Who Are We Kidding? It's Not Someone Else's World, It's Ours

If only we could say we didn’t sin, the Lamb of God wouldn’t be nearly so busy. But we do. It’s been said that a preacher should preach with the Bible in one hand and the newspaper in the other. But with all of the news of this past week, rarely have I wanted to get rid of that paper, and TV and internet so quickly as events in our world are spiraling.

Paul Raushenbush writes, ‘there’s a sense of despair and disbelief that the world can unravel this fast and anger at our (powerlessness).  But we are not powerless and this is not “happening to us.” We as the human race are doing this to ourselves. These are not natural disasters or “acts of God” – these events are just us, humans, having completely lost our humanity- warring, hurting and killing each other- intentionally or unintentionally, through direct assault or indifference or neglect.” We have forgotten that we belong to one another, we are connected, we are brother and sisters, and that we need each other.

He suggests its time to take back the power- in keeping with today’s reading – it’s time to turn up the light.

We hear in I John- This is the gospel message we have heard from him and announce to you- God is light and in Him there is no darkness at all. If we say we have fellowship with Him and yet keep on walking in the darkness we are lying and not practicing God’s truth.

But if we walk in the light as he himself is in the light- we have fellowship with one another and with God, and the blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us from all sin.

If we say we do not bear the guilt of sin, we are deceiving ourselves and the truth is not in us. But if we confess our sins, God is faithful and just, forgiving us our sins and cleansing us from all unrighteousness.

If we say we have not sinned- we make a liar of God and his word is not in us. That’s pretty heavy.

Thanks be to God that we know that in spite of our failings our salvation is assured and our sin removed!

That’s not God’s only concern- Because we are part of God’s community, and what is happening in the world is our concern because it is God’s. And the news is not the sin of some other world, but ours.

 The opening line of the gospel last week spoke of the Word that created all things in the beginning. And then I John shifted the focus to the “Word of life” as the Christian message. This life finds its beginning in the incarnation- Jesus is God in a body. The point of the message is to create “koinonia” often translated as fellowship. But it’s more. My Greek professor in seminary said it is a “Participatory partnership.” The word God speaks is an embodied love. That love and mercy are shown through us- our speech, and action and presence.

That is authentic faith and authentic community. And that means that what happens around us is not some other person’s world, but ours. And we are saved to participate in making known God’s work for the world. That Christ who died for our sins- died not only for our sins, but for the whole world, promising that darkness is passing away and the true light is already shining.

It’s too late to bring back the innocent lives lost in the Middle East but it’s not too late to get serious about real peace, and to stop the killing that is happening now. And shine the true light.

It’s too late to save the lives of those lost on that disastrous Malaysian Airlines flight- but we can insist that this is unacceptable and not let it be a springboard for further violence and hatred. Shine the true light.

It’s too late to spare the victims of death and destruction in Honduras and around the world who have lost their lives- but it is never too late to advocate for peace and to provide life for those children who long to be whole and not fractured. Shine the true light.

Because if we say we are in a participatory partnership with God, yet walk in darkness, we are lying and not doing the truth. There is a contradiction between saying we are partnered with God and God’s kingdom yet living in ways that contradict that relationship. We’re kidding ourselves. There’s a contradiction between saying we love God but conveying a lack of love by what we say and do. We can say we care, but what do we do to embody that love and participate in that partnership?

It’s hard to know exactly what to do in these times, but we need to continue to insist upon the possibility of peace and light, starting with our own hearts. We can give to the ELCA earmarked for the church in the Holy Land to keep those schools I read about in Bishop Eaton’s letter-open. And we can pray.

You already heard the letter of our Bishop in response to the escalation of conflict and bloodshed in the Middle East. It might seem too big or far away but we can pray for peace and wellbeing for Israelis and Palestinians and to refuse to accept that war is inevitable or hate is natural. We could pray for God to empower us for peace. We can pray that while we are indignant at the loss of life that we not be swept into a rage calling for revenge. And since I’ve said it several times now that we could pray, let’s take a moment and do that… Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.

We continue to watch with horror at events in the Ukraine. At the beginning of Lent, our Bishop wrote that she “watched with dismay, along with the rest of the world, as tensions rise and peace is jeopardized in Ukraine. Recent dangerous developments in the Crimean region of the country put the lives of many innocent people at risk, and threaten peace and security far beyond that region of the world.” Now we see more.  We could pray for all of those involved -- whether governments, movements or individuals -- to repent of aggression and violence, and turn instead to the way of peace through dialogue. That wisdom, peace and justice to prevail. And pray for those who are grieving losses because of this aggression.  And we can pray for the world’s church leaders including the All-Ukrainian Council of Churches.  So let’s take another moment of silence and pray…Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.

This past week Bishop Mike Rinehart of the Texas Louisiana Synod and others traveled to Texas to the border to learn what’s going on in the surge of unaccompanied minor children. Bishop Rinehart shared that the misinformation about unaccompanied minors is staggering. News of the surge of 60,000 unaccompanied minors since last fall makes people think that border crossings are up. In fact border crossings are down, way down. Border crossings in the 80s and 90s were over 1.5 million. Now only 420,000. So what’s going on?

Violence in Central America is on the rise. Honduras has the highest murder rate in the world. Jennifer K. Harbury is an attorney in Texas. She’s a first generation Jew, the daughter of a man who came to the US to rebuild a shattered life. Fortunately, her father’s boat was not turned away like the SS St. Louis, when European Jews were seeking asylum in the US. After the Holocaust, the US promised, never again will we turn away asylum seekers. If we send these children home we send them to die.

Harbury housed a refugee from Honduras. At 13, the gangs told this refugee he had to join or be murdered. He refused and they beat him nearly to death. A year later they came back again with the same demand. After refusing they ran him over with a car. His mother gave him $30 and told him to go north. Hitchhiking on trains he made it to Mexico, where he was kidnapped and held for ransom. Escaping, he crossed the river and was picked up by US Border Patrol. He was treated poorly in a harsh detention facility until the local sherriff stepped in. In time he was settled with a foster family, but after a month he was picked up by immigration. Harbury now meets him through a glass window in jail, fighting to bring him home. When the issues are in real live flesh before us- it brings the truth home.

Rhinehart writes, “Look into their eyes. These are not cartels smuggling drugs across the border. These are children seeking asylum. They’ve been battered and mistreated. Who, with a heart, could deny them protection? The Gospels tell us that Jesus was once a refugee, who crossed the border into Egypt fleeing for life under the threat of violence by Herod. Jesus welcomed children into his arms when the disciples wanted to turn them away, saying, “What you do to the least of these, you do unto me.” And told stories like the Good Samaritan, in which a victim is shown kindness by a stranger. Fear teaches us the lie of seeing others as enemies. Love in Christ shows the truth and teaches us to embrace strangers, even enemies.

