When I Say I Am a Christian I Need to Get it Right

I am woefully behind in posting sermons here- in part because I was fighting major sickness before and during Holy Week, and then there were the funerals both at the church and beyond. Normally I wouldn't bother to say any of this except to say- for all of us, sometimes there are clusters of busy-ness that we are trying to work through. And when we are busy, sometimes we don't get to pay attention as closely as we might tend to or want to. So in the midst of that I was heading into Sunday feeling like the car coasting on fumes.

And wrestling with a sermon that wasn't quite clicking and I was looking for just that certain something to wrap up with and I found it! Or so I thought. I was preaching on 1 John and wrestling with the notion of Christian perfection and somehow I came across "When I Say I'm a Christian" and it clicked! And the poem by this name was attributed to Maya Angelou. I loved it, and I spoke of it in my sermon and several people were really taken by it.

The dream for pastors is that people tell you how they connected with the sermon, or what they will be thinking about, or in this case, one person was taken by the poem and went out to find it. Only to discover that there was a whole lot more the to story- and as grateful as I am that he was listening to my sermon, I am even more grateful for what happened next.

It seems that the Internet has co-opted "When I Say I am a Christian" and by that I mean that it has been adapted, and given different attribution and circulated in a variety of ways, BUT these things have all happened without the permission or desire of the true author. The true author is Carol Wimmer.

Her website is HERE. Carol wrote her poem in 1988 and it was first published in 1992. She holds the copyright to her poem.

So, perhaps now I should add that in addition to being a pastor, I am a lawyer and in fact have taught at Gettysburg Seminary and at the Region 7 Leadership Guild on the subject of copyright permissions. It is absolutely a question of Christian ethics concerning Luther's notion of vocation, not to mention the 10 Commandments has a thing or two or two to say. And of course the federal law has a lot to say about the rights of those who create.

We want people to create beautiful music, art, poetry, photography, and resources that enhance our lives and ministry. And we want immediate access to the things we want to use. As much as I am a creature of social media and the internet, I was reminded yet again of the deceptive nature of what is "instantly available." This is not the same as instantly usable.

Those who create have a legal right to compensation for use of their work, and a legal right to oppose the use or adaptation of their work in ways they do not wish to consent to. It is a matter of compensation and dignity.

So often in our world of instant digital media, we fall into a trap of a combination of impatience and desire.

Here I was a "late in time" sermon writer who now realized that what I thought was the truth was not. And of all things, in my own area. Ironically, the sermon I was preaching using I John 3 focused upon what it means to be God's children, not only in the great beyond but in this life. The challenge of  living as the epistle says " that those in Christ will not sin." The struggle of the concept of Christian perfection and the sense of gratitude and humility we can sense when we remember God's love. We cannot achieve the vision of what it means to be pure or without sin. Yet over and again, the God who loves us and calls us children invites us to strive to draw closer. Our lives are lived somewhere between perfection and "who cares." " I want to" is not enough of a reason to run roughshod.

There are lots of reasons to care and to do all we can to get this right, rather than become indifferent or even defensive about the value of the work of others. What did I do? Well, first I went back and took out the incorrect information before my sermon will be published and this coming Sunday I will tell my folk that I misspoke. And, I contacted Carol Wimmer and explained that I wanted to use her poem- the real one in my sermon blog ( sermon to be posted later) but that I also wanted to tell the story of how her poem and rights have been infringed upon. She graciously agreed ( thank you, Carol!)

Here are her words- "So many people have NO understanding of the purpose of copyright law. There is NO perception of the need to guard and protect the spiritual intent of a work! I literally receive hate mail from people who have had the copyright infringement removed from their social media accounts. I am accused of not being a Christian. Judged as being spiteful, or against sharing the gospel in order to make a name for myself. These judgments come only from those who carelessly share the altered version of the poem which changed the original intent of the work...It's all about protection of inspiration and intellect...In all my years I have never had anyone come to me with the desire to use my work in the context of discussion on copyright issues. This is wonderful!!!"

Imagine, sisters and brothers, discovering not only that your words have been twisted, but that all kinds of merchandise appears with what is not quite right but also for which you receive NO compensation- coffee mugs, posters, calendars, and more. And to boot, the poem you felt inspired to pen is attributed to another person altogether! I hope you can hear her pain in the words above. This is the way many whose work is lifted feel. And well they should!

While I am sorry I originally got it wrong, I am delighted to have connected with Carol and the rest of her website HERE.
And I am grateful she provided me with a download of the original poem along with permission to use which appears below.


