Love is the Whole Point

When the kids were little, I’d tell them to do something, “Go brush your teeth.”  And then I’d tell them again…and again. In between reminders, they’d come and keep asking things- “Mom, Mom…” followed by a question- “do I have to put water on the brush first, what if I don’t rinse? You said 2 minutes but I have homework..” Sorting out how much I REALLY meant what I asked. Trying to distract me from expecting it. Question after question. Sometimes they must’ve seen me cringe or hear my exasperation as I heard, “Mom, Mom…” and I said NOW WHAT? They’d reply, “I love you” and run off. So much energy used up avoiding what I asked. All I really wanted them to do was something that was good for them, because I loved them. Today we pick up the gospel when Jesus has already encountered the Pharisees, the Herodians, and the Sadducees all attempting to derail and discredit his teaching about what God means in the laws given to the people. Now they send in the EXPERT. He’s the guy who knows all 631 laws and everything the rabbis have said about them. Because somewhere between Mount Sinai and that day, all the questions led to new laws beyond the first Ten. Following every little detail would be impossible SO with 631 laws, “tell me which ones are the important ones, Teacher.” The EXPERT hoped to win on a technicality. But Jesus reorients it all. He says it’s all important, because it comes down to orienting our lives to God and each other in love. Way back when God liberated the people of Israel, God reminded them why, and then gave the commandments with these words- “Because I am holy, YOU are to be holy.” The law was a gift to guide us to live as we’re made. To be holy- to reflect God’s love. Because God desires that all people flourish and have abundant life because God loves us- it’s all about love. And we need to know how to love.

 We question and we try going through the motions. Like a man who knew how much his beloved loved roses. When they’d dated, he bought her a dozen roses- a splurge, but she delighted in them and their love grew. So he kept it up week after week. Then he found a florist who had a deal- a dozen roses for three dollars- how could you go wrong? The roses were confiscated in drug raids. Distributors from Colombia would hide packets of cocaine in them. After the big drug bust, law enforcement could care less where the flowers ended up. Week after week, roses. She had no idea. When money got tight she told him that she adored the roses, but they were an extravagance she could forgo to meet their needs- hers and his. He made the mistake of blurting out-“BUT THEY ONLY COST THREE DOLLARS!”   Oops. Now from her perspective they were no longer a loving gesture- but a throwaway. He wondered why she didn’t appreciate his effort however flawed. After all, hadn’t he mastered the “give your wife nice things” law?  It’s easy to get love wrong.

We struggle with just how far God expects us to go and what’s good enough.  Being holy is being distinct from our world, yet it’s hard to maintain this attitude when our culture tells us that there are people and things we can cross of the list. There have to be limits-ways we try to make God’s law fit ours. Times when saying “I love you” from a distance without offering more ought to count. It shows up in our questions: Should we really invest in a program if we don’t get anything back- if it doesn’t add to our membership rolls? Should we bother if people aren’t responsible enough, or don’t love us back in the way we want? When we’re asked to do more for ALL of our neighbors-How far do we really have to go, God?  ALL feels too hard and we don’t wanna. We wrestle with questions and yet sometimes realize we’ve pushed the limit with the Holy One and hope saying “I love you” is enough. God is holy and we are different. This is our history.

It’s a good thing God is different. God’s role in the relationship shows God liberates Israel even while knowing there’s a golden calf just on the other side of that mountain. God redeems people who find any reason to try to turn off the voice of the prophets and Jesus himself. God forgives even when we walk away from the truth we find so different from us that calls us to eat less so others can eat, even “the lazy ones.” To care for people who are sick and disabled even when their condition is self-created. To reach out and love people who won’t show us the love, gratitude or affirmation of our actions we desire. To keep loving even when the world will despise or ridicule us for doing so. This is God’s love. That same love that tells us-You may think others are too different from you and unworthy. They may be different from you, but you are all the same kind of different from me. Yet I love you all.” The whole point of God’s framework for our lives is rooted in this love.