The good news is that churches are partnering through Catholic Charities, Baptist churches, Lutheran Social Services and people who seem to understand the problem better than the mainstream media.

Unaccompanied minors journey a week to 2 1/2 months. Some were mistreated on this trip. Once they present themselves, border patrol has 72 hours to process them. If possible they are repatriated. If not, border patrol gets them into a transitional facility, like the one operated by Lutheran Social Services. Thank God for our church’s response. This surge has overtaxed facilities, but Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Service is currently helping connect close to 100 generous families every day to programs around the country who are seeking loving placements for the children and youth they serve.

Some people suggest that these children are running drugs. Border patrol told us this is not the case. Drugs are being run by Mexican cartels, not from children seeking asylum from Central America. These children are not running from border patrol. They are running to border patrol and presenting themselves as refugees and asylum-seekers wondering if there room in the inn? I believe so.

This is a challenge now caused by an escalation of violence and poverty in Central America. And hopefully funds will be made available. But what can we do?  We can learn, we can advocate, we can give to Lutheran Disaster Response.

And we can pray- for the children, for their families, for the border patrol, for the communities affected here and in Central America, for our government, and for compassion in our hearts. We could pray that while the throng of children trying to come here is overwhelming that we might be guided by God’s love to see this as a humanitarian concern. That as we have before we have offered a haven to those fleeing darkness and fear and ask God to help us set aside our own fears and bring peace and empower us to live out the gospel.

Let us take a moment now…Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.

We’re called to tending and mending of relationships. It starts with being honest about damage that’s been done while saying that what has happened does not determine the future. A future that has been blocked by something that has damaged a relationship can be opened up by the word that offers release and a new relationship.

This is what God in Christ offers us- this is the true light for the darkness of our world. This is the word that breaks the pattern.

God knows real people will not always act this way- no matter how truthful the gospel is, we are all capable of kidding ourselves, capable of believing nothing new is possible, so why start. But Jesus didn’t die for us to continuing living the world’s lies. Easter is God’s refusal to leave the world in a lurch. This is the message we hear and can embody- that God promises to reclaim us and everyone else. Our prayers matter, our voices matter, our resources matter.

Let us pray- Lord, empower us to be faithful in embodying your love and your word for the sake of your world. Amen

 

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This week, I am indebted to Bishop Mike Rinehart's reflection upon time at the border, as well as the fine work of Working Preacher and Rev. Dr. Rick Carlson for his translation of "koinonia"

 

 

 

Jesus Re-member Us

Jesus, remember me. Remembering has been on my mind a lot, with the large scale historic events of Lincoln's Gettysburg Address, and the anniversary of JFK's assassination. Closer to here and now, the church secretary, Donna, and I took a 96 year old saint to lunch who lives alone. She loves the Olive Garden. Her regular dining companion and driver died last year. Increasingly she wonders if she is remembered. I’d promised to take her to lunch awhile ago. This was the week. Being remembered brought joy. At the restaurant, the longtime waitress remembered her too which just tickled her. Over lunch we heard it was time to type out her pretzel gift list for the holidays, (on a real typewriter-remember those?), as she remembered being a secretary for 30 years. Dorothy is a positive person but she says, “I think I’m living too long perhaps.” Even so, that bright spot of remembering and reconnecting is one image of “Jesus, remember me” that empowers us and reminds us of the kingdom. Where, as Colossians puts it, Christ is the “one in whom all things hold together.”  If 'remembering' is powerful enough here and now as part of the flock, how much more meaningful is it when remembering happens in the mind and heart of Jesus? As we hear forgiveness spoken even for those who haven't asked for it, who may not even know they need it and the willingness of Jesus to truly see those in his presence, and then see beyond a brokenness. To remember and reconnect.

This is Christ as King, in charge and encompassing it all. We hear of glory and power, but it’s Paradise from one dying on the cross. Of gathering sheep amidst chaos and scattering. Of giving thanks with joy while enduring suffering. Seeing destruction in the world but hearing of the city of God. That too was remembering this week. Proclaiming God in what shakes us. One afternoon, a girl from the Doves Nest showed up grieving the murder of her uncle.

We went to the Chapel, a quiet peaceful place. I asked if she could tell me about him. At first she said it’d been awhile since she’d seen him. But then she remembered, telling of trips to the pool, and his buying the BEST Christmas presents as only an uncle can do. And she began to smile and cry.

It all changed when he was in a car accident, and he lost his memory. He wasn’t who he’d been before. Now even later, he was gone.

In the Chapel is a window, a beautiful window, through which even when the room seems dark, the colors stream in rays that create tiny places of beauty. We sat there in those little scattered but persistent rays.  Looking at the center of the window-Jesus, the shepherd. I asked what she saw in Jesus’ face. “Love…his eyes are love.” And what about that sheep Jesus is holding- what do you see? “That sheep is clean, and well fed, and peaceful. That sheep, pastor did you notice? It’s smiling. That sheep has a smile on its face! That sheep knows it’s got it good.”

Well, if you’ve ever seen a real live sheep, they’re smelly, and dirty, with junk stuck to them. They often make really bad decisions and get pretty banged up. Her uncle experienced that part of being a sheep in the world. Truth is that he became really broken. No longer the man she remembered nor the person God created him to be. Imagine a whole flock of that- that’s pretty much us in the world. It’s no wonder there’s such a contrast between paradise and daily existence. We see a story of failed leadership and scattering, where those who survive simply cannot create a new chapter. And while we want to just race to the hopeful verses, the starkness of our reality must be seen- like that man on the cross who knows what he deserves as far as the world sees it and anything different can only come from the work of God. God doing the opposite.

Gathering, not scattering. Bringing a promised future and a chance to thrive for all. A promise far different from our current world where failures have led to depletion and scattering that has reached “exile” levels. Jesus, remember me. Re-member us. Hold us together with you. It’s not yet here in its fullness. For the simple reason is that our failed leadership continues to contest God’s announced future and in the process continues to scatter and do evil. It makes us want to plead “Thy Kingdom Come!” But here is the promise- it has begun.

While we wait, what is needed is not a race to a greeting card cliché for the day, but remembering words of that new reality in our midst. As we sat in the Chapel, light streaming through the window, and our tears, downstairs you could hear the noisiness of the Doves Nest in full swing, but at the same time notice the peace of Christ. And that is how it is. And we remembered together that Jesus’ promises are true. For her uncle it means that now, he’s no longer broken, or struggling. He’s THAT smiling sheep. Loved, cared for, whole, at peace. That sheep with the smile. God’s power and love are at work. Simply and only because God has both the power and the desire to make it so. For him and for us.

