Ref-lectionary thoughts-Messengers

God's messengers are a quirky bunch. In this week's lectionary readings, we see Amos, who is as stunned as we are that he is to be God's messenger. "I prune trees, and play in the dirt.I am not anyone of consequence or obvious skill, no matter what scale you use to evaluate me." Yet he was called by God to be a messenger, and to tell others in power, to how to prune away what was not life-giving and how to nurture and grow that straighter, stronger tree. The tree which could sustain all living things perhaps. The most effective pruning is what allows a tree to survive, to avoid blight and disease, or collapse. Pruning takes a good eye, and a strong hand to make a clean cut. A sloppy cut can actually do even more harm instead of the good intended. Pruning seems counterintuitive- why would cutting back something thriving lead to better growth? Pruning takes being deliberate, slow thinking before acting, to discern what should grow. Amos told things that the people needed to hear, but hard to imagine we would listen if God sent a landscaper to tell us today.
Then there is Paul in our epistle. How could someone who revelled and excelled in prosecutorial incisiveness be a messenger for the Jesus message? And to top it off, some historians talk about Paul as being slight of build, and not all that great as a public speaker. How could a guy with "short man syndrome" be the point person for a message? Yet what better person to have dogged persistence is "prosecuting" the case for Jesus? He was a person who was figuratively pruned and re-oriented who could tell others of the miraculous experience of it all. What greater example than the total role reversal of Paul? And in the end, we do not revere him for his public speaking anyway, but for the marvelous weaving of ideas and arguments in his writings. And we don't know what his thorn is, but what if it was something that would make us not want to look at him or be in his company? What if he had Tourette's syndrome, for example? How likely is it that in our media saturated world today, a short guy with a whiny voice and some off-putting feature, who is better in print, would be a person we would be drawn to as God's messenger?
And we can't overlook John the Baptizer. Everything we are told leads us to believe that John may well be the subject of a mental health commitment hearing today. He seemed to lack a good sense of self-care. He lived beyond civilization, eating bugs, and gleaning, eschewing all conventions when it came to clothing. Engaging in what may have seemed like rants in the wilderness rather than speeches. Thinking outside the box in every way- telling people to come to the river, not the temple for purification. Encourgaing people to engage in an exodus back into the wilderness and away from their conventions. Challenging people to radically re-orient- and living out this radical re-orientation in every way. Yet not content to be radical in the wilderness alone, but challenging others to make clear the path and to strip away the things that were in the way of right being. Would we listen to a John today or would we try to make him the subject of reality TV, or a viral video?
As I look at each of these messengers, they are not carefully packaged, media savvy folks. Each of them in their time are not obvious PR men for a message. Yet each of them embodies their message. And there is a thread in their message- we as humans so often continue to add new practices, new requirements, and trappings to a simple message. Though we all profess to yearn for the simple life, we are incapable of being sustained in it. When the commandments were given, the people were told that they should neither add to nor take away from God's commands.
Yet we do. And time and again, we need a reminder to prune, to reorient, even to reverse. As I think about Amos, Paul and John, I wonder what it would have been like to be in their midst. I wonder how much easier it is to look back with that 20/20 hindsight and sit in judgment of others then who heard them, and their lack of response to the messenger. And then I wonder whether there is a messenger in our midst that I am ignoring because he or she doesn't meet the criteria of someone I should listen to, someone equally foolish to be chosen, whom God has selected for all of the right reasons. But while I ponder this I continue to be amazed that we are all given unique qualities that in a given time and context God can and will use. And maybe while there are the occasional figures larger than life who are messengers, it would be better to remember that each of us is necessary and integral in ways we only sometimes realize. In between the big moments of the message are all of the little echoes that can be spoken through each of our lives if we stop jamming The Messenger who created us all for just such work.