We can’t just memorize it or go through the motions of what looks good. That’s like a throwaway “I love you” or castaway roses- we know how we’d feel. And we can’t require an emotional connection in order to offer love.  God’s love is cycle of being that says that “loving all of our neighbors is loving God” AND “loving God means ordering our lives in God’s arrangement so all of our neighbors are loved.” No matter what. This is Jesus’example. He endured the tedious questions and rejection of His message, and walked with the failed attempts of those wanting to follow who find they can’t. And in the midst of it all, embodies the real HOPE of the gospel- God’s love for us all is SO BIG  it goes to the cross to promise forgiveness again and again. Forgiveness for those we think have fallen short, for us when we fail to see our limits, and for the times we suddenly grasp just how far off base we really are. Forgiveness: Christ’s body and blood- FOR ALL. That’s a whole lotta love. May we again see signs of God’s love, and stand in awe. Then be empowered to go forth and live God’s message in the world that LOVE really IS the whole point.

art by Liz Hicks http://blogerisms.blogspot.com/2010/10/love-is-whole-point.html

Living This Side of Trauma This Side of the Cross

Last week we heard God’s words tell us that we should seek to bind ourselves to each other. To strive to restore the lost to the community even when we’d rather not. To be persistent in the work of repentance, reconciliation and forgiveness. Today we go deeper and struggle with the notion of just how far forgiveness really goes. After all, surely there are limits! It can’t really be right that we keep forgiving someone who perpetually harms others, or that we forgive when the harm is something really big. But we hear otherwise. We see Joseph weep and struggle with his brothers, and we hear Jesus tell Peter straight. There is no sugar coating it. We’re called to forgive. What if I can’t just forgive? What does that say about our faithfulness as Christians?
I have a confession. I don’t often speak about my life, but I can’t really call you to the journey of forgiveness without sharing my own struggle with it. I’ve been working on forgiveness over something for nineteen years. We went to the hospital for the birth of our first daughter. I was the model expectant mother- no caffeine, no alcohol, not even TUMS for endless heartburn or Tylenol for the sinus headache that lasted the first three months. I took my vitamins, went to the doctor, and planned every detail of the nursery. I read all the “what to expect” books, attended the childbirth classes and was as prepared as anyone could be. Prepared for everything except- what to do when it all goes wrong and you find yourself in the OR, your baby is blue, with two dislocated hips and possible brain injury because the doctor didn’t pay attention. Nothing prepared me for that. The blur of orthopedic visits, evaluations, and the shock that doors that might be closed, her life compromised by profound negligence. She wasn’t expected to live. By the grace of God she did, and we’ve navigated the consequences. She has overcome limitations in amazing ways that have taught me much. But for a long time I was hurt and frustrated-with no real effective consequence or place to go with my bitterness. In fact, I am not sure that even when I entered Seminary I could have preached this sermon. How do we live on the other side of traumatic things?

Our culture doesn’t really provide the tools for that- for the weight of the pain and gnawing awareness it can’t be erased. Hearing the words, “just forgive” when it sounds like a switch we can turn on and off, is a myth. Today many of us are recalling the shock of a large scale trauma in our nation, where the enormous task of forgiveness has a global perspective. While we are focused upon commemorating the people and events of that day, I’d like to suggest that we not overlook the other watershed moments in our daily lives where forgiveness is just as elusive: the loss of a job, the breakup of a relationship, the face of cancer. When a loved one is in jail, or our home is gone. There are lots of places where we struggle with blame and anger, estrangement and grief. Times when not only do we wonder how to make sense, we might wonder what it means if we can’t just flip that forgiveness switch. Am I a faithful Christian if I can’t just do that?

John Patton, wrote a book entitled, Is Human Forgiveness Possible? and says, "Forgiveness is not something we do; it is something we discover. I am able to forgive when I discover that I am in no position to forgive.” It’s where one pastor friend of mine speaks about being aware of the cross, but banging off of it again and again and not quite getting there. This meaning of the cross in the world and in my life, reminds me of this internal battle between my head and heart- between what I know I should be able to do, but what I can’t commit my emotions to doing easily. We can put a man on the moon but the distance from our head to our heart is somehow the longest and most difficult. And while we are called to continue to work at the work of forgiveness, it is OK to accept that it is a journey where we discover forgiving along the way.

We are not called to forget or condone, but to allow God to transform us in this process. I haven’t forgotten what happened, but somehow I got to the point where the real bitterness left, and to a point where I could consider forgiveness. But that’s just one event in my life. We all have lots of moments where we wrestle with offering forgiveness or longing for it. Which is part of why Jesus tells us there is essentially no limit to the number of times we have to face forgiving, over and over again. To the Jewish audience he addressed, the number seven times seventy isn’t just math.