When we are overcome and when we know in our hearts just who we’ve been. We can remember the good news that God’s judgment- God’s assessment of the situation- leads to God’s re-membering. Putting us together again and holding us. Remembering and reconnecting to Christ as God with us and for us. Christ refusing to let the results of “evil doings” be the last word. With us, even when the world around us might seem to be falling apart and unpredictable.

In chaos and in isolation, the voice of God can still be heard, a ray of light found. Jesus as the Lord of all uses his power to gather back, to re-member all things, everywhere. Putting us together and holding us in peace and reconciliation. This is the sign of the kingdom of God in Jesus. "The gospel that you heard and that has been proclaimed to every creature under heaven."

And this is what the faithful remember and praise. It might be a busted up and tattered flock and faith but it’s there. Just like when Jesus was on the cross, surrounded by mourners, followers, family, women and others- there at the cross not quite sure. But they showed up.  As one writer suggests, maybe this is what Luke means when he talks about expecting the Kingdom of God. It’s about the ultimate, but until that ultimate event actually takes place, it’s about being people of the kingdom who show up and remember-

helping, repenting, waiting, and  watching. Learning, supporting, and sometimes just showing up to mourn. But showing up- to look for and pray for the kingdom. Believing that when life seems hard, the world seems dark, or the race feels long, we can hold on to the good promises of God. Made strong and given joyful patience.

Problems may not go away, but we can keep on because…we are not alone. We are remembered and redeemed. Gathered to pray as ever-Jesus, remember me, re-member us in your kingdom. Teach us to pray believing your kingdom can be, and is so, in us. AMEN

Let us pray- Our Father, who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. For thine IS the kingdom and the power and the glory. Forever and ever. Amen.

(I have to say that Dancing with the Word, Working Preacher, Edge of Enclosure, www.d365.org and Ministry Matters are all really fine sites- please support them in their efforts)

There Was the One

Here at Table Church every week we are experiencing the gospel in a living tableau as we remember Jesus telling the little children to come, and we challenge ourselves to mean it. And we remember what it means to honor our elders and challenge ourselves to realize that they should go to the food line first, and it will mean others wait, but they can be fed too, and there is a plate for all. And we sit close in the shape of the cross and recognize that we jostle each other a little, but we also serve each other with the body of Christ and the blood of Christ, for you as our hands, young and old, cradle what we share as we turn and face our neighbor amidst the timeless truths.
The most important thing I celebrate is how we are becoming in all its diversity and even chaos, the beauty of incarnational living centered in the good news of the cross of Christ.
Last night there were many things happening but just as I was about to lead us into the sharing of communion., there were folks at the door peering in. A man and woman and then two little girls, tentatively lurking, not sure. And I stopped to encourage them to come in, and sit and join us. We waited for a moment and without my saying much, people got up and made sure they had seats, at an added table, and cups for communion and worship sheets to follow as I reminded our now slightly larger group, on the night he was handed over, Jesus shared a meal with his friends. He blessed the bread and the wine and said, "Do this and know that I am with you."
The power of those words and our gathering spills over into our shared meal, and our time in community as we listened to a visitor tell us of ministry in Canada where pilots carry people to villages and share the good news, where one year the Bible camp was called FLY-Forever Loving YOU as an expression of God with us.
Earlier with our Bible Club kids we talked about this Sunday's gospel, the story of the ten lepers healed and the one who returns to thank Jesus and to praise what has happened. And we took time to write our prayers of thanks and our prayers for healing. The kids are so incredibly open and risk it all believing that we have a space where they can talk candidly. For this I give thanks and am in awe at the trust. As we believe that healing is real and learned that Jesus had already healed the men, even though not all stopped to say thanks, and maybe not all would go on to live faithfully. Because it is out of that love God has for us. Healing and blessing are signs of God's love for us.
At Table Church in so many ways it is evident that we are touched by who God in Christ is for us, and with us-you simply cannot be here and remain ignored! And I celebrate the beauty of our diversity and our challenges and our willingness to risk being authentic.
Being mainly introverted this takes much. The place too far is that we are not comfortable sharing our prayers out loud. But many will accept the invitation to later post them on the prayer wall. Or bring them to me. Last night, after some time in prayer where no one spoke thanks or prayers for healing out loud but it was evident that much was being lifted by the light of our candles in prayer, and in the inviting call of our music, we concluded to be sent forth.
And then came the one- the woman who had appeared at the door late. Wanted to hand me her prayer of thanks- Thank you that I finally have a home.
Just like the leper now healed. Who now had a home. Not only a physical home, but in Jesus.
For the woman, until this week she had been homeless. Now they had a home. And she wanted me to know how grateful to God she was for a roof over her head, just a couple blocks from the church.
Even more important, she had walked into the place where Jesus was moving us, and recognized a change. A liberation, a relief, and hope. And as I was speaking to her, one of our folks was coming to tell her about our afterschool ministry, and someone else wondered if she wanted food to take home, and one of our kids was telling me she is friends with the daughters, and yet another person said she had a lead for a job.It was exactly what had happened in the gospel- healing and thanks and restoration.
Community. Incarnational. Good news in the flesh. Experiencing the "with-ness" of Christ.
And I looked around again as they all were leaving- the gathered dispersing, the ones who know just how vital hospitality is, how much we need Jesus and each other. If we think about us, and if we remember that we have all been healed and restored, when we allow ourselves to embrace that part of us, the blessings God brings are beyond our imaginings. And every week I am profoundly moved to be in such a place where good news takes root in us and with us. Again.

Lost and Found Angels

After my sermon,

she came to see me to tell me-

All my angels have been sold or lost- beautiful angels.

I had so many.

There was the Abuse, but I have stayed sober.

But there is the addiction and the shame.

But today I realized that no one can take away the real angels

No one can take away those angels that sit on each shoulder

But I forget and the devil gets me-
I hear voices, sometimes and the doubts…

I get scared

I wish there was something that would help me remember.

She clutched and stroked a new cross necklace.

She had found it lying on the ground, lost.

And I remembered a man we would say had great faith,

Writhing on the ground, with those demons and doubts

Clutching onto a cross

I am yours, save me! I am yours save me!

another story of lost and found.

 We held onto that cross and said it together.

And we prayed for help to find again-

 that God is with us, in Jesus and in those angels

In us.

You are not alone. Not lost lying on the ground unclaimed.
You are
mine.

And she asked as she often does, for me to anoint her

With that cross that will cling to her.

And that slight but persistent fragrance in the air that lingers and remains

That somehow seems far greater

 than the smoke of dashed dreams and regrets
 of lost and stolen things

Speak to us of hope and protection,

love and healing

 no one can take away.

