Tuesday, October 2, 2012
September 30, 2012
Gospel: Mark 9:38-50
Psalm 19:7-14
1st Reading: Numbers 11:4-6, 10-16, 24-29
2nd Reading: James 5:13-20
We read these lessons each week at Sewing for Others on Tuesday mornings and this week we found ourselves chuckling at this first reading. The complaining is all too familiar. The Israelites complain against God. They don’t seem to remember back to when they were slaves, because they were complaining then, too. Then Moses starts feeling overwhelmed and he starts whining and complaining, too.
It is funny because we have heard similar complaining from children and grandchildren, spouses, parents, etc. Everyone seems to have a better way of doing things. I try to keep my mouth shut when my husband is driving. I always know a better way to get some place, but if he hasn’t asked for it, I really try to keep from complaining, unless he tries taking the freeway south to go to the airport! It is just so easy to complain. When things aren’t going our way, it is so easy to look back and imagine a better time, whether it was better or not, and complain. It is easy to pick another person apart or criticize their way of doing something, even when our way probably isn’t any better, even when they have to learn their own way.
I grew up in Albany and the other day I read an article from the Albany Democrat Herald newspaper. The gist of it was this. Don’t waste all your time complaining about our healthcare system or Obamacare, whether you are for it or against. Instead, take control of what you can. Eat right. Exercise. Then you won’t have to use the system that you don’t have that much say about anyway. I thought it was an interesting argument. I don’t see why we can’t do both. But isn’t it true that it is easy to pick apart and complain about something we have little control over and we don’t often take control of our own lives and our own health, the thing we often have some control over.
In the Gospel for this morning, it tells us to start cutting off our body parts, if they have sinned, which is not funny at all. Cutting is a very serious issue for young people. Some handle anxiety or depression by making cuts in their skin in a place they hope no one will see. It is supposed to be a way of releasing tension. It is really damaging and scary and it isn’t something that Jesus would ever advocate.
Instead, I think he means that if there is something in our lives that is causing us to sin, then we should remove it because it is damaging to us and others. Some people feel that television leads them astray or gets in the way of time with family and have gotten rid of the TV. Others have found that smoking is bad for them and taken steps to remove cigarettes from their lives. Some people have found a friend to be a bad influence and so don’t see that person anymore. We all have things in our life that get in the way of our relationship to God and we are encouraged to consider that and decide whether that needs to be part of our life anymore.
Martin Luther would say that everything in our life gets in the way of our relationship with God or God’s people, at some level. So it is a matter of making priorities and seeing what is getting in the way the most and removing that barrier as much as possible. When I think of TV, I know that sometimes it is a waste of my time and in that way, sinful. On the other hand that is where I get a lot of information from day to day, so in that way it keeps me connected. So we have a compromise in which we don’t watch much TV, but when we do we try to make it worthwhile as much as possible, even if it just means time together for me and my husband.
In response to all the griping and complaining, God sends people to help. Moses has been overwhelmed. Now he’s got 70 elders and leaders to help him share the burden. The reading from James reminds us that we’re not alone. We can delegate. We need people to help us. We shouldn’t go it alone. Jesus’ disciples have help from outsiders who are casting out demons and healing. God helps us when we complain to God. God gives us people to help us when we’re overwhelmed, if we can accept help.
Yet it becomes another opportunity for complaining. “They aren’t doing it right!” Eldad and Medad are prophesying in the camp, not the tent, like they should. People are casting out demons who aren’t following Jesus and his disciples, God forbid. I complain that my husband doesn’t take the shortest route. My husband complains that I don’t chop the veggies the way he thinks I should. God gives us people to help us and we complain about it. And we complain when others don’t help us. Other people are going to do it differently, but that doesn’t make it wrong. Maybe we could actually learn from them new ways of doing things. At the very least we can learn to let go of what we can’t control and work on taking care of the things we can.
The good news for us this morning is that God hears our complaining and loves us through it. God is a good father who listens to his children. God sends us help to those complaining children. And when we still complain, God shows us how to let go of the little stuff—the details that drive us crazy. God shows us how to accept help. When Jesus came, he had a teenage mom and probably an elderly dad. He accepted their help and even appreciated it. The disciples’ help left something to be desired. Jesus was surely frustrated with their inability to heal and cast out demons, the way they couldn’t understand who he was, and their petty arguments and distractions from what really mattered. Yet, Jesus accepted and appreciated their help and they went on to finally understand and spread the Gospel. Jesus had to let go of control and teaches us how to do that, too.
The Gospel of God’s love can’t be contained in a church or in a tent or in a nation. It is out of our control and isn’t it better that way? There is no one right way to share it or show it. There are as many ways to worship God as there are people on the earth. There are as many expressions of God’s love as there are cells in our body or stars in the sky. There are no limits on God’s love. It is available to us, no matter who we are.
So we get it all. We get this amazing world that God has made. We get to complain. We get to give thanks. We get to be heard. We get people to help us. We get to complain some more. And we get to do something about the things we can. We get to help God make this world better, which is God bringing justice and love through us and bringing in the Kingdom. Our help probably isn’t ideal for God, since we’re constantly making mistakes and complaining. Yet God chooses to work through that which isn’t perfect because God made us to be creatures who can be creative and make our own decisions rather than robots that God would control but wouldn’t be any fun to interact with. God is willing to work with our mistakes and forgive and continue the relationship because God values us for the beautiful, unique creatures that we are. Maybe God can inspire us to look at ourselves that way with forgiveness and hope and to look at each other way, so that instead of complaining about the help God sends us, we can be grateful for all the beauty and good that we have in this life.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Sermon for September 23, 2012
Gospel: Mark 9:30-37
1st Reading: Jeremiah 11:18-20
Psalm 54
2nd Reading: James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a
I’m sure you’ve all read the cartoon The Family Circus over the years. When I read the Gospel for today, for some reason, I thought of little Billy from that cartoon, as the one that Jesus placed in the midst of the Disciples. I thought Billy would be curious enough to be standing there close to Jesus, having wandered there on one of his excursions, halfway listening, replacing words he didn’t understand with cute phrases of his own, ready to report to Dolly all he’d heard. There he’d be with his big head and his golden cowlick with his head cocked and his big eyes soaking everything up, not realizing that he was about to become the object lesson—the one the Disciples would be looking at in envy, wondering how they could be more like him.