Suspending Belief

We've known him all of his life- isn't he Joseph's son? In the gospel reading for this Sunday this is the loud slamming of the door of minds and hearts, in people who have decided that someone who looks like Jesus, or comes from "that family" or already has been destined to be a laboring tradesman, couldn't possibly be- learned, articulate, authoritative, insightful. In today's world, would we recognize this Jesus? As the plumber, the factory worker, the guy who runs the bodega on the corner?
For 30 years here in this town, where we all know each other, we've known him and his family- that gaggle of kids, how many are there- at least five. Poor and unremarkable, immigrants perhaps. It is a challenge to suspend our beliefs.
We know who the leaders are, which are the "right" families.
Long ago we pegged him and settled his future, and we have never expected much.
You mean he's bright? Talented?
How ironic that this reading falls on the weekend when we in this country celebrate Independence Day in a country that was settled and founded on the notion that a man or woman can be defined by what he or she becomes, not by who his or her family, or town of origin is. We wax eloquently about the story of Horatio Alger. I wonder if we really believe it, either in secular society or sometimes in the church.
This reading isn't just about people in a Galilee far, far away. They are us.
How hard it is sometimes to mindful of the notion that God acts in and through many and varied people. How easy to bestow that "lack of honor."
And Jesus was amazed at their unbelief, or perhaps a better translation, is "their lack of faith." Lack of faith in whom God can dwell in, act through and use.
On a surface level I can take heart that like myself, the historic Jesus was a second career guy- leaving a perfectly good trade for some new calling. IN my small town, it was hard for people who had already defined me by what I did, to see God act in a new way. And of course the disciples were second career guys too.
Yet, on a deeper level, in this season of Pentecost in which we contemplate discipleship and what it means to be church, I am pondering how each of us can lapse into the pattern of believing we know and decide who God's children are, and how they will be used. Do we lapse at times into patterns that function as self-prescribed limits on who can teach, proclaim, heal lives and transform hearts? God in Christ was in our midst and yet it took sending the disciples out to perform the miracles on this occasion because of a lack of faith in how things ought to be.
Yet, even the disciples deserve a closer look- reading again what they were NOT to take with them, they were sent out as hungry, dirty, unemployed, penniless homeless men, who had been wearing that same stinky tunic for days.
Seen in this perhaps more earthy yet realistic light, it makes their ability to teach, proclaim, heal lives and transform hearts an even more amazing demonstration of God's power and ability. In some ways it takes suspending belief both in this story and in the ultimate story of Christ's demonstration of power- at the foot of the cross- hungry, dirty, abandoned, stripped even of that dirty tunic.
As we look around our congregations and our communities, perhaps we need a reminder that God works through many more varieties of people than just the ones we might destine or determine to be great teachers,preachers and disciples. Of what will God be amazed- our recognition or our unbelief?

Toby is in Residence

This winter I experienced the demise of Buddy the beloved beagle in a very unfortunate stroke in my presence. The Lutheran Chicks were lobbying soon thereafter for a new dog. Honestly, I had neither the physical nor mental energy after Buddy's death. But I swore we would revisit this after the end of the semester.
We are a dog-rescuing family- both of our previous very special pets have been rescued. First there was Stirling who was found freezing on the city streets on Christmas Eve and rescued. She was on her last day at the shelter when I showed up "just to look." Stirling was a pointer mix who chewed her way through many things because my Beloved and I were uneducated dog owners. The recliner, the remote, and the first crate all met her wrath, and our deck was almost unearthed by enthusiastic digging. But She was devotedly with us for 13 years.
Buddy the beagle had owners who gave him no indoor shelter for his first four years- he came to us through the grapevine and spent almost seven years of his life with a loving family even with his special needs.
So we were waiting. And the kids were determined, but so was I- it would be wrong to adopt a dog who would then spend all day in a crate. The waiting paid off and a three young beagle pointer dogs were rescued from a high kill shelter by a local rescue group. Thus led us to Castaway Critters who scoops up pets from such shelters and fosters them until they can find their forever home. Ironically, Toby was less than a mile from us and being fostered by a professional acquaintance of mine.
Ironically, if our first and second dogs had mated, the offspring might look like Toby.
So we are back to world of barking because another dog is barking, face licking at 5 AM because it is "Walk time" and remembering that when you give a dog a sock toy, all socks become fair game.
Life is good.

Traveling at the Speed of Light

Where have the last two years gone? Two years ago I was stressing about whether I could learn Greek and whether I could master the "going back to school" thing. Two years ago I was preparing for my entrance interview. And I had discovered a fellow blogger Prepare Ye who was also headed to LTSG.
Two years ago I was finishing up most of a law practice and contemplating how I would coordinate everything so the commuter seminarian/wife/mother/lawyer thing would be managed with precision.
Two years ago seems like yesterday.
It does not seem possible that I would have now completed teaching parish, CPE, the speed-dating of internship matching, and now team building with my supervisor the last couple of days, having the most affirming and enriching time, wondering why my start date is two months away (knowing I should enjoy this time of waiting).
Two years ago I had no idea I would learn to drive so frequently on auto-pilot, or that I would set up and tear down a room for one night, 27 times, or drive about 11 hours each week.
Two years ago, if you told me I would learn to skim enormous books and then write a 15 page paper in short order, discuss the difference between orthodoxy and orthopraxy, and have about 200 books more than I did before, I would not have believed you.
Two years ago, if you told me that at the end of team building I would be eating lunch with a potential commuter student and discussing the value of taking Greek first because of the rich nuances it would open up for preaching, professing that I still do the translation first,I would have laughed loud and long. Though for the benefit of any Greek instructors lurking on this blog (VH), I extol the virtues of Bibleworks with BDAG- also not on my horizon two years ago.
Two years ago, I weighed a little less, and my hair was a little less gray. But two years ago, I had not met some of the most amazing and amusing people, with whom we have all laughed, cried, gritted our teeth and ranted. And now we are the latest Lutheran diaspora- cast to the winds to inflict our burgeoning pastoral identities on unsuspecting congregations.
And as I looked around these last couple days, I think each vicar-to-be was transformed a little more before my eyes and I have a sense of promise for the future of the church. And I know that time will continue to fly and I will continue to be amazed about the things I thought I would never do.
And the truth is I could never do them.
There is no way that this journey could have happened in all its scary-ness and amazingness but for the work of the Spirit who early on showed me that every time I think I am managing this process, God laughs a belly-whopping laugh. We leave for journeys to learn if the gifts we think we have been given are affirmed, to receive new gifts needed- given in time and context- some will be easy and some will be hard gifts.
And we will return transformed.
So while we continue to travel at the speed of light, may the Light of Christ ever be with us.