Turning the Tables at Table Church

As I continue to post about Table Church, more people have asked what it is, so in part this is a flyover of what God is up to on Wednesday nights at 4th and Windsor Streets around 6:00. But first, let me tell you why you want to know. Because last night, after we had watched a snippet of the very popular "The Bible" series about Moses, one of the girls there who is about 10 got a quizzical look on her face and said-"It seems like God shows up on mountains when there are important things to say." So we then had a group conversation about other times God shows up on mountains and I asked where in the New Testament God shows up on a mountain that is connected to Moses, and it was one of our high school folk who knew it was the Transfiguration. Not the adults, not even the "cradle Lutheran" adults. A kid who long ago was a kid at the afterschool program and is now a gifted young person. But these two people taught us all. Golden moments happen on Wednesdays

So we started last year as a Lenten thing- evening Wednesdays- "bring a munchies, bring a friend." We had 5 the first week. By the end of Lent we had a max of just over 20 and talked about continuing in some way but for whatever reasons, we didn't get there. This year during Lent we started in the 20's and have on some occasions had in the 30's, but pretty consistently bounce around in the mid 20's every week. We gather with an opening liturgy where we light candles, and pray, and confess our failings in community and hear forgiveness. We talk about why there are candles, and the candles, bread and wine/grape juice are connected to the good news of Jesus. We bless our bread and wine/grape juice and commune each other. Then we eat what the community has brought to share and have conversation-all around tables in the shape of a cross.

Some weeks lots of homemade things bless us. Some weeks, people bring leftover food from office parties, or donuts on sale at the bakery outlet, or what you got at the grocery store because you had a little money and a little time. One week we were totally meatless and there was a plea for at least a little meat, please? There is always enough, but some weeks we have had to learn to trust and to wait. For some this is huge because insecurity is a way of life. I love watching this change.

Sometimes we sing some Taize songs, or paperless music. And sometimes we don't because we need to work on a better music component. But in any event, after dinner, we have a kind of informal study in a group that is decidedly intergenerational. We have talked about prayer, and stretched ourselves as pray-ers. We have used art, and small group times to engage what we are exploring. We have started to talk about our city and what we ought to try to do to bless where we are.

And at the request of one attender, we are now watching little bits of "The Bible" miniseries on DVD which he donated. We can then ask questions about the story, the people, hear parts left out, put things in perspective, and ask how we see God at work. So when we watched Abraham and heard how he is a very conflicted person and as one of the girls noted, often forgets about the people he is supposed to love, we could also ask what it says about God- that God would use really imperfect people to do God's work in the world.

We are a mix of all ages, backgrounds and abilities, and all levels of faith and faith formation. There are those who can read, and those who cannot, those who can move easily and those who cannot. Those who are financially Ok, and those who are not. Those who can bring food and those who cannot. Those who have gone to church their whole lives, and those who are still trying to figure it out, and those who have experienced "bad religion" but long to know God. And lots of people who are singles- widowed, divorced, separated, just here solo. I have learned a lot about real community from watching a large group of individuals ( as in not families) become family. That is a God thing for sure!

We have gotten more comfortable among our core group, as others move in and out depending upon work, and a lot of other factors in our transient neighborhood. And I have watched as Wednesday leads some to Sunday, or strengthens their walk, and how at least one other person has noticed that "the Wednesday people" look out for each other. We have gotten to a point where people can honestly share what they want us to pray for or celebrate- everything from upcoming surgery, or trouble at work, to prayers for tests in school, or fear about high school orientation.

We have had to remind ourselves that the concerns of all ages are worthy of being heard, but have also been able to be a support for those kids who come without adults but are drawn into our midst and we also can laugh together, and give hugs.

So on Wednesday nights, for about an hour and a half, we step out of the busy-ness and into a place where we are fed. And where I pray we continue to strengthen and grow in our own faith and together.

I titled this post "turning the tables"- in part because that is the first thing that happens to prepare our fellowship room for Table Church. But also because we are turning the tables on expectations of what is worship. Our time is decidedly relaxed, and a little chaotic when little kids are hungry. And when people are strolling in late, but the shape of faithful worship is there and there are people who are ready to light those candles, be readers, and serve as wine stewards. And with the exception of the wine, most of those are kids and people new to faith community- turning the tables on what we sometimes do which is to decide who is worthy, and who we will ask, and who will "do it right." And which prayers are the right ones.

And we turn the tables on what it means to share in the body- when you have turned and handed bread to someone, saying- "this is the body of Christ, given for you"  or have made the cross on someone's head and reminded them they are a child of God or have prayed with someone on a personal level- it turns the tables on incarnational community. "With us" and "for you"  are not just words we say, in a rote way- they are intimate.

The way I know this level of connection happens here is not only that I see changes in the group interaction, but when someone will be away, they say so- because it is important to them, and they believe it is important to the rest of us. Turning the tables on commitment and healthy accountability, and the common world vision that we are all just individuals moving through life.

So if you find yourself in our part of God's world on a Wednesday around 6- stop in- there's always a place at God's table- with us, for you.

The Power to be God's Church

Last week we were on vacation in Finland, which turns out to be an incredibly diverse place. Sitting in the train station I had one of the closest experiences to Pentecost I could imagine, hearing Finnish, Norwegian, Russian, Spanish, Chinese, and French, and probably other languages I didn’t even detect, all swirling at the same time. But what I really needed was someone who could help me in my language. Last Sunday in worship I tried to sing along to hymns in Finnish, but I had no idea what I was saying. I only picked out a few words- Hosanna, Jesus, amen. My friend Elise translated some of the sermon, but it was bits and pieces. And I really got a sense of what it meant to understand in one’s own language when I could not. The only thing I knew for sure was the body of Christ given for you and the blood of Christ shed for you at communion.

After worship, we met the pastor and learned the church’s history. It is called the Old Church. But originally it had no name. When the Tzar of Russia ruled the area, he decided people would be Lutheran and ordered a cathedral be built on the highest point in town. That church now is the National Cathedral. But while it was being built, there still needed to be A church-so this other church was built. But for years on maps it was identified only as "temporary church." Because it was only going to be the church until they built the real one. Like somehow God wouldn’t empower that place and those people.

After the cathedral was built, this wooden framed church remained active. The cathedral became the New Church, this other became the Old Church. Perhaps to the surprise of some. The painting behind its altar depicts Jesus blessing children. It was originally intended for the New Church but the tzar thought it too juvenile. Jesus creating family seemed not weighty enough. So it was placed at the temporary church. It wasn’t OK for the real church, but it was fine here. Like God wouldn’t use that art to show faith.