It’s intended to represent the perfect and extravagant ability to forgive. This is what God shows us. Ironically, I also wonder if maybe it takes me trying to say “I forgive” about that many times to make the journey. Even then I know I will not have written God’s law of love permanently on my heart. The journey toward forgiveness is one where we can see that it is only with God and by God’s grace that we can travel toward that place where we might discover “grace fluttering into our hearts.” God’s desire for us to reach this place is both a desire for the person who has wronged us, and a desire that we reach the place where we are liberated from the pain and weight of sin as well. This is God’s desire for our own personal hurts and those of our larger world.

Even bigger than asking “what does it mean to live on the other side of pain,” is “what does it mean to live this side of the cross?” The cross reminds us of both our need and God’s work. The cross is where we begin in worship, with confession and hearing God’s forgiveness. The cross is where we end-our future lies in the work of Christ on the cross for the salvation of the world. And in all the moments in between, the cross is the place where we join together to remember who God is for us and what we need. God could easily be saying to each of us, “how many times do I have to forgive you?” But instead stays with us as we keep banging into that cross. While we try to limit and restrict the scope of forgiveness and our role in it, God’s love expressed in the cross really is astoundingly scandalous and extravagant. Today we have to opportunity to be marked with the sign of that cross for healing and forgiveness, as a tangible reminder of this love, where God meets us at all our places of need and pain and says, “I know that about you, and I still love and forgive.” Sisters and brothers- let us never tire of meeting in this place of hope and healing and then proclaiming it to the world.


Let us pray- Lord, we give thanks that you meet us at the cross. Forgive us for our inability to forgive as you do. Help us in our journey to give and accept forgiveness. By your cross, may we all be healed. Amen.

It's a New Day Dawning

Today is my first "official" day as the newly called pastor. In the last two weeks I have preached a call sermon, bought a house, moved an office and a house and cleaned up after Hurricane Irene. Since then I have tried to find important things like the grocery store, my toothbrush and my laptop. I am blessed with truly amazing neighbors who have offered cookies, advice and a leaf bag and some pretty amazing hospitality. Even the sellers of the house helped us move and they patiently worked with me to help me master the security system and knowing which days are street cleaning, things that come with city life.

The church is preparing to celebrate its 100th anniversary but like many, the population is mainly older adults, many of whom no longer live in the shadow of the steeple. Funerals are a frequent event (in fact I conducted one the day before I was officially starting). They and many others worry what will be the future, or maybe better stated, if there is one. And the refrain is "we've tried so many things and and we're tired" but they hope today is a new day. For every person who can tell me their connections to the church here in the neighborhood, almost as many tell me it's a shame that they are struggling. I don't yet have a good read on all of the reasons people who left did so. Or a good read on where, if anywhere else they went.
Then again, unsolicited, lots of people have tracked me down as the new pastor to tell me they have been waiting to meet me and they speak about coming back. Too soon to know if this is what people think they should say.

But for now I want to focus on the notion of "we've tried it all."
And I am reminded of the Gospel of Luke when Jesus approaches Simon Peter and tells him to put the boat out into Lake Genessaret. It's morning. Which means they have already been out all night and though they've tried everything, they haven't caught much. They are already bone tired and frustrated.
But they go back out in the boat and put out the nets.

Notice that they don't do anything new-the focus is on the fact that they followed what Jesus said in hope.
Everything changed, and abundance broke forth new possibilities in places that would seem incapable of yielding anything new.
Not because of them, but because of Jesus.
A new day dawned.

Often we feel we have tried it all. But have we remembered to take Jesus with us? More importantly, do we REALLY believe that God is the God of possibilities?
This takes herculean faith when late in the game it seems like there is not enough time or energy or life left.

May God give us the inspiration to make the shift that Simon Peter made when he stops telling God what is possible, acts in hope and faith and just follows.

My Name Spells Gratitude- The RevGals Friday Five

A wise person once told me to make an ABC list of things I am grateful for any time I feel sad or depressed. It is a good practice when one is feeling happier than that, too. So for this Friday Five, I suggest that you use your name or nickname of about five letters and express your gratitude about something that starts with each letter. Some people have longer names, so you decide how you will go about this! (Last names, middle names, and nicknames count!)