Journey Back from the Wilderness

It has been almost two months since I last posted anything. Not because I had nothing to say, but because there was too much. And I confess that as I had started to learn who was reading my blog, I started to think about transparency (yes,I know that has become a new buzzword in politics, sorry). How much self-disclosure does one engage in? And I was slogging my way through a record number of credits in seminary with Psalter, Theology of Stewardship, Religion in America, Pastoral Theology of Cancer, Preaching the Gospel of Mark and an independent study on chaplaincy as ministry of healing. And driving back and forth to LTSG five days of the week, staying overnight one of them, I learned how quickly to set up and tear down a room, and at times it seemed that all that was missing was the manna.
And in the midst of all of that, two other things happened. I rejoiced as we discovered that our older daughter had developed enough coping strategies to stop taking her Concerta which improved her overall mood- the Concerta was triggering her depression. But then...
Our younger daughter developed panic attacks, that quickly escalated to include some obsessive tendencies and phobias. Thus began the vortex of doctor visits, cognitive behavioral therapy visits, and medication management. And every day waiting for the other shoe to drop. I became the person who could not turn off the cell phone during the day, ever. Realizing first hand what it means to remember self-care when the world is a maelstrom. And knowing that one of the triggers seems to be difficulty adjusting to the fact this "call" thing is becoming more real as I prepare for internship. Yet I am the person to whom she turns. And becoming keenly aware of the woefully inadequate coverage for mental health issues. I experienced my own Lenten journey living through good days, or hours, and those heart-wrenching troughs where my daughter is crying and shaking, and telling me she can't take it,yet through her tears telling me she longs to be better.
My own need to constantly "return to the Lord your God" even while I felt like the Israelites wandering in circles. My own need to confront the hidden-ness of God and to conclude that Luther is right- "asking why" will drive you mad. Look for Christ in the suffering of the cross. And to look for God in the miniscule. To take comfort in the things often overlooked in the rush of the busy-ness of life.
To learn to visualize handing over my daughter to God.
To seek out my friends and learn to be a better recipient of kindness.
But out of this feeling of wandering in the wilderness, has not only come this more poignant sense of daily living, but also in the midst of this the serenity that my calling is secure.
I have never felt that the answer to all of this would be to stop going to seminary, or delay internship, or to think that maybe this is a sign that I should not continue this journey even as my daughter told me that she thinks that there is a God, but God is not loving. That a loving God would not be able to allow the planet to be degraded, and people to suffer. That I therefore must be "crazy" to give up a perfectly good career as a lawyer for this.
And how dare I?
And I have done a lot of listening, to a 14 year old who is probably a better theologian than I. And by listening and not chastising, but discussing not "fixing" we continue this journey with her knowing that I am not changing the journey, but do not need her to embrace it. That I am here to help her deal with her stress, but am not captive to it.
But I give thanks that this is not just "my" issue. As a family we all have been engaged in the ways that we as a family share in helping each other, and share in responsibility for our home together. While the direction of the path is uncertain, whether this is short-term or the "rest of our lives," I give thanks that God is in our midst and active, especially in my husband and older daughter.
I give thanks that God has gifted our younger daughter with the ability to write and draw and create music, all of which are helping her. I give thanks that she trusts us enough to be honest, to talk and to still want that goodnight kiss.
And in the midst of all of this, where I truly had to decide what is important and what is not, God gave me the grace and strength to get through the "too busy" semester while learning a lesson about not doing that again. When you have as many as three appointments a week, and should carve out some self care as well, I can see how overfunctioning is the road to ruin. A learning which will come in handy as I head to internship.
And with the preaching/text discussion every other week, I got to feel what it is like to preach when exhausted (too many nights of 3-4 hours of sleep) and to preach the good news when it doesn't feel like there is much. And to preach about the person afflicted with demons, and picture one's own and to pray that it is God's will to release someone from something. I must admit I was not looking for any more character building experiences, but can see that everything I have been experiencing allows me to more fully appreciate the journey of others I will encounter.
And I know that the only way I have come this far is by the hand of God active in the lives of those who surround me.
Yesterday I watched another class at LTSG graduate and head out into the world, and realized that as all who would be leaving the Ridge should stand and be a part of the Farewell and Godspeed, that included me and my fellow interns, it is hard to believe that the journey has come this far. And no matter what...
"Surely it is God who saves me, I will trust in Him and not be afraid, for the Lord is my stronghold and my sure defense and He will be my Savior."