Despite not being the “real” church, now several hundred years later, both the Old Church, and the New Church are still there, as part of 5 churches in the Helsinki parish. Committed to a mission to make God’s love known and extend God’s family. A statement not so much about which people or which church, but a lot about the power of the Spirit!

And The Lutheran Church of Finland today works hard to produce resources not only in Finnish, but in the languages of the many others who have come to live there in a book called “To be a Christian.” Spanish, French, German, Russian, Chinese and more-languages through which to communicate God in ways others understand. Because this is God’s mission. It’s impressive.

But at the same time, the pastor of the Old Church explained that after worship they now have "Sharing time." It’s new. They gather chairs in a circle and invite people to stay for conversation and to learn each other's names. Because among the 100 or so people who worship on Sunday mornings, they don’t know each other well. They tolerate the children, and the old woman with dementia with food in her hair, and the young professionals, but they don’t connect. It seems that Finns are not big on asking each other first names. And since the city has changed so much, the old ways don’t work so well. The Old Church cannot be the Same Old Church.

When people keep to themselves, it’s hard to form community or talk about what it means to be Christians. The Pastor’s idea was seen as really shaking things up. No one apparently thought he was drunk when he announced it, but I was told that he was not raised Lutheran. It turns out before he was a Lutheran pastor he was … Pentecostal.

These experiences point up the dynamic we find ourselves in at times- we’re not sure what to consider temporary or permanent, old or new. In our wrestling with this, we don’t always really connect with each other. It’s like we speak different languages. We can look right past each other and past now, believing at times we know how God will act. Or that some other time past or future is what really matters.

In the end, those considerations turn out to say a lot about us and not really much about the grace and love of Jesus Christ or the power of the Holy Spirit we celebrate this day.

We live knowing Jesus has risen and will come again. But we live now. And in this time, we are really all temporary churches. But like the disciples we’re promised  the Holy Spirit to help us live out the mission. To be God’s church now.

Because living in the movement of things are constantly changing is not the easiest thing. The Book of Acts calls what happened that Pentecost a miracle. The fact that everyone could understand, each in their own way was a miracle. In all the languages of our lives, we hope to be understood and loved but how we communicate can seem like we’re really all speaking different languages. It’s just as likely that we and those around us imagine being able to connect with God and to be understood, and living in all this change takes nothing short of a miracle.

Into this place God sends the Spirit. And it starts with prayer.

What happened that day 3000 alone came to believe and the church began to spread, started with prayer. Those disciples gathered in the room were not all alike. Or inherently gifted. They came from different perspectives, not always seeing eye to eye, waiting for Jesus, but not quite sure what’s coming next or what to make of it. And really by nature not of one mind. But when they gathered and prayed, God entered.  The promised power of the Spirit came in prayer. And I suspect not as they expected. Coming to and working through all kinds of people, with wind blowing and fire flaming, and amidst them the voice of God stirring it up. The power of God transcended it all as those languages burst forth and people began to understand God’s language- love for all. That is still God’s mission.

We are a part of this chapter of God’s power and mission. Sometimes we talk about figuring out the church’s mission.

I think Pentecost reorients that conversation. God has a mission-go and make disciples of all nations, draw people into relationship. This is God’s mission. The gift of the Holy Spirit is not a mission. God doesn’t give the church a mission. God gives the mission a church. And gives us the power and a place in it. To be what God’s wants here and now. Even when it feels temporary, uncertain, unpredictable, or unfamiliar.

And God gives us a language of love, power and grace. And the connection to it all is prayer. Part of why I shared the stories of Finland is I saw connections to this place. In the history of God in this place, the Spirit blew and people were convinced that there would be a Sunday school. But then, not just a Sunday school chapel, but a real church. And the Spirit has continued to blow, using a rich variety of people and ways to help people grow in Christian faith and unity. Not to make us all be the same, or speak the same, but to draw us together in the Spirit as God’s family in all its diversity. And I continue to be amazed at the work of the Spirit in and through you!  We’re a small group through which God affects many. Young and old, new and long time, and everything in between. God’s Spirit is still moving, bringing power. My prayer is that God continues to stir us to be the Church that dares to call itself the Church of the Holy Spirit-reminded of our mission and the gift of community, proclaiming the Good news of God’s love, power and grace.

And I pray this will be our prayer -together.     

The Table is getting bigger

As we did last year, we again gathered this year during Lent for an evening meal fellowship on Wednesday nights. Not very creatively named “Table Church.” Simple and it’s what we do. We gather at 6 with the idea of “bring a munchie, bring a friend.” To gather for the meal, fellowship, discussion and prayer all shared around the table. Last year we had 6 people the first week but had 20 by the end of Lent. And we talked about continuing a mid-week evening gathering but for slot of reasons we never really got there. This year we again gathered during Lent and our focus was prayer.

We gather and use an opening litany that is in some ways informed by the practice of St Lydia’s in New York, but is clearly our version. Each week I move tables into the shape of a cross and put out simple fabric table covers. Some are things I have found in our church where nothing was ever thrown away. Some came from the fabric wholesaler where one of our participants works. And I also have some mirror tiles upon which we will place tealight candles. There is a cross in the center and bread on the table. As I am setting the space I pray for the gathering and those who have been coming, and those the Spirit may decide in her wisdom to send.

As people come, some of those present hand out candles, or copies of our one page worship guide. We gather to change our hearts and minds and to recognize God’s presence and we admit those times we’ve been too busy or self focused to be who God desires. Sometimes we sing. Sometimes we don’t. But then we bless our bread and share the body of Christ. And we have a wine steward and grape juice steward who serve after which we bless our drink as the blood of Christ for us. Then we eat! Some weeks we have way too much food. Some weeks we have just enough. And we have to remember that the really tasty thing we ate must wait until everyone else had a chance.

That can be hard. Because unlike last year when our table mates were pretty much our insiders, this year, our table mates are a lot of kids and new faces from the neighborhood. And some are here for a week, some for the long haul. And some are really hungry, others have a sense of food insecurity. And life insecurity. And some people are lonely and hungry for people time.

Over the weeks of Lent I focused our time around prayer having just read the book “Help, Thanks, Wow” by Anne Lamott. For an intergenerational gathering where people come from many levels of connection to faith, it seemed that demystifying what we call one of the Lenten disciplines could help all of us.

Each week I read a snippet from Anne’s book and offered a little reflection and then we broke into groups. Those who wanted to do an interactive thing, and those who wanted to chat. Our interactive time would be spent in an arty way. One week when we talked about how we ask God for help, I talked about how hard it can be to then let go of our worry and let God handle it. We made God boxes. Cigar boxes decorated with tissue paper, or decals, glitter, paint-whatever spoke to you. And we talked about putting our prayers in the box. The kids had a great time and a couple weeks later a couple told me they are really using them. J

The week we talked about thanks we then dipped fingers in water and made the sign of the cross on our neighbor telling him or her “ you are a child of God.”