WHEN I SAY, "I AM A CHRISTIAN"

When I say, "I am a Christian"
I'm not shouting, "I’ve been saved!"
I'm whispering, "I get lost sometimes
That's why I chose this way"

When I say, "I am a Christian"
I don't speak with human pride
I'm confessing that I stumble
Needing God to be my guide

When I say, "I am a Christian"
I'm not trying to be strong
I'm professing that I'm weak
And pray for strength to carry on

When I say, "I am a Christian"
I'm not bragging of success
I'm admitting that I've failed
And cannot ever pay the debt

When I say, "I am a Christian"
I don't think I know it all
I submit to my confusion
Asking humbly to be taught

When I say, "I am a Christian"
I'm not claiming to be perfect
My flaws are all too visible
But God believes I'm worth it

When I say, "I am a Christian"
I still feel the sting of pain
I have my share of heartache
That’s why I seek God’s name

When I say, "I am a Christian"
I do not wish to judge
I have no authority
I only know I'm loved

Used by Permission
Copyright ©1988 Carol Wimmer
All Rights Reserved
www.carolwimmer.com
www.whenisayiamachristian.com
www.facebook.com/whenisayiamachristian

Sisters and brothers, may we strive to do what is right, walk in grace and honor what others create.

This is the Good Stuff

Grace and peace to you, my sisters and brothers in Christ, in the name of the Triune God. I bring you greetings from your sisters and brothers at Holy Spirit as we give thanks for the privilege of sharing in ministry with you for the sake of the gospel here in Reading. This afternoon we will share in the CROP walk for hunger, but today especially I want to lift up and share our gratitude for a way you support our ministry over the years that ties in to our readings for today.

At Holy Spirit, we have an afterschool ministry called the Doves Nest, which provides a free meal, tutoring, literacy assistance and fun for 40-80 kids three days a week. Most of the time we are grateful for the meals we receive from the Kids Café program of the Greater Berks Food Bank, but a few times a year we are blessed by a feast when members from here at Nativity lovingly prepare and deliver a special meal that takes the place of the usual food.

I can assure you, that when the kids, especially the older ones, get wind of the fact that a meal is coming from Nativity, that good news spreads like wildfire! Poor Shirleen has to plan her arrival so she’s not mobbed by the kids. News of a meal from Nativity is like the proclamation of a feast! The kids go around and make sure everyone knows the news- “you gotta be here- this is the GOOD stuff!”

While I am sure that no one is thinking of well aged wines (God forbid!) or fatted calves, it is indeed a great meal. One that invites our kids into something different- knowing that great preparations were made, for them, and the taste of that great meal lingers in their memories and speaks love. And for some of our kids this meal sustains them in the midst of places that don’t seem all that great or maybe even loving. And that’s where our readings come in.

Admittedly, it’s hard to overlook the intensity of the language in the gospel this day, which doesn’t seem all that loving either. But it’s helpful to remember this is a parable. A story told to show a truth. Not told to show that the story is fact.

And I’d like to suggest that at this point in the gospel as Jesus has been sparring with the leaders for some time about who he is and what he’s about and it’s helpful to see that the strong images are intended to get attention about a truth about God’s power and purpose. Because you don’t want to miss out on what God’s up to. It’s a message humanity often misses.

All our readings this day call to mind the tensions of the world but they also point to God’s providing in the midst of it. In exile and strife, and struggle and confusion, there are these meals. Spoken of to a people in exile, to a church in conflict, to those beset by enemies, and those who weren’t expected to be included. There are these great meals.

In different ways, we ourselves know what makes for a great meal in our lives. It can be a great meal just because the ingredients are exquisite and the chef talented. It can also be a great meal to be with family or a special day. Or maybe you’ve been hungry for a long time and you finally get to eat. Maybe you’ve been sick and unable to taste or take in food, but now you can. Maybe you’ve been in a place of dark shadows, of loneliness or loss, staring at an empty chair, but today an empty chair is filled with a dinner companion- and that’s a great meal. Perhaps you’ve been at odds with someone but now there is a peace at the table. All of those are great meals, are they not?

Even our psalm this day lifts up a feast, however unlikely.

Psalm 23 is the most well known passage of Scripture in much of the world. We probably all know it well. After we hear the Lord is our shepherd and we are led by still waters and to green pastures, but before forever with God, there it is. “You prepare a table before me even in the presence of my enemies.” Even when we’re surrounded by struggles whether they are people or emotions. This is gospel for us in all kinds of times and places.

I heard it this past week as one of my colleagues told a story as a Vietnam vet of being in a watchtower on a hill with a few guys, eating lots of C-rations, and being pretty isolated. But occasionally they’d get mail. And on Christmas Eve he got a package from his fiancée.

Inside was a canned pheasant. I didn’t even know you could put a pheasant in a can. Canned pheasant and mandarin oranges and popcorn. An odd feast. And way too much for one person but those cans had to be eaten as soon as opened. So he and his fellow soldiers there in that tower surrounded by shots most of the time, had a feast, one he still calls one the best ever- as the shots stopped for a awhile, and there was a feast on Christmas Eve.

From those cans came a feast that spoke of the love of his fiancée, the protection of God and the goodness of something unexpected and abundant.