Some of my favorite Family Circus cartoons over the years were Billy’s excursions, where they showed the dotted line where he had gone that day. In one frame, cartoonist Bill Keane could show so much and make our imaginations see Billy jumping over the dog and going round and round the telephone pole, kneeling at the pond, and climbing the trees. With a few dotted lines, we could picture Billy’s curiosity, his playfulness, his physical exertion, his imagination, and his joy. One thing about Billy, he always went unexpected places, because he was a kid. He went places you and I wouldn’t go, but we remember going there because we were all kids once. We might have forgotten hiding under the bed until Billy reminded us. We might have forgotten the feeling of catching a frog or getting all muddy. We might have forgotten how we used to imagine that the grass was hot lava and hop from one rock to the next, but Billy reminds us of the imagination we used to have and the joy we used to have as we explored our world.
If you traced the path of the typical adult, it might look very similar from one day to the next. Go to work. Go to the store. Pay the bills. Make dinner. Water the yard. And thinking of the path of the good life for a typical adult it would look like this: get an education, get a good job, get married, buy a house, buy a car, have a few kids, get a bigger house, get a better car, get a boat, get nice clothes, keep up with the Joneses, and so on.
But today’s readings don’t have a lot of good things to say about the path that the world values. The path the world values is in question in the first lesson. Jeremiah has shared God’s displeasure with the way the Israelites are handling things and treating the poor. Now those in power are coming after Jeremiah to shut him up, for good.
In the second reading, James is also criticizing the normal path of envy and selfishness that the world values, where we want what we don’t need and we hurt other people in order to get what we want and how we get totally focused on our own pleasures. James draws us another path and that is a dotted line to God and God coming down a path, a dotted line to us.
So we might be asking what a path to God might look like. What does the path of a disciple look like? How do we get there from here? What does success look like for a follower of Jesus? How do you know you are a disciple?
Jesus draws a dotted line to the cross. That can’t be right! Nobody even wants to ask him what the heck he means. All our dotted lines are running away from the cross.
Now Jesus gives them another example, and puts Billy in their midst. This another way the path of a disciple might look.
When we think of children, today, we have a very different view of how they were regarded in Jesus’ time. Today they are lavished with attention, given I-phones and fancy clothes, treated to ice-cream, and assured of having their own bedroom. I’m not sure they are valued today more than they were in Jesus’ time, but they are valued differently. Today, it seems we pseudo-value them. Our nation’s farm bill gives them food that isn’t good for them, but doesn’t make nutritious food available for needy families. Families lavish children with gifts, but don’t want to pay taxes to fund the greatest gift of all—an education. In Jesus’ time, they did value them less than we do—they were a liability, a mouth to be fed, a dowry to be paid, land to be divided, an expense. So when Jesus puts Billy in their midst, it is the Billy who has gotten dirty and made mischief and interrupts and is not very cute at all. In fact, maybe it was Dolly in their midst, even more worthless—a girl, an expense, a nobody. And the disciples are supposed to look up to her. She’s on the path that you’re looking for, boys.
I have to think that children today and children of Jesus’ times had many similar qualities, even though we value them differently. This is what I think Jesus was pointing out.
Children are vulnerable and trusting. This was a quality that Jesus also had. Of course he came as a child, a baby in the manger and had to rely on others to take care of him. This isn’t just true of children, but true at various levels all throughout our lives and again when we are older. Billy’s path takes him to the neighbor’s yard, through the woods, over a stream, past a barking dog. There are dangers in his path. Yet he moves forward on that path with confidence, trusting that he will be ok and finding his way back to his family by the end.
We, like children, are vulnerable. We may be able to do a lot ourselves, but we always rely on others to help us at some level. Someone picks up our garbage. Someone puts gas in our car. Someone writes our social security check. Someone cleans our teeth. We need other people to get by. This is good practice for learning to trust others, or knowing who to trust and who to stay away from. It is good practice for learning to turn things over to God. It is good practice even when we get hurt by those we trust, because we learn to forgive just as God forgives us.
The next thing about children is that they find joy in the simple things. We think it is the right house or car or vacation or gadget that will make us happy. But children remind us of what really brings us joy—it is the simple things. Billy plays with a stick. He hops on one foot. He watches a bug. The other day Nick, Sterling, and I went blackberry picking. I gave the baby his toys in his stroller to occupy him and that lasted a little while. Next thing you know he’s throwing his toys overboard and complaining and I am trying to get him interested in his rattles and bright green sippy cup, and toy keys. Then I see him reaching for a long piece of grass. So I gave that to him and he lasted 10 more minutes. The natural world has so much to offer us. There is so much beauty in a piece of grass or a flower or a cloud or tree. Just sitting there watching the wind blow through the bushes and listening to the birds is so relaxing. There isn’t anything to do but to let your heart burst with thanksgiving at being a witness to this beautiful world we live in.
I’ve seen so many times, as we age, we have to let go of all those things we thought were important and downsize to a smaller apartment, assisted living, or whatever the new living situation is going to be. Again and again, the people I’ve known don’t miss any of that stuff they had. They are taking joy in each day, in the people they meet, in the memories they have, and in their families. We can learn from children how to be old, how to find joy in the simple things.