Pulpit in the Sky with Diamonds

Way too many things as usual in our world. I now know where I will be for my internship year- a church whose official name is- The Evangelical Lutheran Church of The Holy Trinity, more commonly just called "Trinity, Lancaster." For a full view of my internship world click here. There are many exciting and challenging things to consider and I am eager to begin, albeit a little nervous.
The pastors and staff have been a joy to meet. It is exhilirating to know that though the congregation has never had an intern, they are "thrilled" to have me there. And in my interaction with the various staff and volunteers, the excitement is indeed palpable. Having now had the tour of the sanctuary and the separate parish building, I am sure I will get lost a least once a day for awhile.
But I also believe that everyone there will simply smile and help me get oriented... again. The work of the church is extensive both locally and globally. There is much to see and to learn.

The church has been around since the early 1700's, and a Muhlenberg is involved, so truly there is a cloud of witnesses. There is actually a letter to the "pastor of the congregation" from Muhlenberg which is shared with each new pastor. The picture above depicts the view from the organ in the balcony to the pulpit which, when one stands in it, is almost level with the balcony. Behind the pulpit is a 16 foot mural of the Resurrected Christ. The congregation is used to a 25 minute sermon and the congregation library holds 3600 books which are theological- in other words, there is not a " DaVinci Code" in sight.
And as I stood in this pulpit, knowing the first date I will preach as the first vicar, gazing at the massive Bible in the pulpit, looking at the windows, one of which is by Louis Comfort Tiffany, I wonder- what does the cloud of witnesses think? Will the 16 foot Jesus come alive during my sermon and step down to say,"That's not what I meant!" when I am preaching?
So I think of the words I shared with a potential commuter student just a couple weeks ago. She asked, " How will I make this all happen?" I encouraged her to ponder instead, " How will God work through me to bring me to this new place?"
With a little creative license from the medical profession, perhaps I need to hear-
"Preacher, hear thyself!"

While I sort that out I confess to singing the old Beatles song with a new twist...

God's Grammar

In this Lenten season, I have been using the Book of Faith Lenten Journey
which encompasses meditation on the words of the Lord's Prayer. Though I have enjoyed each day, perhaps the meditation that has stuck with me most is the exercise of contemplating the pronouns of the Lord's Prayer, God's grammar. What does it mean to say that God is "our" Father in this prayer? What does it mean to ask for "our" daily bread? What is the weight of seeking forgiveness for "our" sins? The words "I","me" and "my" have no place in this prayer, the prayer Jesus gives in answer to the question of how we should pray. Does this change how you see others,to remind yourself again that God is not picking and choosing as we do? Might the notion that we ask for all to have daily bread, inform our choices, our advocacy, and our idea of what is "enough"? How does it feel to ask God to forgive OUR sins,not just "my sins."? There is no "us versus them" in this equation. The other pronoun I have pondered is "your." God, we hallow, your name. What is not there? Holding up ourselves as holy and worthy. Your kingdom come, your will be done. For this to be meaningful prayer, it means we are affirming that God's arrangement of the world is right and should exist and that we pray for it to be so. If that arrangement means that all have a place in the circle, and that all are truly interdependent, can we think more deeply about how we see others? And about the role of our will? Yours is the kingdom and power and glory. Not ours. Not mine. It is hard sometimes to acknowledge that God's kingdom is not always the kingdom that we desire- it does not square with our wants, our preferences, our fears.God hears all our prayers, the prayers of all of us, not just some. And one final thought- if we really mean it when we pray this prayer, how are we called to be workers for this kingdom where all have their daily bread, where all have God as Father, where all seek forgiveness and a place in the kingdom?
Lord, you answered us when we asked you to teach us how to pray. We ask you to teach us how to live what we pray. Amen.