This is what our Scripture shows us- not only the goodness and power of the food, but of the provider who continually prepares and invites. Our God continually lovingly prepares for and invites those who long for it, and those who don’t get it. Those who will savor it and those who will dismiss it. Even in places and times we can’t expect-God provides a feast, prepares a table and says “Come.”

And Jesus asks, “Do you really want to miss out on grace?”

God is feeding us too. Again this day-in the midst of our busy-ness and our challenges. Our frailties and doubts. Dark places and short-comings. There’s a great meal here that offers the power to sustain us today- it is a feast and celebration!

And so, we’re invited to take all those other things that fill our hearts and minds, and are maybe even distracting us now and STOP.

Stop what we’re about and be fed with good things. Good things that will be carried in our hearts and minds so we can so as Paul encourages- think on these things. Think on the truth and honor of what God offers, the pure grace and wonder worthy of praise-

the things God gives, that are stronger than enemies, and dark places and prison cells. Because the God of peace meets us in this meal and is with us. And it starts here.

In order to be the church that shares good news, I think we must first stand in that grace and take it in again. And the best part is that we’re invited!  To be lovingly fed by Christ and strengthened to walk in God’s world and to love others- to share as the kids would say, the news of the good stuff!

This is the invitation- so Come and be fed.  AMEN

 

Living Blessing

One thing I miss about living in Lancaster County is Gleaner Season. Where we used to live, at the edge of a town surrounded by agriculture we lived in awe of the Gleaner. It would come through town to get from one field to another. A massive machine that took up the whole road and shook the windows of the house as it drove by, it was so powerful. It was designed to get ALL of the crop from the field.

Smaller scale harvesting left things behind. The Gleaner kept that from happening. The field is stripped bare. I find it ironic that then a huge percent of the harvest never makes it to the store because it’s not pretty enough but that’s another sermon.

I have a friend who grew up gleaning the traditional way. In a poor family whose parents used to drop them off at various fields to pick, not around the edges- in the middle where you can’t be seen. She grew up thinking that everyone did this. Only in adulthood she discovered it was trespassing and theft. It was the neighboring farm. I don’t know if the farmer knew and tolerated it, or if it was lucky for her they were never caught or found themselves at the other end of a shot gun and someone else’s understanding of the law. Getting caught in the wrong part of the field is like being on the wrong part of the street. Either way, I am sure they would not have been blessed by the landowner.

In Ruth’s day, gleaning was a part of culture for many, actually provided for in the law. But just like not everyone drives the speed limit, not everyone obeyed the law about leaving part of the harvest behind for others. Not everyone was as charitable- and in our reading, did you catch the little phrase about wondering who this person was, followed by an assurance you will be treated well?

It suggests that not everyone treats gleaners well, or maybe not everyone treats foreigners well- that maybe what some can get away with others cannot. And that maybe people think that the problem of those other people is just not their problem. Ruth and Naomi are widows hoping for enough to survive, counting on gleaning in the harvest season to eat. And Naomi has been bitter and skeptical, with frankly, good reason. Ruth goes out determined and frankly a little fast and furious. She’s going to glean as long and fast as she can.

Ruth works fast, because it may not last. She asks no questions, and bothers no one. And no one bothers her. She’s tolerated. No one so much as offers her water in the midday sun either. In our story today, there are not only Ruth, and Naomi and Boaz, there are all those other people in the field, just doing their thing. But Ruth is not connected to them.

When Boaz shows up, he gets personal which is what living out God’s law looks like. He shows up and blesses his workers. How many of you when you show up for work are blessed by your employer?

He blesses them, and then he notices Ruth.

We perhaps want this to be about how he “notices” Ruth and sexualize the story to give him a motive for generosity. But there is nothing in this encounter to suggest that. Rather, he seems to be the sort who notices others. After all, Ruth is hungry, she’s traveled far, and she’s a foreigner. That suggests dirty, smelly, scrawny, not Hollywood beauty. We’d feel better about the times we don’t notice others if we give Boaz a motive.

Boaz, takes a personal interest in Ruth-because their paths have crossed. He doesn’t have to. He could ignore her and truthfully say what a ridiculous decision she made. She could’ve stayed where she was. She chose to follow this Naomi and put herself at risk. Why should anyone care if she’s that foolish not to take care of herself? Indeed today, I wonder if we would think that Boaz is the brave one, letting some foreigner glean on his land.  She shouldn’t be our problem. In a world where every needy person or person who is “not like us” is now viewed as an intruder, or an assault.

 

Boaz not only shares he blesses Ruth! Boaz instead notices her and praises her loyalty to her mother-in-law. And then shows generosity, and blesses her.  “May the LORD reward you for your deeds, and may you have a full reward from the LORD… under whose wings you have come for refuge.”

Boaz represents what loving kindness looks like-  abundance, protection, hospitality, blessing.  

No wonder Naomi is astonished. Aren’t we all?