C is for Children. We have two beautiful and talented Lutheran Chicks. Our older daughter has flown the nest somewhat in that she has gone off to college. She will be a sophomore in the fall, majoring in Social Work and making beautiful music. Our younger daughter is away serving each week at a Lutheran summer camp and will be a high school senior so we're in the throes of College hunting. College could have been the C.

A is for Anticipation. I am eagerly anticipating a first call parish, and before that the next few weeks of preaching, meeting and greeting that God willing will culminate in beginning a new journey in ministry together. :)

R is for Relationships. My Beloved spouse of almost 22 yrs, my family, my seminary friends, my hospital buds, my Zumba and weightlifting homies, all of the people from my Seminary formation, the campground I served, Toby-our lovable family canine.. the list goes on- I am blessed with relationships.

O is for Outdoors. I love to be in my back yard, with the birds, the trees, the gardens, my new patio space, watching all of the activity in creation.

L is for Lounging. I have gotten to do a fair amount of it, living in the inbetween after Seminary. Amidst the angst, I have also gotten to do more reading, puttering and contemplating things I usually let blow right by. When I am up to my eyeballs in busy, I hope will remember the season of lounging fondly.

Y is for Y Not? I am grateful for the gift of curiosity and sense of adventure that God has given me-it has taken me to a lot of people,places and events I would never have experienced if I was adverse.

N is for Noshing. Dinner with family, trying new recipes or restaurants. Impromptu get togethers. Creating fun things with the amazing seasonal produce. N is also for "Num, Num!" What our daughters used to say when they were little and ate something tasty.

R.I.P "Busy Bird"

As a followup to yesterday's post, I decided to go out and finally attempt to capture a picture of our favorite bird, which we've nicknamed "Busy Bird." Much to my sadness, however, I heard some bird activity and a cardinal swooping in for a reconnaissance mission by our patio steps. He then quickly left as I came around the bend. I noticed an army of ants heading up the steps and then I suddenly got it- there was a dead bird. Earlier in the morning I had heard a thwock against the picture window- it's somewhat common for clumsy bumblebees and occasional birds to bounce off of the glass. But unfortunately, the bird in question did not survive the error in flight path. That bird appears to be our yard sentry, "Busy Bird."

BB reminds me of a type of lovable and simultaneously irritating personality often seen in parishes. Self appointed, he would make the rounds on a quality control inspection- was the bird feeder full and safely in place? Thanks to BB we realized when squirrels had knocked it down.
Was the birdbath full and clean? Every day, twice a day he perched on the arching perch above the water to survey and then bathe or chirp if things were unsatisfactory.
Was there a clog in the gutter? On our screened porch one section of gutter was notorious for getting the peeling bark of the sycamore, the burrs of a linden and other detritus in it, which would congeal after a rain. We used to be able to sit on our screen porch and hear the slapping sound as BB would trawl through the gutter for bugs or perhaps nesting items, but in prime efficiency mode, fling out all obstacles to this quest onto the ground.
It took us a while to realize why there was always one place on the driveway with a pile of tree matter. But we always knew when there was a clog.
BB was almost possessed about defending turf. He was known to prance along behind my husband when he was mowing and I could never really tell if he was pointing out shoddy work or just peeved at the intrusion into HIS yard.
And when the trees were cut down and the patio garden created, he regularly followed me curtly tutting about my presence in HIS space, regularly preening the area and occasionally staking out an outpost for surveillance on the top of a tomato stake.
He also engaged in the radical practice of chasing away large birds like starlings who were menacing the smaller birds at the feeder and was once seen chastising a squirrel who finally gave up rather than deal with the onslaught.
But I have no picture of this dark gray and black bird who was hardly the showboat of the field but whose quirky yet loving presence made the yard remarkable.
RIP, feathered friend.

Small Wonders

My good friend from LTSG has resurrected her blog as RevHarmonica which you can check out HERE. And it inspired me to try to get back to posting. So what have I been doing with my time?

Well, I graduated from Seminary in May and frankly full well expected to have their profile in hand before graduation. But then it took just a little longer (though the Bishop's Office has been amazing!). Then I thought that almost immediately after that I'd be interviewing with the Charming City Parish Not So Far Away. But it took a little longer. But it was a truly Spirit led meeting and I left with lots of positive inclinations for myself and from them. Next stop neutral site preaching! But then, that took more than a little while to find a date and a place, it being summer and people having schedules, etc.