The week we talked about “wow!” a couple people brought things to share that showed their “wow” and their art taught us.

The next week we made Busted Crosses. Hollowed out wooden cross forms that people could decorate with markers and then hot glue repurposed stain glass pieces and shattered CD pieces and make a sort of mosaic. We talked about how though we can feel broken, God makes us a new creation in the cross. And even though we may not think it is possible, beautiful things happen. In us.

During Holy Week we put together the items for personal care kits for Lutheran World Relief that the congregation gathered. Our goal had been 12 but we made 28 and have other supplies to share with those in need here. Including some of our own. And we thought about what it means to say Amen-may it be so-to our prayers.

All of our interactive things show that no matter how old our hands are, they can work and teach together.

The other part of each week was to close with prayer. First we wrote our prayers and I prayed them. Then we wrote our prayers and each person prayed their own. Then we tried just saying our prayers out loud around the table and letting the next person know it was their turn. I have begun gathering the written prayers if people allow and have turned a bulletin board by our tables into a prayer wall. Other people in the church are starting to notice it.

There is a chaotic-ness but also a grace. And at the end of Lent I was curious as to who was coming because it was Lent, and who came because it was Wednesday, and who wanted to keep coming. Of the 24 there, half said they wanted to go on. So we did. And I expected about 12 last nite. But I put out a new sign “Candy Gone? Christ is still risen-meal prayer 6:00” Then I watched.

The kids and young adults and our other neighbors came and we had 26! I actually worried about food but it worked out. I had decided we would talk about those early Christians and the challenge of making disciples. Of getting beyond fear. But really instead, while I ended up saying that, I talked about growing pains. People of all kinds having to find a way to get together and share and learn and build relationships.  As literally, people were elbow to elbow, and we had added an extra table, and one girl was getting hung up on the table cloth and every time she got up her friends were telling her to stop pulling their stuff away. And someone else discovered that all the meat stuff had pork and he doesn’t like pork, and someone took that deviled egg you wanted, and why are we out of juice and now there is only water? And I wanted to light the candles…and we could chuckle and see ourselves in the book of Acts or in those famous words in Corinthians.

And some of us worked at planting a tomato planter with one of our people who is a retired horticulturalist. And we talked about tending a small area where we hope to grow a little of our own food. Others played “Two truths and a lie” and shared what they learned about each other. And we prayed and got a sweet treat or leftover Easter candy for the road.

And in the end as people are making sure we have it next week, which makes my heart smile, I wonder. Just what is God up to? And I am not sure I need to know. I just need to keep praying and showing up. And whether it is here for a season or good, it is what God wants.

But next week, God, can you send some chicken? I know a few people are praying for that, at least inside.

 

Proclaiming Jesus-God's Power Rising Out of the Hurt

Here in the city we have an afterschool ministry three days a week, offering a safe place for kids to get a hot meal after school, get help with their homework, work on literacy, and sometimes do crafts and games. Last year we were averaging about 45 kids a day and another 30 kids on top of that, who did not come for the program but came to pick up weekender bags of groceries we distribute one day a week.
Last year we found we needed more space and moved the program from a row house by the church into the basement of the church with a larger kitchen and more space.
This year when we opened our doors, and by day 2 we had 60 kids. By the second week we had to cut it off at 70 but between others coming who we could not accept and a few kids we had to ask to leave for behavioral reasons we could have been at 90.
When we had hit 60 kids on day 2, I literally went into re-think mode with our volunteer director and we grew again, moving into another room of the basement. We are now in all of the rooms of the basement.
And we are scrambling everywhere for volunteers but God is gracing us in many ways.
This is all the backdrop for what I really wanted to write about.

One of the strengths of our ministry is that we offer something different than the street and in some cases, offer something different than home. We know that sadly there are many reasons why the kids bond heavily with us- some are starved for attention as much as for food. Some have no role models for how to get along in the world. Sadly I can look at some and see their future stretching out in front of me and know it will involve jailtime, teen pregnancy or substance abuse.
But most of the kids we see are delightful, and funny and loving and trying hard to get by in school.
A few of our kids are gifted academically or are real models of leadership in places like JROTC or the arts.
These are the things that sometimes surprise others-
just like it is easy to assume what means to live in the city, we can fall into a pattern of thinking we know what city people are like. And when you live here it is easy to succumb to the belief that only certain things are possible. Or only certain people can be trusted and quickly people fall into defensive or offensive strategies. These are the things that our neighborhood kids learn.
Some learn that yelling and fighting are the answer. Some learn that lying and accusing are a good way to avoid things. And in groups of 60, this means we have to try hard to reinforce why the culture of this place is different.
Last week a small group of kids began to gather around one young girl. I have watched her almost patrolling the neighborhood. She is fiesty and bossy and physically confrontational. More importantly she has the capacity to get others to do her bidding.
Last week as she had left on our grocery distribution day, she came back to the door and demanded I find her little brother because she had forgotten him. I suggested she walk to the other door where people were not lined up to get groceries and others could help her. She began yelling and encouraging her posse to yell at me. She and another girl held up a cell phone and demanded that unless I left what I was doing to find this boy she was calling 911 to say I had kidnapped him. I laughed it off and sure enough he came out from around the corner from the door I had said would be the place to go.
I have watched this girl shakedown others for things she wants and at 10 years of age, she has well developed patterns and minions to help her.
Fast forward to this week when I could not be at the program on a rainy day but was called and told that outside the building of the church there had been a big fight. Where kids were holding down a boy so that this same dominant girl could hit him. The noise had made a local mom go to the window to see what was going on only to see that it was her son being hit. She came out and the fight broke up. But needless to say there was a lot of commotion and emotion as she came to our volunteers and wanted to know what had happened. And at least two moms were furious with each other about what had happened.