Naomi had decided to just be bitter, now she has hope. The hand of God she thought was against her is not. She’s quick to name God as the source of blessing: The Lord whose kindness has not forsaken the living or the dead!"

Naomi’s hope isn’t found in remembering that everyone recognizes that gleaning is the law and everyone follows it, but because in spite of human nature, a good thing has happened where you can see God’s hand in it. That’s what she teaches Ruth and us-that while God has spoken in large miracles, like speaking from burning bushes, or dividing the sea, God is far more likely to be seen acting through the faithfulness of ordinary human beings. Like you and me. God’s blessing happens through us.

Our world and our lives are full of places about more than just physical hunger-there is real hunger for many, for more than just food. Hunger for dignity, for generous hearts, hunger for compassion, hunger for justice that laws be used rightly and enforced the same for all. A hunger that our lives actually touch others, a hunger for blessing.   Ruth shows up hungry, striving, struggling to find hope. Wondering if that emptiness can be filled. Maybe you have too.

And we’re met by God’s blessing, that’s God’s desire-lovingkindness, and mercy and grace not judgment or scorn or rebuke.

That’s the gospel for all of us as Jesus spoke this day-telling us, his followers, to live out our God created identity.

Live as God lives toward us- Don’t condemn, don’t pick on people or jump on their failures. Show mercy. That’s how God already sees it. That’s what Jesus reveals. That’s what God wants for us, and what God wants us to share. That our lives do touch and that blessing and grace overflow.

So today we’re going to do something else we probably don’t do much- bless each other. You’re the end of the sermon.  

I invite you to turn to your neighbors, and remind them of that blessing made most clearly known for us in the cross. It’s time to get personal.

Make the sign of the cross on their forehead and say, “you are a blessed child of God.”

I wish you could see yourselves- you’re all smiling! You’ve been blessed! That’s the gospel – the blessing we experience here we’re called to take out into our world!

Amen

 

 

When Empty is Good

They go the tomb and it is empty. Empty. Things that are empty are not usually positive- the empty gastank, the empty bank account, the empty refrigerator. Empty is a place of fear, of not enough- that its not enough, or we’re not enough. Empty just by watching your faces tells me feels like doubt, or fears. They go to the tomb and hear- not here. And whether “not here” is like that voicemail message when we wanted help or that spot where someone used to be, “not here” tells of feeling alone, and of loss and sadness. Empty and not here- often means what we don’t see. The women come desperate for meaning and first encounter empty and “not here.”

But then they are rocked with something more. And encounter what happens when empty turns out to be a good thing. It’s mystifying and not fully there. They don’t get to see Jesus but they hear one thing.

But they hear he has risen and to go and tell.

And somehow it is enough

To leave the tomb and move forward instead of remaining paralyzed like the guards. No amount of words can fully capture what that glimpse and truth would mean.

They leave with that and a promise they will learn more on the way.

It’s not everything but it’s good news. And they don’t leave just with the same ration of fear and sadness, they leave with fear AND joy. Both.

Sometimes people tell us that to be a believer means that when we face the unknown or mystifying we just need to have faith.

Not so says the resurrection story.  

Having fear is not the absence of faith. Instead God sent a messenger to help us see the difference between stunned and stuck. Even when we feel like we’re moving but we’re not sure how.

Somehow some of the fear has been left behind in that tomb with the old grave clothes and yesterday.

And it’s replaced with a seed of faith and joy

That there really is new life in this story

There really is more than we see.

Because God has acted and Christ is risen and though we don’t understand all of it, we really will be given what we need on the way.

And as the story is shared, and other things are seen and heard, each who encounters will come to faith, but differently. Just like us. That somehow we see that what seems empty is good.

Recently there was another moment where empty is good- it was last Sunday when we had our first Sunday as one unified worshipping flock. And at the end of communion, the napkin the holds the bread was empty! There were enough of us here that I got the last little tiny bite. Empty! Praise God! I think that moment was one where we gathered in fear and joy and wondered if it would all be OK. And God delighted us with more to strengthen our faith together. That bread napkin was empty! And it was good.

There’s a third time that empty is good. It’s when this place is empty. When we who have been forgiven fed and filled, leave. Because the sharing of the gospel is happening out there along the way. I hope and believe and am filled with joy as I continue to see new faces here- young and old, from everywhere. And I don’t think they’re here because they suspect we have it all together. I think it’s because we are willing to share how we have encountered the good news and invite people to come and see with us on the way.

Some of you have come this day brimming with good news in your lives, and some have come hoping to hear Alleluias that maybe will start to feel true. Still others may wonder if the experience will match the greatness of expectations, or fear that you won’t pull off the perfect Easter day.

Each time we gather and share the story of Christ and share in resurrection, we share those glimpses we see on the way that strengthen us all. Those messages that allow us to look into that tomb and leave behind some of the fears.