One more thing I think we can learn from children and from older people is how to be curious and have an imagination. Kids and old people are the ones who ask the inappropriate questions. They are soaking up information. They are interested. They tell tall tales, stories with adventure and embellished details. It isn’t lying. It is imagination. It is something that God wants us to have, because it is something that God has. Remember God, creatively creating the heavens and the earth? Remember God making humankind in God’s image? We are like God in that we are creative. Creativity helps us be better problem-solvers. It helps us see the world that God wants to create, where people are fed and share things with each other, where we aren’t in competition with each other but we work together to get things done, where our welcome encompasses all that God has made, and where having a child as your role-model, or having a slave as your role-model is a normal thing because we are on God’s path, not the world’s path. The world’s path leads to despair and fragmentation. God’s path, like Billy’s, leads back to family, to love, to connection, to hope.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
sermon for September 9, 2012
September 9, 2012
Gospel: Mark 7:24-37
1st Reading: Isaiah 35:4-7a
Psalm 146
2nd Reading: James 2:1-17
On Tuesday afternoon I was drawn to my office window by some shouting down below. They’ve been paving Thiessen Road out here, and the delays can be quite long. I was trying to piece together what was going on. A red convertible sports car was stopped here at the end of this little private road and the driver was shouting and cursing. Then suddenly the driver took off up the hill and it was all over. I think what happened was he wanted to go left and there was a big backup of cars. I don’t know if no one would let him in, and it is hard to blame them since the delays were 10 or 20 minutes going down the hill, or if the traffic just never moved so they could give him an opening to go in. Whatever the problem, this guy was irate. His wife or girlfriend was embarrassed by his shouting. The drivers and passengers of the other cars were shocked. And an older gentleman on foot almost tripped as he was walking down to the post box to get his mail because he couldn’t take his eye off this ranting and raving driver.
I don’t know what it is about being behind the wheel, but I have occasionally flown off the handle in a similar situation. Maybe it is the expected convenience of driving and when we don’t have control of the situation we flip out. I don’t know, but I think you tell a lot about a person by how they behave behind the wheel. It tells a lot about how we deal with conflict and that’s what I want to talk about today: Conflict and how we deal with it.
Let’s look at another scenario of conflict. A healer sits at a table. He would really like a quiet moment alone. He’s been followed and harassed. People are making demands of him. He’s got limited time and energy. It didn’t always use to be this way. Once he was without limits, speaking a word and worlds appearing, organizing the stars in the sky, bringing people out of dust, and shaping animals and plants. Now he’s taken on limits and finds himself face to face with the very people he made and eating the plants and animals he created, and trying to meet all these different demands, and he’s exhausted. He’s trying to show them how to live life abundantly and how to share it. Sometimes they get it. Usually they don’t.
Here comes this woman that wants something more from him. He asks her, “Why should I help you?” He’s got a long line of people wanting his healing and wanting him to make dinner for them. Why should she go to the front of the line? And he calls her a dog.
He doesn’t call her a puppy. The Israelites didn’t keep dogs as cute pets. Dogs were like large rats to them. This isn’t a very nice thing to say.
Let’s look at it from the woman’s perspective and see how she deals with conflict. Her back is against the wall. She’s got her eye on one goal—healing for her daughter. She’s got one hope left, and that’s Jesus. She goes to him. She doesn’t waste his time but gets right to the point. He brushes her off. She has several choices at this point. She could give up and go away. She could get herself in a huff and lash out at him in anger. Instead she stays focused. What good would either of those things do? She is steady. She doesn’t get sidelined by his insult. Instead she uses that insult and uses his analogy to make her point. Her point is that she isn’t asking much. Her point is that Jesus has enough healing to go around. She has faith in his abilities. He isn’t going to scare her away. She isn’t going to let hurt feelings keep her from getting what her daughter needs. When I am at my best, I can be like this woman. She is the way I always picture the conflict going later in my mind if I could have said what I wanted to say and remained calm.
So what can we learn that would be helpful to us from these examples of how to deal with conflict? As far as the guy in the car, I think it has to be this: Don’t do what he did. We all lose it now and then. But that yelling didn’t help anyone. It didn’t change anything. Forgive yourself. Move on. And don’t repeat this scene too many times.
As far as Jesus goes, yes, he said something he probably regretted. He was making distinctions between people like it says in James not to do. But he also stayed and heard this woman out. He listened to her. And then he changed his tune. He granted the healing. He learned from his mistake and went on to do other healings of Gentiles as it points out in the second part of the Gospel with the deaf man. From Jesus we see how we can learn from our mistakes.
As far as the Syrophoenician woman goes, we can learn several things. She really is the hero of this story. Maybe we can also learn from Jesus to let someone else be the hero sometimes! She asks for what she needs. We can learn from her to ask for what we need. She has her priorities. She is totally focused on this priority and nothing is going to distract her from her goal. We sometimes let our ego get in the way of meeting our goals. We sometimes have too much pride to ask for what we need or to admit we don’t know all the answers and need help finding them out. We can also learn from this woman to have a thick skin. I think that’s what Jesus recognized in her that he really connected with. This woman is a survivor. She has gumption. She’s not going to take no for an answer. And this is why it is worth it for him to help her. He casts the demon out from her daughter, knowing that it isn’t a waste of his time. This woman has what it takes to feed her family, to stand up for herself, to demand what is right. This is the kind of person Jesus wants to free up to kick some butt. If she’s not spending every minute of her day tending to this child’s every need, she is going to be a firecracker in her community. She will say what needs to be said. She will call people on their BS. This is just the kind of person Jesus wants active in the community, bringing in the Kingdom.
You’ve heard the quote, “Well behaved women seldom make history.” I don’t know if you know, that’s a quote by Nobel Prize winner and Harvard University Professor Laurel Thatcher Ulrich, a feminist and Mormon.
Jesus frees us from having to be well-behaved, whether we are a woman or a man. Jesus frees us to make a difference, to speak truth to power, to be active in our communities, to stand up to those who mistreat us and others like us.
It is so easy when someone insults us or tells us no, to just crumple in a heap or to give up on them immediately, label them evil or stupid. What is harder is to stay engaged when you’re in a conflict. Keep focused on the goal. Know what you want. And don’t let someone’s hurtful comments get to you. Let it roll off your back. Be more mature than that other person. “Be strong. Do not fear!” Be sassy.
When we were coming back from our vacation at the coast last month, we were stopped by a flagger about a half hour into our way home. They were trimming the bushes and trees along the side of the road. She explained there would be a wait of 3-4 minutes, then we would cross into the other lane. We’d pass one road crew vehicle, then we should get back in our lane. Also we should not exceed 30 mph. While we were waiting the man behind us got out of his truck. He said thank you to the flagger for letting him through the other day. He had to get his daughter to the hospital. She had injured her leg and punctured her lung. The man told the flagger his daughter was going to be all right.