Of course the challenge was, while these were all kids from the program. The fight happened outside and just down the street, not inside. And we had not seen it all go down. But following the policy we had put into place, the director called the adult contact for each of the kids connected with the fight and invited them to a meeting the next day. The goal was that each kid would come with his or her parent or guardian and we would talk about what happened and who was involved in what way and what it all meant.
The moms connected with the victim, and those seen as holding the victim came.
No one came connected with the girl who was the hitter.
There we were with the three kids and the two moms, the volunteer director and myself as the pastor.
Since the moms are Hispanic and this was an emotional subject, English quickly turned into Spanish as the mom of the boy who was hit and then the boy himself talked about what happened. Then the mom of the other two kids began to talk and to ask questions first of the boy, but then quickly turning to her own two kids and demanding them to tell the truth. She told them she would not punish them for telling the truth but that they needed to be honest.
What emerged was that they had been with this aggressive girl and another larger boy who was not connected with our program but was known to the girl. That when the physical confrontation began the one kid was trying to break it apart and the other was trying to keep the victim from responding with aggression. That it all went down fast and that it was too big for them. That they had not realized what would happen.
I pushed a little bit on this and reminded the one girl of the events of the week before, pointing out that when she was not with this aggressive girl, she was a totally different person. That I was saddened to see who she became and that it would not be a path she should choose.
Both of the moms knew of the aggressive girl and shared other stories of bad connected with her, how they have told their kids to stay clear and this is why.
At this point the mom of the two kids confessed that she had no idea when she signed her daughter and son up that our program was at a church, but that as a believer she now was embarrassed. She spoke of having been in a bad car accident and being brought back to life and how she promised God she would live because she knew there was something she was to do. And how it was a blessing that while this was hard, God brought her here.
She and the other mom commisserated about being single moms and both looked at their kids and told them- these people are doing great things for us because they are Christians- they are doing this because of Jesus. You all need to apologize and remember that we are not going to act like this. They pushed hard, almost too hard, as the kids have tears in their eyes.
I turned to the bookcase behind me and picked up the cross sitting there. I held it up and told the kids that things went down fast and we all make mistakes but what matters most is what this cross means- forgiveness because God loves us. That I wanted each of them to be there and to be the really great people I know God has made them to be. And that this cross is also about the power of peace.
Transformative love was taking shape.
The two moms not only were no longer ready to take each other on, but had connected.
We talked about how our neighborhood is not the place people assume it is, and does not have to be the place some want to make it be. That this is an opportunity to think about how we walk together and with Jesus to make it be the place it ought to be.
We stood up to end our meeting and as we did, the door opened and in came the aggressive girl with four kids in tow but no adult. The moms looked at her and said
"We're done here, let's not revisit all this again."
We reminded the girl that to be here she needed to have an adult. That when we could sit with her and an adult, she could return and that we hoped that was possible.
She was escorted out.
I really wish she could return but without adult buy-in, my fourteen months of knowing her suggest there is not great hope otherwise.
Sometimes when I have said that we could reach out to the parents, aunts, uncles and grandparents of these kids, there has been trepidation, a kind of "if you think so" that belies lack of trust by our volunteers. We're not sure perhaps that we should. While in some cases this reaching out is not possible or fruitful, God showed that for us to use the broadbrush approach that keeps others as recipients of our benevolence and not co-workers in the kingdom, means we miss out on a part of the amazingly transformative power of that cross.
As we stood to end our time and before I could ask, one of the moms asked if we could all hold hands and pray. What a perfect way to solidify where we had been and who now united us.
As the kids went down to the program, we talked about our vision and hopes and about how they might be helping hands as they were able, not only because they now have a more connected interest, but because we have others who need to hear, and how some of those need to have people they can culturally relate to. I apologized that my speaking of Spanish is not as quick as my understanding what I read or hear.
"Oh Pastor, we help you. This is how we can help you."
We talked about worship and their desire to come, but also the possibility of developing an informal Wednesday night worship time that connected with the ending time of our afterschool program.
We talked about how to share this vision in their respective parts of the neighborhood and the power of women to nurture change rather than be victims. And to demand more. I am reminded of Leymah Gbowee's work- "Pray the Devil Back to Hell."

This fall I wondered why now the sky rained kids, then I wondered why this violence, but out of this I am increasingly convinced that God is breaking open something new. Healing and hope and promise.

There will still be violent kids, but my prayer is that we won't just turn away or yell about it.
We are going to proclaim Jesus into it.
Together.
Step by step, trusting in God's work in all of us.

A Strange New Holy Space

For the last couple months I have been in a kind of writing wilderness. There are many reasons why, starting with the fact that writing about Chick #2 graduating and the nest thinning out being too fresh to process. Or it could be the ridiculous schedule of my own creation that took me many places over the summer that were too close in proximity for me to breathe. Or it could be that this was followed by the sending off both girls to college interspersed with a festival of funerals. And my general uncertainty about who I was blogging for, what was blog-worthy or how to filter what would be shared. I have been grateful for those who have encouraged me to simply write for myself and decide how to do that and in what context. I have also been grateful for those who found my musings helpful, comforting or a-musing. And I am now trying to work toward setting aside time for writing each day, along with that time for praying and exercising and spending time with loved ones, both two and four-legged, and occasionally experimental cooking. I am not really a routine building person so it is hard to say how long this will last. Rather than try to decide if this will be writing about life in ministry, life in the neighborhood, life in general, sermons, reflections or whatever, in this "post-children, still new ministry and new neighborhood" phase, it will be whatever it is. All of that is frankly a lighthearted entry leadup to what led me to start writing again today. Which is one of those moments where my first life and second life have full-on collided in a way that makes me stand back and ponder.

In my pre-seminary life I was a band Mom and  lawyer in addition to spending alot of time in church.
And in the band Mom role I got to knowing some very strong and talented ladies one of whom works as a first responder.
In my seminary life when I worked as a chaplain at the Large Trauma Center in Amish Country, sometimes our paths would cross in the ER as she brought in patients and I was meeting families. And our conversations would perhaps be brief as we both were in the midst of doing what we do, each of us believing the other person had the really hard role. And even when some people were not quite sure about the whole change to seminary thing, she was always a big support. And in her medical role there was no one else I would want to fix my problems. We once even both showed up at an accident scene, me on my way to work at the hospital and her with the ambulance knowing full well we might see each other again later that night.
Since then I have moved on, literally to another county in my first call and once Chick#2 graduated it seemed that our only contact might be virtual, and in a sense it is.
But my friend's Mom is terribly unwell and out of the blue I got a text asking if she could text me because she is in a place she has never been before. That place is not the hospital, but the place where your Mom is dying and you cannot fix it. With all of the knowledge and skill in the world, still powerless.
The journey from a visit to the hospital for an unusual day has careened wildly across the last few weeks to a diagnosis of cancer, to hospice paperwork and in the last couple days, from talking to silence. It is unreal. And in such a place no matter how many people are helping there is a vacuum.
And from two counties away was a request to pray.
But because she did not want to disturb Mom, all of this had been by txt.
And so, believing in the power of God to work in any medium, I texted prayer.
For a person whose whole life as a caregiver was not enough for this sadness.