And in place of that spot, the emptiness is filled with joy, and with faith. And that’s why I want to invite and encourage each one of you here to keep walking on the way, keep coming again to speak of things that looked empty but led to new life. Of the mysterious power and love of a God that wants to fill our empty places and replace our fears with joy.

God wants to help as us see in the way Brian McClaren has stated it-“that it is enough to faithfully and simply tell the story- of women at dawn, of men running half believing, of rolled stones and folded grave clothes. Of a supposed gardener saying the name of a crying woman, and sad walkers encountering a stranger on the road home. Of an empty tomb and overflowing hearts….(and) God comes to give us wisdom to know that the best we can do is stand in awe. Christ’s work on the cross and that empty tomb surpass all our flowers and flourishes on this day of mysterious hope beyond all words.

May we be less conscious of achieving the perfect decorations, or the finest music or wondering if our emptiness shows. May we instead be drawn more deeply into the confidence in in the Risen Christ whose presence here trumps it all.  God is a God of new life and never-ending possibility. Forgiveness and grace and love for us.

May we this day be surpassed by the simple but undeniable joy of standing together and daring to proclaim the good news- Risen Indeed! Alleluia! That death is not the last word. Violence, hate, condemnation, betrayal and failure are not the last word.

No. Each of them are left behind like rags at that tomb. And from that tomb arises Christ- Alive! For us! Forever!

 

Reflections on Ashes

This year we should be feeling blessed by a “late” Lent and Easter season. Instead we have been surrounded by so much cold and damage and dirt of a season that has assaulted us that we are surely ready for the ashes of it to blow away with the next strong gust. So the new life of spring can start.

While different times in the church year can signify endings and beginnings, for me perhaps Lent is my favorite. Today we receive ashes made from the palms of last year’s Hosannas, and they are also ashes of everywhere the journey took us after Palm Sunday. A whole year of places of love, truth, patience and kindness. And places of affliction, hardship, sleepless nights and hunger.

All of it burned away to dust.

What starts out like a giant leafy palm, becomes the small amount of dust in this dish. There are actually a few palms that became our ashes. But even if we had all the palms we waived last year, there would be room in that dish.

I think it’s a concrete way of seeing that we cannot store up the praise or the glory we think we’ve achieved. We cannot hold onto that dust.

But are also reminded not to hold onto the pain of the times that we really messed up or where someone really hurt us.

Let that dust blow away.

This is my third year to work with our dust. And at a fundamental level my comfortableness with the ashes reminds me of how it all comes to this dust. You see, they don’t teach us how to make ashes in seminary.

My first year, I had little idea how to make the right ashes and I got lots of unhelpful advice like what my internship supervisor said- let the sexton do it. I fussed and fussed to get it right- not to crumbly, not too oily. I made a huge mess and ended up with far more ashes than we needed.  Enough for decades of Ash Wednesdays.

But once mixed with oil, they don’t keep. Last year’s oil is pretty nasty. In spite of all the fretting, if you do not remember those ashes, that is a grace. If you do, sorry.

My second year, there were so many things going on that I waited until the last minute. I was so preoccupied and as a result, they were not fully set- too spare for the early service. Barely a cross maker at all. If you don’t remember that, that also is a grace. And if you do, let it go.

This year, I put a little oil in the dish and dumped in the ashes and walked away. When I came back later, a couple stirs and they were ready. Which probably means there should be a whole lot less of me, and all the things I hold onto. And a whole lot more of God and God’s timing. After all, God is used to making things from dust. And making something from what feels like chaos.

These ashes remind us where we’ve been and yet invite us into a season that’s about working through the chaos. To get to what’s essential. What is not essential is burned up or blows away. Jan Richardson writes that Lent challenges us to reflect upon what we have filled our days and lives with. To see what habits and practices, possessions or ways of being have accumulated, or taken over. Where is a pattern of chaos threatening to block our seeing the presence of God?

Each scripture passage today invites us to ponder what our practices are and which ones we have given ourselves over to. And which ones God calls us to- individually and as a community. To pay close attention to the rhythms of our lives to see which practices draw us closer to God and which pull us away.

We ask God to create in us a clean heart. Lent asks- What is the state of your heart?

What has taken up residence there?

Are there habits or ways of being that you are so invested in or attached to that it is difficult to see new places God might be inviting you to move into?

Out of the good and the bad and even the ugly of a year, God is creating a new path that takes those ashes and makes a new path marked by a cross. Making beautiful things from the dust.

On this day and throughout this season may see more clearly what is treasure and may our hearts be open to the unexpected life that only God in Christ can bring. That cross-it’s the only thing that we truly need.

And because of our loving God it’s the one promise we can be sure of.

Why is Jesus So Harsh?

This past week I was coming home after a full day of Bible Club, distributing grocery bags and Table Church and my neighbor was standing on his porch asking, ”Can I have communion and can you tell me the gospel reading for Sunday?” He has missed Table Church and was going to be away Sunday.  It had been a long day and frankly I was tired. My first response was to say the gospel was Matthew 5 on killing, adultery and divorce and that I didn’t have any communion at home. Yes, I know I really did say that at first.  

