and to envision the spirit not only of God's abiding presence, but as a history buff, to envision the saints who have gone before in this place, as an ode to the eternal and sustaining message of God's glory, and grace.
The stained glass windows are like none I have ever seen. They are actually not the usual leaded glass variety, but rather are an opaque window with engraved images of the historic figures of the Reformation, the Church and our fine seminary. I wish I had a good picture. In the Church of the Abiding Presence, the chapel of the Lutheran Theological Seminary at Gettysburg, the stained glass windows depict scenes from the Bible and Church history. The window closest to the pulpit depicts the crucifixion of Jesus. Just below the foot of the cross, and a little to the right, the first Christian martyr, St. Stephen, kneels in adoration and suffering. A little further down, and to Stephen's left, St. Francis is shown receiving in his own body the marks of the crucifixion. This window is symbolic of Lutheran recognition of St. Francis of Assisi as one who truly surrendered himself in humble submission to the shame of the cross.
Not only are we there to open the class year for our time here, we are part of an unending march of saints/sinners who, answering God's call have come here to this place and time. And while, after summer Greek I know much about some of my classmates that could fall into the TMI category, I was also glad to see people I can now begin to say I know, when I came back to campus after the brief hiatus following Greek. We are community here, in all the good and less than outstanding that any moment can encompass.
But we are also community in the larger sense within the holy catholic and apostolic church. And we are but a current manifestation of a ragtag band that goes back a really long time.
So as I watch the current and future leaders of the church amidst the backdrop of the past, and after a couple of weeks of conjuring up the core of what begins to give me new and different glimpses into belief, I cannot help but feel that the saints in the windows are a part of that great cloud of witnesses.
And during worship this week we were asked to take a moment and contemplate our family and friends who helped us and continue to help us be here; the pastors and other leaders who encouraged and taught, and all of those people throughout time who have influenced our thought and faith.
And there again was not only the memory of a beloved pastor now deceased, who I wish was here with me now, but that cloud of witnesses again, whose life and witness, successes and struggles, joys and sorrows in the faith have convened here with us now. Our motto here is " At the Crossroads of History and Hope." Not merely a trite expression as I contemplate where the Spirit may lead me during my time as a part of the community here.
And while I am terrified at the notion of preaching, wonder what I will mess up, I end this reflection with wisdom shared today by our Dean of a statement she learned in her internship, to pray that God bless what has been done for the good of God's kingdom, and forgiveness for the rest. She added that on any given day she is never really sure which may be which in God's eyes. I suspect the cloud of witnesses would concur.
Once again, I am reminded that I must surrender my notion of being in control, allow God to fill and mold me, as many have before me. And Lord, please forgive the rest, Amen.

The Importance of the word "As"

Recently I was reading another article in The Lutheran in which the writer, Bishop Mark Hanson focused upon faith practices, "Living in the Light of Jesus." Reading his article led me to my own take on the scriptures he outlined.

In the last year, our community has been rocked by three senseless murders. First, a troubled young man killed multiple members of his family, and then was apprehended on his way to another state to kill another family member. Who could make sense of this wave of violence? Another murder happened when three young men were driving around looking for someone to rob. They randomly picked a house and asked the man in his driveway if they could use his phone because they were having car trouble. For his courtesy they shot and killed him at his front door. A man who had devoted much of his life to bringing clean water to third world countries, the equivalent of life itself, slaughtered after offering help. Gut-wrenching. Finally, a young man goes to his best friend’s house and kills his friend and both of his parents in violent slashing and then goes to school crying about the loss of his friend. Evil that cannot possibly have any rational explanation that is responsible for life-altering desperation for the surviving families.

In each case, the immediate cry has been for the death penalty. These macabre events demand retribution. There must be justice. These heinous murderers do not deserve to draw breath. Forgiveness is impossible.

Yet, in the first of these three cases to work through our Court system, the family asked the Court for mercy. The young man has had a history of troubled thoughts and had seen much that had affected him. Killing the killer would not restore one life. They ask for his life to be spared. To the mind of the “eye for an eye” crowd, this is incomprehensible. The victim, the surviving grandfather is vilified by some for the request. And think of all of the taxpayer dollars that will be “wasted” on this young man when killing him would be so much more fiscally responsible. As if a life can be reduced to the cost of one’s existence.

Into this fray comes Jesus, “ I give you a new commandment to love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.” John 13:34. Paul in his epistle to the Colossian church similarly teaches, “Forgive one another. Just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.”

Of what are we forgiven? Murder. Return to the Passion of our Lord. Taken into custody, beaten, denied food and drink, tortured, ridiculed and killed. By people to whom He offered love, teaching, and a mission of treating others with respect. And what was God the Father’s response to our actions? Did we receive death? Did we suffer “an eye for an eye?”

If it had been so, you and I would not be here today. Instead, the law was fulfilled in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. We were not only forgiven, we were set free!

So when we read that we should love AS we have been loved, is there really a limit to what we should be willing to do for another in the name of Christ? When we are confronted with any insult from the most petty slight to violence and death, and we are called to forgive AS we have been forgiven, do situational ethics change the equation?

Was it just lucky for us that we as a people are spared for killing God’s Son?

While can never understand the heart of evil, the work of demons in our midst, we are not called to match hatred with hatred, but to love and forgive AS the Lord has done so for us.

Doing so does not change the fact that sin has entered in; it does not mean that there is no consequence at all. We can hate the sin. But we are all children of God, and we are not appointed to play God and dispense life and death in a way that He has not.

Our God gave us the example. While it may hard for us to fathom such boundless and infinite love that God shows to us, a fractured people, nonetheless it is His example that we must model, growing into maturity of faith.

God knows we will falter, in small and monumental ways, but AS He shows His grace and mercy to the least of us, so too we must strive to do likewise. Even in the darkest of times we must cling to Christ, the perfect example of love, humility, grace and forgiveness and to render “justice” with that little word “as” in mind.