So I found myself now looking at more than eight weeks after graduation just to get to preaching which is next Sunday. But I will be preaching in a familiar place which is good because for a clumsy person like me, learning the furniture is a challenge and just to make it more interesting I am getting trifocals tomorrow. (For this I blame Hebrew but it was worth it!)

Meanwhile, it may be as much as another six weeks til I might have met with their council and preached a call sermon. The good news is that under it all it sounds positive. The hard part is finding myself actually doing less in a church than I have ever done in my adult life while I am trapped between a home synod that will not be my home synod and a new synod that is not really yet my synod.
And no real job of any kind because I thought this was moving and I said no to hours I could have been working.

And we sadly said goodbye to two 80 year old trees so I found myself saying goodbye to old friends and faced with a whole new landscape that a year from now I may not be living in.
So what to do in all this in-betweeness?
Rejoice in small wonders. Literally.

I've been getting to do more reading and have been thoroughly enjoying the series of essays by Barbara Kingsolver called "Small Wonders." She is an exquisite detail writer who can make even the wing of a small insect something to marvel over. I have been able to follow more closely all of our bird friends, and our resident groundhog and rabbits, and recently aid six tiny bats make it outside. Not to mention all of the time for rubbing Toby's belly which he greatly desires.

And I have been puttering in a new container garden patio and rejoice that my pepper and tomatoes are bearing promise. Taking the time to stop at that roadside produce stand and get the most exquisite raspberries ever. (Sorry no pictures- they have been eaten).

Testing out new recipes-maybe more on that later.

Zumba-ing which is an excuse to shake what the good Lord gave me and get away with it and weightlifting in case benchpressing to resolve a council meeting might be
needed (not really).

Cleaning out the attic and basement because the day of moving really will come.

And being more intentional about my time with friends, new and old. Tomorrow I hope to visit a gentleman from my internship parish who will be 96 on Saturday who has been a faithful friend and theological sparring partner.

I've been watching our Lutheran Chicks in their jobs- LC#1 is working locally and LC#2 is working at a Lutheran camp with RevHarmonica's Lutheran Chick.

And getting back to using the Divine Hours which is an amazing way to keep a day in focus. After all, if Jesus could take time apart to pray, surely I can? It often seems to be just the right passages and prayers.

And I have refused to grouse too much when every invite to Party on the Patio has been rained out- the porch worked out great for wine drinking.

All things that I have said I would do "If only I had more time." I have the gift of time and to truly tarry and wait for the Lord. Maybe it will help me remember to tarry when I feel like I can't and to see all of the small wonders I miss when I feel like I have to quickly do the big flyover.

It isn't always easy to wonder about time and inertia, or to refrain from envy as most of my class is now called and/or ordained. But I have a much keener sense of what it means to eagerly rejoice in all things with my friends and await where the Spirit is blowing for me while I capture glimpses of small wonders.