I’d traveled long that day. I really didn’t want to turn around and walk back to church and get the communion ready and walk back again... About one whole minute later, I popped back outside and said-“ I’ll be right back.”  I went back and got wine and wafers and as I came back, he apologized if I had gone to any trouble. But really, how many people are so focused on Jesus that they would even ask? It seemed necessary. And it was for both of us.

I set up communion in the dining room and started reading this gospel lesson from Matthew. As I read it frankly all I could imagine was someone hearing it who needed some good news and it's murder, adultery, divorce, hell fire. It’s harsh. And I almost felt like I needed to resolve it in some way. So I talked a little about how sometimes as a parent and even before that as a child there have been the “hard conversations” where the niceties get stripped away and we tell people straight up truth not only about love but owning our actions. And how all the rules we had for our kids were about showing them how to live in life and love. Our “law” wasn’t about creating a game no one could win. The words themselves might sound harsh but they have a purpose. That sounded good.

Then I pointed out that it’s easy to hone in on the sexy words of divorce or adultery or the fierce words of murder where lots of judging happens and say- well I didn’t do THAT! But Jesus is speaking about things much more broadly- the ways we are all somehow drawn into the scope of words that kill, promises broken, lives shattered ad hearts that are grieved. Not just where we are victims but actors. And you know, when Jesus puts it that way, it’s pretty hard to be judgey. We want to believe that our relativism or comparison strategies count. It stings to be reminded that none of us is who we were created to be or even wanted to be. And that sounded good too.

Well, then I suggested that the good news is there is more to the story- that though we cannot live up the law, God’s grace in the cross is the last word.  And although that’s true it kind of fell flat.

Luckily I think he wasn't listening to that. Because he was emotional and said hearing those words from Matthew were just what he needed. He had felt someone was a little insulting and sarcastic, so he had been a little salty back. Reflecting later he realized that the other person might not have understood and he needed to make it right. He wasn’t focused on “just get to the grace.” He was focused on the ethics. And it really wasn’t a terrible thing he’d said, but he looked for a time to work together with this person where they both volunteer to have a conversation to clear the air and tie up loose ends.

And then he shared that it felt good to do that. Hearing Jesus’ words about our ethics, affirmed not just what he had done but to keep doing it. Keep choosing to transform something rather than just let it go. We really do need that accountability. This is what Jesus is getting at. One scholar I know says, following Jesus means doing what Jesus says which is MORE demanding than other paths. And it is about community. Just appealing to grace won’t cut it.

And I think I played the grace card because I felt guilty about my earlier words.

We can opt for recognizing and trying to gloss over our human failure but Jesus goes to the root- our motive and attitude matter. And the justice and righteousness of which Jesus speaks- God’s transformative will-demands confronting and changing the status quo in all of us.

When we do not live this way, we are not participating in the completion of God’s purposes.

The law is not about pleasing God, it’s what’s given for our life- all of us. More than a negative goal of avoiding sin. But a positive one of discovering and following what is God’s will. The sting we feel is not that God’s being harsh, its our experiencing the potential for pain and destruction our brokenness brings and seeing our role.

All the examples Jesus gives show that destructive expressions kill. Angry thoughts, words of contempt, insults, public shaming, emotional abuse, disgrace. Choosing to demean and discard. We want to hear these are not as bad as killing. But we know in our hearts how these destroy and cause loss of life. Even when we think it’s a little thing, we are sacrificing each other in ways that harm more than we know and break our connectedness.  God calls us to keep each other focused by giving us this community.

When we are not reconciled in relationships we find life lacking. But the work of tending relationships is not convenient. The story of leaving the sacrifice imagines journeying 80 miles to do something only to turn right around and journey back the same distance and another week to participate in mending a rift. Much farther than a block. That’s how far we should go to avoid allowing bad in relationships to remain unresolved. Or risk someone feeling lost altogether.

It shows the importance of relationships to God and what Jesus shows is what God gives for us. For life. We don't find life in the comparison strategies or relativism we want to rely upon.  Even in what lots of people gravitate to- the part about divorce. Jesus is speaking to protect dignity so that no one is demeaned or cut off. In Jesus’ day marriage was a male prerogative in which destructive behaviors included victimizing women to abandoning them for things as simple a thing as spoiling a meal. Jesus proclaims that destructive behaviors undo the “One flesh-ness” of marriage. Even here, no matter how we try, none of us perfectly escapes times we undo the one body-ness of many relationships in some way.  

And living with perfection is beyond our grasp.

This is where Jesus continues to come to show us and lead us into new places and to offer forgiveness. In seeing our brokenness then we grasp the power and love of the cross. And the strength to try again to live into the ethics of the kingdom. Where we show and experience God revealed. Together. In all our thinking, speaking and living. Even the simplest words.