Yes we have procedures to keep everyone safe and to make sure we all have the chance to get where we are going. We have flaggers and road signs and an order that directs traffic. But there people who are injured and hungry waiting in those lines who will die if we don’t move them on through. Jesus is the flagger, deciding that it isn’t about what’s fair but what is right. He stops this woman with his stop sign on the stick and says, “Wait here.” And she says, “I can’t wait any more. Please let me through.” And he finds the energy to give life to her.
Jesus should have been at the front of the line and got an easy life. He did everything right. Instead he let everyone else go ahead of him and gave his life rescuing us. Now we who are most privileged in the world get the chance to make sure God’s saving power reaches those who need it most. It is our turn to let others go ahead of us, even though it might not be fair, but because it is life-giving. In our lives there will be conflicts. May we learn from them. May we grow from them. May we stand up for ourselves. May we stand up for those at the back of the line and let them move forward into life abundant.
Gospel: Mark 7:24-37
1st Reading: Isaiah 35:4-7a
Psalm 146
2nd Reading: James 2:1-17
On Tuesday afternoon I was drawn to my office window by some shouting down below. They’ve been paving Thiessen Road out here, and the delays can be quite long. I was trying to piece together what was going on. A red convertible sports car was stopped here at the end of this little private road and the driver was shouting and cursing. Then suddenly the driver took off up the hill and it was all over. I think what happened was he wanted to go left and there was a big backup of cars. I don’t know if no one would let him in, and it is hard to blame them since the delays were 10 or 20 minutes going down the hill, or if the traffic just never moved so they could give him an opening to go in. Whatever the problem, this guy was irate. His wife or girlfriend was embarrassed by his shouting. The drivers and passengers of the other cars were shocked. And an older gentleman on foot almost tripped as he was walking down to the post box to get his mail because he couldn’t take his eye off this ranting and raving driver.
I don’t know what it is about being behind the wheel, but I have occasionally flown off the handle in a similar situation. Maybe it is the expected convenience of driving and when we don’t have control of the situation we flip out. I don’t know, but I think you tell a lot about a person by how they behave behind the wheel. It tells a lot about how we deal with conflict and that’s what I want to talk about today: Conflict and how we deal with it.
Let’s look at another scenario of conflict. A healer sits at a table. He would really like a quiet moment alone. He’s been followed and harassed. People are making demands of him. He’s got limited time and energy. It didn’t always use to be this way. Once he was without limits, speaking a word and worlds appearing, organizing the stars in the sky, bringing people out of dust, and shaping animals and plants. Now he’s taken on limits and finds himself face to face with the very people he made and eating the plants and animals he created, and trying to meet all these different demands, and he’s exhausted. He’s trying to show them how to live life abundantly and how to share it. Sometimes they get it. Usually they don’t.
Here comes this woman that wants something more from him. He asks her, “Why should I help you?” He’s got a long line of people wanting his healing and wanting him to make dinner for them. Why should she go to the front of the line? And he calls her a dog.
He doesn’t call her a puppy. The Israelites didn’t keep dogs as cute pets. Dogs were like large rats to them. This isn’t a very nice thing to say.
Let’s look at it from the woman’s perspective and see how she deals with conflict. Her back is against the wall. She’s got her eye on one goal—healing for her daughter. She’s got one hope left, and that’s Jesus. She goes to him. She doesn’t waste his time but gets right to the point. He brushes her off. She has several choices at this point. She could give up and go away. She could get herself in a huff and lash out at him in anger. Instead she stays focused. What good would either of those things do? She is steady. She doesn’t get sidelined by his insult. Instead she uses that insult and uses his analogy to make her point. Her point is that she isn’t asking much. Her point is that Jesus has enough healing to go around. She has faith in his abilities. He isn’t going to scare her away. She isn’t going to let hurt feelings keep her from getting what her daughter needs. When I am at my best, I can be like this woman. She is the way I always picture the conflict going later in my mind if I could have said what I wanted to say and remained calm.
So what can we learn that would be helpful to us from these examples of how to deal with conflict? As far as the guy in the car, I think it has to be this: Don’t do what he did. We all lose it now and then. But that yelling didn’t help anyone. It didn’t change anything. Forgive yourself. Move on. And don’t repeat this scene too many times.
As far as Jesus goes, yes, he said something he probably regretted. He was making distinctions between people like it says in James not to do. But he also stayed and heard this woman out. He listened to her. And then he changed his tune. He granted the healing. He learned from his mistake and went on to do other healings of Gentiles as it points out in the second part of the Gospel with the deaf man. From Jesus we see how we can learn from our mistakes.
As far as the Syrophoenician woman goes, we can learn several things. She really is the hero of this story. Maybe we can also learn from Jesus to let someone else be the hero sometimes! She asks for what she needs. We can learn from her to ask for what we need. She has her priorities. She is totally focused on this priority and nothing is going to distract her from her goal. We sometimes let our ego get in the way of meeting our goals. We sometimes have too much pride to ask for what we need or to admit we don’t know all the answers and need help finding them out. We can also learn from this woman to have a thick skin. I think that’s what Jesus recognized in her that he really connected with. This woman is a survivor. She has gumption. She’s not going to take no for an answer. And this is why it is worth it for him to help her. He casts the demon out from her daughter, knowing that it isn’t a waste of his time. This woman has what it takes to feed her family, to stand up for herself, to demand what is right. This is the kind of person Jesus wants to free up to kick some butt. If she’s not spending every minute of her day tending to this child’s every need, she is going to be a firecracker in her community. She will say what needs to be said. She will call people on their BS. This is just the kind of person Jesus wants active in the community, bringing in the Kingdom.
You’ve heard the quote, “Well behaved women seldom make history.” I don’t know if you know, that’s a quote by Nobel Prize winner and Harvard University Professor Laurel Thatcher Ulrich, a feminist and Mormon.
Jesus frees us from having to be well-behaved, whether we are a woman or a man. Jesus frees us to make a difference, to speak truth to power, to be active in our communities, to stand up to those who mistreat us and others like us.