O Lord we are at the limits of our power to help. We place ________ in your hands.
For what you have helped us to do, we give thanks. Give strength for what must be done by others and shelter us in your peace which surpasses our understanding.
We thank you for the gifts of love and companionship ___ gave which are greater than words can express. With the faithful of every time and place we place ourselves in your hands and put our trust in you
and ask you to meet us in our sorrow.
We have done what we can in hope, in sorrow and in love.
Embrace ______ and each person who loves her. Encompass us with your grace.
We cannot see how we can travel this road, but give us faith to know your hand is leading us
And your love supporting us.
Help us to watch and to wait.
Thank you for allowing us to come in anger and pain, and bitterness,
knowing you love us still and never turn away.
Light our path and may you send your hope and love
in the hands and feet and voices of all who enter here.
Thank you for ____, ___'s daughter, and for her fierce determination and love
She has been a blessing.
Be with her now.
We give this all to you Lord in the name of Jesus Christ our light and hope.
Amen

And even though we are still two counties away and so often we consider our electronic media to be impersonal, the Spirit willed two old buddies the moment that was needed. And while I would not have thought it possible, it really did feel like prayer, not just data- a strange new holy space.

The Story of Table Church continues....

It’s been awhile since I have talked about Table Church- a grand experiment in community and worship at Holy Spirit. Each week during Lent, there was a different focus to the time together, but overall it was intended to be relaxed and open- porous, if you will. Easy to enter and exit. After the opening weeks of setting the tone, and then talking about fellowship of the table, we moved into weeks where we talked about praying together, confessing together, and some core understandings about communion together.

Each week I provided a jumping off point for those gathered to engage over the mealtime.

For example the week we discussed praying together, I amplified our usual prayer practice. Each week I handed out slips of paper to people and pens so that after we cleared the table we could spend time in prayer together based upon the concerns of the community. We would pass an offering plate and gather the prayers. Then I would take a moment and organize them around general themes of thanksgiving, the world, people in need, etc. We would open by singing the Taize song- “O Lord Hear my Prayer” three times and then I would pray the prayer and we would again sing at the end of the prayers and share together in the Lord’s Prayer. But one week, I asked groups of people to pick a person to pray the prayers of the group. Each group had been given a paper- one said “God, you are….” Another said “We thank you that…” Another said “ We ask that you…” The groups were asked to discuss the ways they would complete these as a way of opening up that prayer does not follow a rigid formula- it can be that simple. Then one person from each group read the prayer they had created as we prayed together.

In the week we talked about confession as being something we share in worship, but that in community we should be able to go to a sister or brother and ask for them to hear us and help us see God in situations, we opened with a common youth group ice breaker- “Two Truths and a Lie.” People were broken into four groups and each person was asked to state two true things and one not true thing about themselves but not say which was which and the group had to guess. This was interesting because many people struggled with what they were willing to say about themselves. This gets at the heart of a tension in community- the “me” we present and our worries about how we would be received. Some people were not so sure they would tell another person something in a moment of confession. Others were honest enough to say they were not sure they would really engage this with God. In my practice of the Examen,  I try to lift up both that we can come to God with these things and look for God’s work and guidance in them. Perhaps when we have those moments we accept that God loves us for the “us” we really are, we might then be more able to be Christ for someone else in their need.  Perhaps seeing another’s need, allows God to speak to us in ours.

One week I handed out different colored slips of paper as people were preparing to sit down, and asked that they sit with the other people who had that same color paper. This was a way to mix up the patterns of socializing. Being creatures of habit, we all tend to form groups, but then those groups start to be fixed. Once in the groups I asked each group to talk about what would make a dinner or a party- great? What makes a gathering a good one? People spent most of their time on the food and the decorations, and the theme. Not much time on the people. How fascinating to see a pattern we can experience in church. We spend a lot of time focusing upon the music, the flowers, the building, but not so much on the needs of people. But there was some conversation about people- we would invite friends and relatives. We might tell friends to bring others. But then one group said- well, not all the relatives- just the ones we like. And not just any friends- yeah.  As each group read their responses, this group went last. Their honesty got the group talking and knowingly laughing.

We don’t really want just anyone. So what does that say about communion- a meal and a celebration? Jesus is the host and the center of an amazing celebration in the Meal- how do we see it?

Some people chafed at the notion that communion is a celebration- it should be solemn and we should remember what Jesus did for us. Yes, but how is it also something we celebrate? This was food for thought too.

Our last week, I provided all of the food and just encouraged people to come. We talked about what the early Christians would have been eating, or not. We talked about how each week we had people who only got there when they could, not unlike the early church- and how we like the early church Paul writes to needed to make sure that all were being fed and drawn into the table. We talked about what it meant to really rub elbows together- I made sure the tables were set close- not like we might sit in church. After all our weeks together- how would it feel to hear- One of you will hand me over?  

In our earlier week, people had said for the sake of a party going well they would accommodate that there might be some foods they don’t like or music they don’t like or people they are not really fond of, because the most important thing was the party. What had we learned to adjust to accommodate the fact that we may not all like the same things, but were gathered around a central thing, a person- Jesus the Christ? 

I asked for feedback about the experience from those who had been regulars and the newcomers that night. The notion of gathering, blessing our bread and wine/grape juice, breaking the bread and sharing it, sharing a meal, and fellowship, studying together and praying together.

"It was relaxing." At the end of the day, people found more and more that while they came in with their stresses, they became relaxed.

As something we did week to week, people found some weeks they did not have time to prepare an elaborate thing to share for the meal, and it was still all OK.

It was a different way to worship- acoustic music, no bulletins, no printed music to figure out. But it felt like worship. It was open to strangers.  One person noted that more people would like it but might be intimidated because it was an unknown thing. Others agreed, and then the person said- "But I guess it’s up to us to be the messengers." Exactly!!

Then I invited people to consider that for those who have not been to church lately or maybe not really ever, that feeling of fear of the unknown- what is on the other side of the door- is the same. But we can be the messengers.

Another person suggested we continue this kind of worship at some level, perhaps once a month. When asked for thoughts, everyone else was in agreement. I explored what day or time would be best. Overwhelmingly the response was that Wednesday night was best- it was a kind of middle of the week refresher between Sundays.

So those of us who have gone on the grand adventure of trying a new thing, and making some tweaks on the way, are going to try another new thing starting in later in May.  

And as we prepared to end our time in prayer, someone commented that our time could be more intimate if the overhead lights were not so bright. If we just had the candles. A request for something more intimate!

I turned out the overheads lights so we could just have the candles. We ended our time at the table, with just the glow of the light of lots of tiny votives, and the cross, holding hands in prayer, and then singing:
Go now in peace.
Go now in peace.
May the love of God surround you.
May the love of God surround you.
Every where
Everywhere
You may go.
You may go.

Stay tuned…