My neighbor didn’t need to share his experience with me- he could have kept it to himself. He shared because he had a need. But it wasn't for me to make Jesus more palatable. He  and I needed to hear Jesus say again that doing the hard work of relationships was holy and that God’s word, communion and fellowship are where continually we meet the God who promises to lead us not into temptation or the destruction of evil, but into the kingdom. My neighbor said at the end that when he is away from church too long, he can feel it. That he needs it. We all do.

And the other day he saw I was stressed and called out, “Pastor,  just remember Matthew 5. “

 

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.

He's Dead- Is There Something You Can Do?

I was walking home after the mid-day Good Friday service and the prayer vigil looking forward to some long awaited time with my family and Toby, when, as I approached the corner where I lived, a car pulled up to the stop sign and honked the horn. I didn’t immediately recognize the car, but just then the window rolled down and the man inside asked, “Excuse me, ma’am but are you a pastor?” Now I should say that my all black outfit and Anglican collar was a pretty good indicator.

When I indicated that yes, I was a pastor, he looked pleased and asked, “Do you have a minute, I really need a pastor” and began parking the car as I said that I could spare a moment. He takes time parking a very well maintained car and steps out, beginning by thanking me profusely, then beginning to tell me he has just had a terrible thing happen.

He was walking his parents’ dog while visiting and it seems that the leash was too loose. The dog who apparently often tries to slip the leash, managed to do just that and dart into the path of a car. The result was fatal. I expressed my condolences as he continued that he had the dog and was on the way to have it buried, but seeing me he had stopped because “ I was wondering since you are a pastor, if there is something you can do?”Perhaps it was my Good Friday/Easter mindset, but I immediately began to wonder in my mind just what he meant by this.

I suggested that I could say a prayer, a blessing of sorts and asked if this was what he had in mind. To which he said, “why yes, that would be great, I mean it’s not like you can raise him from the dead or something.” Indeed. Just then a neighbor walking his dog sauntered by. The man became sad and noted- my neighbor’s dog was wearing the same style of leash and collar. “You there, sir! Please hold on tightly to your dog! I was walking my family’s dog with that collar and he slipped the leash and now is dead! Take care of your dog!”
My neighbor appeared cautiously grateful and a little confused, as he moved on. “I really did everything I could,” the man said. Of course, he had.

I asked for the name of his family dog and after telling me, he offered that  the dog was in the trunk. Before I could say anything, he was popping the trunk. Two thoughts went through my head- is this safe? And what will I see? There was a cardboard box, with a cover over it. I offered to pray, and we prayed a prayer of thanksgiving for God’s gift to us of creation and all the creatures we share life with, a prayer of thanksgiving for Kelly (the recently deceased) and a prayer of hope for the day when God restores all of creation. I prayed for comfort in this time of mourning and peace for all whose lives were touched by Kelly.

Afterwards, he hugged me and repeated how he had done all he could, regaled
me with the family history of canines, and then again reiterated- “I did all I could.” I assured him that this was so, and that he could accept that God knew this was true- that he could accept this as true and not beat himself up. That Kelly knew but Kelly had just wanted to run like he always liked to. He hugged me again, thanked me, wished me a Blessed Easter, and told me how grateful he was to cross paths with a pastor.

In all of the ways I have been blessed to proclaim forgiveness and assurance, I could not have imagined this one. But as I walked a couple doors down and saw my own puppy waiting at the door, tail wagging, I really do believe that in its own canine way, there was a story of Good Friday to Easter grace there.

A New Year, A New Day

I don't happen to be the resolution-making type. But many people, maybe some of you, do engage in the tradition of pronouncements of intent for the coming year. Many people focus upon things which will make them more organized, more healthy, more attractive, more successful, and the like. The concept of resolutions for those who make them, is both a looking back and looking forward at the same time. It is easy to yearn to be more or less of something than in the prior year. It is natural to look forward to the notion that maybe, just maybe, the future holds a brighter day, a new and improved look or outlook- a fresh start.
Whether we make resolutions or not, many of us, myself included can be attracted to the inherent idea that what one has been is not the ideal of who one longs to be. Of course, magazines and newspapers offer catchy self-help lists and ways to make it oh so simple to perfect what seems to be lacking in our lives and fill in the blanks. Whether it is those pesky 10 ( or in my case 25) pounds, or some other woe in need of reformation, ads for handy products tout the ways in which magic things can transform us and our environs- at least the models look satisfied and self-assured.
And maybe, someone will actually keep their resolution for the year, or the first month, or..maybe next year, like Bridget Jones, she will still be nail-biting, smoking, crash-dieting, losing track of papers, in a dead-end job, alone on New Year's Eve. And all of the panaceas which held such promise will have been cast off.
I think taking stock of where we've been and where we are can be wise- the thought that there is a quick fix to transform us is however, pretty unrealistic. It sounds like a hopeless business.
But luckily, you and I do get a chance for a better today and tomorrow and eternity. Not because of the great product which awaits us ( but wait! Act now and we'll also send...), but because of the greatest story ever told. God's saving grace incarnate in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. This is what allows me and you to begin not just each year anew, but each day anew. In our baptism, as Martin Luther states in the Fourth Article of the Small Catechism, the old in us has been put to death, and a new person comes forth daily to rise up, cleansed and righteous, to live forever in God's presence. This forgiveness of sins, and rebirth are for me and "for you."
Today, as we celebrate the naming of our Lord, we know that the story of Jesus is not just about coming down to earth to check things out, but allowing Himself to be born, cared for, named, cirumcised, and dwelling with us, as one of us, for us.
So while I do not make annual resolutions, I can resolve each and every day to seek God's will and try to be an instrument of this will in all I think, say and do. Luckily, even when I fail to keep this resolution as I should, instead of having to come back to be simply confronted by yet another failure as the final indictment, our loving God assures us that even though we cannot come to know Him as we ought, we have the blessed assurance of life eternal. This is true not for anything I have done, but the fact that God is trustworthy- that is a resolution we can count on!