It is so easy when someone insults us or tells us no, to just crumple in a heap or to give up on them immediately, label them evil or stupid. What is harder is to stay engaged when you’re in a conflict. Keep focused on the goal. Know what you want. And don’t let someone’s hurtful comments get to you. Let it roll off your back. Be more mature than that other person. “Be strong. Do not fear!” Be sassy.
When we were coming back from our vacation at the coast last month, we were stopped by a flagger about a half hour into our way home. They were trimming the bushes and trees along the side of the road. She explained there would be a wait of 3-4 minutes, then we would cross into the other lane. We’d pass one road crew vehicle, then we should get back in our lane. Also we should not exceed 30 mph. While we were waiting the man behind us got out of his truck. He said thank you to the flagger for letting him through the other day. He had to get his daughter to the hospital. She had injured her leg and punctured her lung. The man told the flagger his daughter was going to be all right.
Yes we have procedures to keep everyone safe and to make sure we all have the chance to get where we are going. We have flaggers and road signs and an order that directs traffic. But there people who are injured and hungry waiting in those lines who will die if we don’t move them on through. Jesus is the flagger, deciding that it isn’t about what’s fair but what is right. He stops this woman with his stop sign on the stick and says, “Wait here.” And she says, “I can’t wait any more. Please let me through.” And he finds the energy to give life to her.
Jesus should have been at the front of the line and got an easy life. He did everything right. Instead he let everyone else go ahead of him and gave his life rescuing us. Now we who are most privileged in the world get the chance to make sure God’s saving power reaches those who need it most. It is our turn to let others go ahead of us, even though it might not be fair, but because it is life-giving. In our lives there will be conflicts. May we learn from them. May we grow from them. May we stand up for ourselves. May we stand up for those at the back of the line and let them move forward into life abundant.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Sermon for Sept 2, 2012
September 5, 2012
Gospel: Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23
Psalm 15
1st Reading: Deuteronomy 4:1-2, 6-9
2nd Reading: James 1:17-27
When I was growing up, we were fortunate to live only 20 minutes away from both sets of grandparents. Four kids meant a lot of mouths to feed and gas prices were low, so almost once a week we went to one grandparents or the other for dinner. At Grandma Nana’s (named so because I couldn’t say grandma as a baby, but only nana) I remember she would call, “Go wash your hands for dinner!” That meant everyone lining up at the one bathroom in the house and washing our hands before we could find our place at the kids’ table to eat. At Grandma V’s house, (so named because no one wanted to have to say Grandma Vorderstrasse, even though it was all our last names) the ritual was praying before our meals, “Come Lord Jesus, be our guest, and let thy gifts to us be blessed.” It sounded a little to me like, “give us more gifts,” but that was the prayer we said. At home, we didn’t do either of these two things, but we did have our own rituals such as where we sat at the table and having to take three bites and having the timer set for 5 minutes if we were not taking our bites. These rules and rituals were to help us know what to expect. They helped prepare us to eat together in community, in family, not to waste food, to get along with each other, to have good health in our bodies, and to remember our food comes from God who we remember and thank.
At our house, now, our routines are changing due to a child in our midst. We still haven’t got our family meal ritual together—we eat at different times. But we are getting the bedtime ritual down pat. It helps our son know what to expect. It helps prepare him for healthy sleep. When he sleeps, we all sleep, which is good and very good.
So the Israelites, too, needed rules and rituals to help them interact together in community, to be healthy and get along and respect each other, and to know what to expect. So God gave them the commandments. And we, too, in society and in church need rules and traditions to help us on our spiritual path and to progress in our relationships. In church, we have many of these rituals. We are so attuned to say “And also with you” when the pastor says, “The Lord be with you” that we even say it when someone says, “May the force be with you.” We are ready to say the Lord’s Prayer, when the pastor says, “God remember us in your Kingdom and teach us to pray.” Or we are ready to respond, “Thanks be to God” when the reader says, “Word of God, word of life.” We are ready to hear the scriptures having sung a hymn in praise to God. We are ready to go to communion, having heard a word of hope. We are ready to go and be the good news to someone in need having gathered in community to worship God.
Our way of worshipping is helpful to us in many ways. Like dinner or bedtime rituals there is no one right way of doing it. We use words from scripture in our worship and we use a formula that makes sense to many of us. And there are other, completely legitimate and wonderful ways to worship God, different words we could use and different order to the elements of worship. And our way of Lutheran worship allows for much flexibility and openness to different options in worship. What matters most is not the words we say, but where our heart is and what our motivations are. What is behind the actions we do and the words we say. Do we worship this way to serve ourselves? Are we flexible enough to be relevant to the world we live in? Do we try to help others understand why we do what we do? Do we leave room for the Holy Spirit in, with, and under our rules and traditions so She can teach us new ways to interact with God that help us grow spiritually?
And one of the biggest questions of all is this: Do we worship the rules so that they cannot be questioned? Or are we willing to examine our traditions to make sure they are still doing what they were intended to do, which is to help us move along a spiritual path toward greater love?
Jesus cautioned us toward worshiping the rules. He said the rule and the tradition is not the thing. They are meant to point to God. He was constantly breaking rules. He picked grain and healed people on the Sabbath. He touched lepers. He talked to prostitutes. And he didn’t wash his hands before dinner, which would have been ok with grandma V., as long as he prayed, but not ok with grandma nana and not ok with the Jewish people and probably not ok with many of us here today. And of course don’t forget that God’s rules were used against him at his trial and because he didn’t deny saying he was God’s Son, he was crucified.
We all know the rules aren’t perfect. Innocent people get sent to jail. People find loopholes in the rules and exploit them, like with the Adjustable Rate Mortgages. The banks were following the rules, but that didn’t mean they were doing the right thing. We often interpret the rules in ways that benefit us. We use the rules to get more power for ourselves or our group and to take that power away from everyone else. Is anyone else as glad as I am that this election will be over soon? Is anyone else as disgusted as I am that both parties are using and misusing power so blatantly? What a waste of time!