You'll Never Walk Alone

Every day as Kim Clark was getting ready to leave for elementary school, her Mom’s parting words to her as they were about to separate went like this:
“Remember who you are. All those people who worked and sacrificed for you to be where you are, when you walk out this door. You carry with you the mantle of responsibility-the good name of this family, the hopes and dreams of your Mom and Dad. Remember the promise that is yours, the opportunities that are in front of you and the hope that is in you for a better world.” I wonder if the next line would have been- and you better get it right because if you don’t remember, you don’t love us and it all depends on you. It’s possible to hear Jesus’ farewell words this way- “if you love me, you will keep my commandments.” Remember. It’s hard to remember this when we’re just getting through the day, but harder still when it’s getting through each day when they’re gone. How will we remember? What will it mean if we can’t keep all that you told us? Perhaps we think of this in our nation, this Memorial Day weekend, we’re remembering those who fought and sacrificed for us to be where we are as a nation, while struggling to remember that Memorial Day is not first and foremost about sales at the stores, or picnics, though we can do those things too because of the sacrifices of others. Some worry that we as a country no longer remember the wars of another time and what we learned from them. What if we aren’t good at keeping the memory alive?
Remembering is about more than ritual. It’s about what is in our hearts. It’s what each of us lives out when we try to hold on those we’ve loved who are now departed from this life. We hold them dear in different ways and times, hoping we’re not alone, that they’re somehow still with us. In my husband’s family, we hold dear my late father-in-law whose birthday is next week and whose favorite pastime was watching horse races, especially the Triple Crown races- the Kentucky Derby, the Preakness and the Belmont. All family events and meals were planned around when these races were televised. All conversation stopped when the horses were loaded into the gates. He always had some crazy way of picking who he thought would win. After studying the racing sheets, it usually was the name, or the jockey or some other inner voice that he relied on. Often he was right. Even now we find ourselves trying to imagine which horse he would have picked; which grandchild has said or done something that reminds us of him. We tell stories, and imagine what he might say about events in the family or the neighborhood. It’ll be eighteen years this fall that he died. Still each spring, his three children take turns putting flowers on his grave for the races- Red Roses for the Derby; Black Eyed Susans for the Preakness and White Carnations for the Belmont. Because he asked us to. Our race is the Preakness- black eyed susans, the Maryland state flower. The winner is draped with a blanket of them after the race. Every year I’ve struggled to find black eyed susans. I never do, so I end up trying to do something that’s as close as I can get. One year I couldn’t even find nice yellow daisies. I ended up getting silk ones and coloring in the centers with a black permanent marker, one by one. To honor his words. It was only much later that I learned that the blanket of flowers the Preakness uses really isn’t made of black eyed susans. They’re daisies with their centers painted because while everyone wants to honor the state flower, they can’t be ready in June. So much for keeping the letter of the law, but we try.
But no matter what we do, we can’t bring back a real sense of my father in law with us, just a memory. For my mother in law, who’s lost both parents and her spouse, it’s can be hard not to feel orphaned and alone, wondering why the world doesn’t see things the way you do. Keeping memories alive is hard.
But Jesus’ words to the disciples and to us remind us that Jesus isn’t only a memory, but a living presence. Although Jesus departs from the physical presence of the disciples, Jesus is not dead, but living. And we’re asked to do more than keep rules, but hold Christ alive in our hearts. It’s ultimately about more than ritual, it’s about ongoing living love, embracing God in our very being. It takes more than we can produce. Enter the Advocate.
The purpose of God sending the Advocate isn’t about demanding ritual, it’s about love. God sends the Advocate out of love for us, knowing it’s hard for us to remain faithful and stay true when we feel alone and at odds with the world. God sends the Advocate, literally as “one who walks beside” so that we continue to see what Jesus first revealed- God’s purposes, God’s power and God’s love. So that we can remember more than who we are, we can remember WHOSE we are. So we can begin to believe what that means for our lives. By the Spirit, we not only see Jesus, but Jesus dwells in our hearts. God’s love is sent to us by the power of that Advocate, to move our hearts to connect to God’s. The Advocate walking beside us brings this awareness of this blessing and this challenge.
Perhaps it is borne out of my own experience, but the best way I see the Advocate is like being the Mother of teenagers. I have two in my house right now. It’s hard to send them out to experience life, occasionally learning things the hard way. I hope that they remember the ways they were raised. Along the way, sometimes I’m there to comfort them, to offer guidance, stand up for them, listen when they need to vent, to talk to their Father when they have a need or a problem, to offer hugs. Other times I need to give them a push, set a limit, or tell them they are flat out wrong. I am both thrilled to see who they are becoming and sometimes really frustrated when I see how they treat each other or others they meet. I want to scream “Remember who you are!” But no matter what, out of love, they are mine. And it’s more important that they remember I’ve got their back, reminding them- you'll never walk alone.

God’s love made known to us is even better than this love on its best day. It’s an eterrnal love we receive and are empowered to share by the power of the Spirit. We can see it when we gather to worship, pray and fellowship, in all of the people the Spirit uses to draw us in, nurture and remind us whose we are. And it’s what moves us to share what Jesus promises each of us-By the power of the Spirit, and through the Spirit, we are claimed and forever connected to the Trinity. We hear “You will never be orphaned. You’ll NEVER walk alone.” We reminded that this promise is ours, as is the opportunity in front of us. This is the real source of hope for a better world. Hold this dear, remember it often and with the help of the Advocate, share your walk with God in your lives so no one walks alone.