The Lutherans

So, as I said, we went to the Lutheran church on Reformation Sunday. The late service: proof we had no kids. No need to get up early. I should start by saying I had never been to a Lutheran church before. Well except for Girl Scout meetings. I did not know any Lutherans. I had never been in any liturgical church except the Catholic church when I was in kindergarten and a funeral when I was 17. And what I remember from the funeral was that I kept going with the Lord's Prayer but everyone else had stopped.
I had also never been in a church where the peace was shared, and the only time anyone processed in my home congregation was for the service of Lessons and Carols. I never left my pew for any purpose growing up because you were served communion in the pew with the trays being passed. My church had no altar and no image of Christ on the cross, just a simple cross on the communion table. So there was a lot I was not equippped for and I didn't even know it before that day.
We walked in and there were lots of very happy peeople buzzing around. The greeters were eager to shake our hands and fill them with bulletins. We sat in the back. The church which holds about 250 was full. And unlike my home church, people were sitting down and talking in the pews instead of being quiet.
And then the full choir was lining up behind us to process with the cross. And I see my coworker- I wave unobstrusively. This prompts the people in the pew to introduce themselves and ask if I know her and how, and is this your first time to worship here. And I learn they are still getting used to the new worship book ( the LBW).
The service was vibrant, the pastor gave an animated sermon. The congregation were belting out the hymns- Luther would be proud. No as loud on the liturgy but it was still pretty new.
And I have no clue where we are a lot of the time between the bulletin and the LBW, sit, stand, kneel. But the music was great, the sharing of the peace inspiring. No mere casual shaking of the hand on either side. The pastors are coming through the church, people and the choir are out of the pews and walking around. It takes abotu five minutes of hugging, handshaking, laughing and getting back where they belong for the rest of the service.
And my husband, the lapsed Catholic is happy because he has been to enough masses to know more about the liturgical service than I do. He seems comfortable. So by the end of the service we have been met, greeted, and embraced by this group of people.
We decide to worship there again. And so it continued for awhile.
My beloved's initial response to church up until this point was " I will go, but don't expect me to join." After about a month or so, he pronounces "Ok, I will join, but don't expect me to do anything." This is progress. But suddenly it dawns upon me that I am not sure whether I can be theologically a Lutheran.
I have been raised in the shadow of Calvin, predestination, the importance of works, and that communion is a remembrance not a time of the real presence in the elements.
What if this is not what I can embrace?
So I began to read a little Luther, and do alot of thinking. And the overwhelming things I found was that the concept of grace was so compelling. Not that Presbyterians do not believe in it, but still a different perspective. Each Sunday the pastor is preaching about grace, but at a certain level I was still bothered. It seemed like our actions were immaterial because we have grace, that it did not matter whether we tried at all to be different. So I went back to Luther.
And for me what I found was not that we should not care because we have grace, but that our knowledge of grace should inspire us to more. Not that our works earn us anything, but that if we are not inspired to do God's work, maybe we need to re-examine our faith. And I had long conversations with the Pastor. As for communion, I feel that it is for me so much more comforting to believe that God is present in communion in, with and under the elements rather than a more distant sense of our Father.
So we became a part of a new member's class and joined in February of 1990. By then I was singing with the choir and ringing with the handbells. Though there is much more I could say about faith and our time in this congregation perhaps the most important post-script is my beloved. He later went on to become involved with evangelism, then serving on Council, and chairing evangelism. And now serves on an inter-synodical committee for campus ministry. Had I insisted he do any of this, I am sure it may well have turned out very differently, but watching his faith and service develop has been a great joy. We hope we are passing this on to the Lutheran Chicks.
Much more to be said about our home but as I look back over the almost 19 years, it seems hard to imagine not being here.