In the midst of all this vying for power, the apostle James asks us to hold up a mirror. He asks us to reflect on ourselves and to stop and take a good long look at ourselves and the rules and traditions we use. It is a good thing to do individually. It is a good thing to do as a congregation. Rather than just go through the motions of our laws and traditions, we should look at them. We should assess whether they are accomplishing the work of God. Are they spreading God’s love? Are they helping people on their spiritual journey? Do we do them just because that’s what we’re used to? Do these laws and traditions draw people together into deeper relationship with each other and with God? Do they drive a wedge between people and show who is in and who is out and become ways of excluding people who aren’t like us?
When we look in the mirror, the world tells us not to like who we see. They tell us that we need something to make us likeable-whether it is a new truck or a certain brand of paper towel or a certain food. They promote the tradition of “Buy more stuff until you feel better” because it benefits them. They sell more stuff because of our fear that we aren’t good enough without this that or the other.
God tells us that we are created good and that we are beloved. When we look in the mirror we should see a beloved child of God. We start from a place of love and hope. God also gives us an honest assessment that we are afraid, that we are self serving, that we bend the rules to benefit ourselves, that we compare ourselves to other people. God doesn’t want that for us because it isn’t good for us and it isn’t good for others. So God offers us a better way. It is a way that we can reach for but never fully attain. It is our spiritual path to do God’s word and not just pay it lip service. We all sin and fall short of the glory of God meaning that we are unable to follow God’s commandments. But that doesn’t mean we give up. We want to serve. We want to try to follow God’s rules and commandments so that we can live long in the land and so that we and others can have enough, life abundant. Widows and orphans are still relying on us to be God’s hands and feet helping them. The world is hungry for justice and compassion and hope that God brings through us living that word. God’s rules help us to act justly so that people are fed and clothed and relationships are built.
When we look in the mirror God asks us to see Jesus within us. God wants us to treat that person we see in the mirror as we would treat Jesus. God wants us to have love and compassion for ourselves. God asks us to see the holy within us. God asks us to see Jesus in the eyes of all we meet—all our brothers and sisters, too. When we see Jesus there, we don’t see a rival to compete with. We see a brother who we love and who loves us. We see someone we want to empower rather than to take advantage of. We aren’t to judge that person, but to have a relationship with them.
When we see Jesus in that mirror, we see ourselves like God sees us. We get credit for Jesus’ perfection. God sees the family resemblance. And when we see Jesus reflected back in our neighbor’s eye, in our enemy’s eye, our hearts soften in love.
Jesus takes our place in that mirror and instead of our failures that we would normally see when we look at ourselves, we see what can happen when God works through our hands and feet to help others. Instead of judgment of our shortcomings, we find forgiveness from God and from ourselves. Instead of hatred for ourselves or others, we see our divisions going away. Instead of despair at our inability to do anything about our shortcomings, we get a picture of what could be. Instead of being stuck and hopeless, we get imagination to build a more just and loving future. Instead of seeing rules and traditions to cling to, we see the life and hope the rules point to. When we look in that mirror and truly self-reflect, we find hope, not just for ourselves, but for others. When we become doers of the word, we share that hope with others.
Gospel: Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23
Psalm 15
1st Reading: Deuteronomy 4:1-2, 6-9
2nd Reading: James 1:17-27
When I was growing up, we were fortunate to live only 20 minutes away from both sets of grandparents. Four kids meant a lot of mouths to feed and gas prices were low, so almost once a week we went to one grandparents or the other for dinner. At Grandma Nana’s (named so because I couldn’t say grandma as a baby, but only nana) I remember she would call, “Go wash your hands for dinner!” That meant everyone lining up at the one bathroom in the house and washing our hands before we could find our place at the kids’ table to eat. At Grandma V’s house, (so named because no one wanted to have to say Grandma Vorderstrasse, even though it was all our last names) the ritual was praying before our meals, “Come Lord Jesus, be our guest, and let thy gifts to us be blessed.” It sounded a little to me like, “give us more gifts,” but that was the prayer we said. At home, we didn’t do either of these two things, but we did have our own rituals such as where we sat at the table and having to take three bites and having the timer set for 5 minutes if we were not taking our bites. These rules and rituals were to help us know what to expect. They helped prepare us to eat together in community, in family, not to waste food, to get along with each other, to have good health in our bodies, and to remember our food comes from God who we remember and thank.
At our house, now, our routines are changing due to a child in our midst. We still haven’t got our family meal ritual together—we eat at different times. But we are getting the bedtime ritual down pat. It helps our son know what to expect. It helps prepare him for healthy sleep. When he sleeps, we all sleep, which is good and very good.
So the Israelites, too, needed rules and rituals to help them interact together in community, to be healthy and get along and respect each other, and to know what to expect. So God gave them the commandments. And we, too, in society and in church need rules and traditions to help us on our spiritual path and to progress in our relationships. In church, we have many of these rituals. We are so attuned to say “And also with you” when the pastor says, “The Lord be with you” that we even say it when someone says, “May the force be with you.” We are ready to say the Lord’s Prayer, when the pastor says, “God remember us in your Kingdom and teach us to pray.” Or we are ready to respond, “Thanks be to God” when the reader says, “Word of God, word of life.” We are ready to hear the scriptures having sung a hymn in praise to God. We are ready to go to communion, having heard a word of hope. We are ready to go and be the good news to someone in need having gathered in community to worship God.
Our way of worshipping is helpful to us in many ways. Like dinner or bedtime rituals there is no one right way of doing it. We use words from scripture in our worship and we use a formula that makes sense to many of us. And there are other, completely legitimate and wonderful ways to worship God, different words we could use and different order to the elements of worship. And our way of Lutheran worship allows for much flexibility and openness to different options in worship. What matters most is not the words we say, but where our heart is and what our motivations are. What is behind the actions we do and the words we say. Do we worship this way to serve ourselves? Are we flexible enough to be relevant to the world we live in? Do we try to help others understand why we do what we do? Do we leave room for the Holy Spirit in, with, and under our rules and traditions so She can teach us new ways to interact with God that help us grow spiritually?
And one of the biggest questions of all is this: Do we worship the rules so that they cannot be questioned? Or are we willing to examine our traditions to make sure they are still doing what they were intended to do, which is to help us move along a spiritual path toward greater love?
Jesus cautioned us toward worshiping the rules. He said the rule and the tradition is not the thing. They are meant to point to God. He was constantly breaking rules. He picked grain and healed people on the Sabbath. He touched lepers. He talked to prostitutes. And he didn’t wash his hands before dinner, which would have been ok with grandma V., as long as he prayed, but not ok with grandma nana and not ok with the Jewish people and probably not ok with many of us here today. And of course don’t forget that God’s rules were used against him at his trial and because he didn’t deny saying he was God’s Son, he was crucified.
We all know the rules aren’t perfect. Innocent people get sent to jail. People find loopholes in the rules and exploit them, like with the Adjustable Rate Mortgages. The banks were following the rules, but that didn’t mean they were doing the right thing. We often interpret the rules in ways that benefit us. We use the rules to get more power for ourselves or our group and to take that power away from everyone else. Is anyone else as glad as I am that this election will be over soon? Is anyone else as disgusted as I am that both parties are using and misusing power so blatantly? What a waste of time!
In the midst of all this vying for power, the apostle James asks us to hold up a mirror. He asks us to reflect on ourselves and to stop and take a good long look at ourselves and the rules and traditions we use. It is a good thing to do individually. It is a good thing to do as a congregation. Rather than just go through the motions of our laws and traditions, we should look at them. We should assess whether they are accomplishing the work of God. Are they spreading God’s love? Are they helping people on their spiritual journey? Do we do them just because that’s what we’re used to? Do these laws and traditions draw people together into deeper relationship with each other and with God? Do they drive a wedge between people and show who is in and who is out and become ways of excluding people who aren’t like us?
When we look in the mirror, the world tells us not to like who we see. They tell us that we need something to make us likeable-whether it is a new truck or a certain brand of paper towel or a certain food. They promote the tradition of “Buy more stuff until you feel better” because it benefits them. They sell more stuff because of our fear that we aren’t good enough without this that or the other.
God tells us that we are created good and that we are beloved. When we look in the mirror we should see a beloved child of God. We start from a place of love and hope. God also gives us an honest assessment that we are afraid, that we are self serving, that we bend the rules to benefit ourselves, that we compare ourselves to other people. God doesn’t want that for us because it isn’t good for us and it isn’t good for others. So God offers us a better way. It is a way that we can reach for but never fully attain. It is our spiritual path to do God’s word and not just pay it lip service. We all sin and fall short of the glory of God meaning that we are unable to follow God’s commandments. But that doesn’t mean we give up. We want to serve. We want to try to follow God’s rules and commandments so that we can live long in the land and so that we and others can have enough, life abundant. Widows and orphans are still relying on us to be God’s hands and feet helping them. The world is hungry for justice and compassion and hope that God brings through us living that word. God’s rules help us to act justly so that people are fed and clothed and relationships are built.
When we look in the mirror God asks us to see Jesus within us. God wants us to treat that person we see in the mirror as we would treat Jesus. God wants us to have love and compassion for ourselves. God asks us to see the holy within us. God asks us to see Jesus in the eyes of all we meet—all our brothers and sisters, too. When we see Jesus there, we don’t see a rival to compete with. We see a brother who we love and who loves us. We see someone we want to empower rather than to take advantage of. We aren’t to judge that person, but to have a relationship with them.
When we see Jesus in that mirror, we see ourselves like God sees us. We get credit for Jesus’ perfection. God sees the family resemblance. And when we see Jesus reflected back in our neighbor’s eye, in our enemy’s eye, our hearts soften in love.
Jesus takes our place in that mirror and instead of our failures that we would normally see when we look at ourselves, we see what can happen when God works through our hands and feet to help others. Instead of judgment of our shortcomings, we find forgiveness from God and from ourselves. Instead of hatred for ourselves or others, we see our divisions going away. Instead of despair at our inability to do anything about our shortcomings, we get a picture of what could be. Instead of being stuck and hopeless, we get imagination to build a more just and loving future. Instead of seeing rules and traditions to cling to, we see the life and hope the rules point to. When we look in that mirror and truly self-reflect, we find hope, not just for ourselves, but for others. When we become doers of the word, we share that hope with others.
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Sermon for August 19, 2012
August 19, 2012
Gospel: John 6:51-58
Psalm 34:9-14
1st Reading: Proverbs 9:1-6
2nd Reading: Ephesians 5:15-20
Eating flesh and drinking blood. It sounds like a zombie or vampire story right? These have been all the rage the past few years. A couple of years ago I stayed with a pastor friend of mine in Eugene for part of my vacation. We went into a bookstore looking for a particular book in the “Son of a Witch” series. Finally, after not finding it where she expected to, she asked the clerk where it could be found. The clerk replied, “That’s in ‘Teen Paranormal Romance.’” I had to stifle my snicker! Number one, an adult was reading these books. Number two there was a whole section for this type of book. Number three, I am superior since I’ve never even picked up one of these “Twilight” books or seen any of the movies.
Of course on further reflection I admit that I am not superior or immune. When I was growing up the vampire movie was “The Lost Boys.” I went to the theater to see “I am Legend” when it came out, a zombie/vampire story. Just this year Nick and I started watching the “Walking Dead” series that we stream from the internet. I also watched a season and a half of “True Blood” until I just couldn’t suspend disbelief enough to watch it anymore. I can say that my tastes are less geared toward teenagers, and less about romance, but my friend who was looking for her teen paranormal romance book is probably more in touch with today’s cultural references, and can have a more informed conversation with a teenager than I can.
These vampire and zombie movies, books, and TV shows may or may not be what you’re watching or reading, but they are what your children or grandchildren are watching and reading. Some religious leaders have condemned these books as well as Harry Potter, because of its connection to black magic and witchcraft, but they do have strong spiritual themes. This can be a convenient way to talk to your child or grandchild about spirituality and even Christianity or even think about it more deeply for yourself.
The eating of the flesh and drinking of the blood might not be the first theme you want to go to, but it is front and center. It is pretty gross to think about. But the truth is, Jesus asked us to do it and it is the central ritual, the Sacrament that we gather around every Sunday. It is at the table that we meet and eat Jesus.
Vampires and Christians share something in common and that is the view that blood is life, it is empowerment. Vampires and Christians find eternal life by drinking blood. When vampires do it, they damage the person from whom they drink. In the Lord’s Supper, when we drink the blood, we share in the eternal life of Jesus, but we go from damaged to whole. We take on Jesus’ kind of life that is eternal, but we also take on Jesus’ manner of life that is self-giving and loving and welcoming. Some questions to consider when thinking about the Lord’s Supper and literature and movies about vampires is this: What does it mean to live eternally? What does it mean to truly live? What gives life? What takes it away?
In these vampire stories there is usually the theme of “us verses them.” There is the fear of the unknown. There is the “other.” Often these films take on a Romeo and Juliet flavor in which two young people fall in love, when that is forbidden because they are from different groups, one a human and one a vampire. Through their love, they teach others to lose their fear and instead embrace differences and break down barriers separating the two groups. Another sub-theme is about judging a book by its cover.
Now maybe I should have preached separate sermons on zombies and vampires, because they are very different creatures, but I don’t know if you would sit through two of these sermons or if I could stomach preaching about this twice, so here we go.
Zombies eat flesh. Once they do, the one they’ve eaten also becomes a zombie. They are dead and yet they move and hurt people and spread this zombie disease. I think zombie stories are so interesting because they challenge the life we live now. Sometimes I know I feel like a zombie, going through the motions, in my routines, walking through life in a daze unaware of my surroundings, drawn in by advertising and the messages culture gives me about what to spend my money on and what is important in life.
Jesus is the anti-zombie in this case. When we eat of his flesh, instead of becoming less alive, we become more aware and more alive. Instead of then going and feasting on other people, we invite them to feast with Jesus and truly live. Through this meal we become more aware of how we treat other people. We are invited to share our food. We are invited to see every meal as a gift from God. We are invited to sacrifice our own wants and desires to make sure that others have life abundant.
Finally, both vampire and zombie stories are about the world falling apart all around us and how we behave when we are faced with tough choices. Faced as we are with the loss of environment and habitat, pollution and a warming planet with extremes of weather, it does seem that we are living in times of desperation and fear. Other moments in history have had their own notions of a world torn apart, whether it was The Black Plague, times of war, the fear of “the bomb” or whatever. And we know that there are places in this world that have fallen apart and would look very much like the set of a zombie movie. It isn’t that far-fetched to see ourselves in a world where we are desperately trying to survive. We do have to make tough choices every day. And sometimes those choices are made for us as we age or get sick or financial markets take their toll or whatever.
These stories make us think about the question of who we are. When it is easy to be generous and loving, sure I will be those things. Would I still be the same when times are tough? Jesus showed us God, loving even as we were crucifying him. This truly showed that God does not resort to violence, no matter the situation. It shows God welcoming the criminals on either side of him as he hung there on the cross, even as he suffered and died. Who are we really? Are we really loving and faithful even when it isn’t easy to be? We don’t know until we come to that point and our faith is tested. But you don’t have to wait until the world is a desolate wasteland and you’re being pursued by a pack of zombies to know. We go through hardships that help us practice loving kindness. We know we’d give a jump to a woman with a baby stuck in the grocery store parking lot. But what if it was a guy with a lot of tattoos? What if it was our enemy? What if it was hailing? What if there were zombies coming after us? It isn’t often life or death. That just makes for good TV and sells a lot of books. But it is a matter of how we live our faith in a response of thanksgiving to God who does give us life and life abundant through the flesh and blood of his son Jesus. It is God who makes us flesh of his flesh and blood of his blood and invites us to help join others to the body of Christ through acts of love and grace.
Gospel: John 6:51-58
Psalm 34:9-14
1st Reading: Proverbs 9:1-6
2nd Reading: Ephesians 5:15-20
Eating flesh and drinking blood. It sounds like a zombie or vampire story right? These have been all the rage the past few years. A couple of years ago I stayed with a pastor friend of mine in Eugene for part of my vacation. We went into a bookstore looking for a particular book in the “Son of a Witch” series. Finally, after not finding it where she expected to, she asked the clerk where it could be found. The clerk replied, “That’s in ‘Teen Paranormal Romance.’” I had to stifle my snicker! Number one, an adult was reading these books. Number two there was a whole section for this type of book. Number three, I am superior since I’ve never even picked up one of these “Twilight” books or seen any of the movies.
Of course on further reflection I admit that I am not superior or immune. When I was growing up the vampire movie was “The Lost Boys.” I went to the theater to see “I am Legend” when it came out, a zombie/vampire story. Just this year Nick and I started watching the “Walking Dead” series that we stream from the internet. I also watched a season and a half of “True Blood” until I just couldn’t suspend disbelief enough to watch it anymore. I can say that my tastes are less geared toward teenagers, and less about romance, but my friend who was looking for her teen paranormal romance book is probably more in touch with today’s cultural references, and can have a more informed conversation with a teenager than I can.
These vampire and zombie movies, books, and TV shows may or may not be what you’re watching or reading, but they are what your children or grandchildren are watching and reading. Some religious leaders have condemned these books as well as Harry Potter, because of its connection to black magic and witchcraft, but they do have strong spiritual themes. This can be a convenient way to talk to your child or grandchild about spirituality and even Christianity or even think about it more deeply for yourself.
The eating of the flesh and drinking of the blood might not be the first theme you want to go to, but it is front and center. It is pretty gross to think about. But the truth is, Jesus asked us to do it and it is the central ritual, the Sacrament that we gather around every Sunday. It is at the table that we meet and eat Jesus.
Vampires and Christians share something in common and that is the view that blood is life, it is empowerment. Vampires and Christians find eternal life by drinking blood. When vampires do it, they damage the person from whom they drink. In the Lord’s Supper, when we drink the blood, we share in the eternal life of Jesus, but we go from damaged to whole. We take on Jesus’ kind of life that is eternal, but we also take on Jesus’ manner of life that is self-giving and loving and welcoming. Some questions to consider when thinking about the Lord’s Supper and literature and movies about vampires is this: What does it mean to live eternally? What does it mean to truly live? What gives life? What takes it away?
In these vampire stories there is usually the theme of “us verses them.” There is the fear of the unknown. There is the “other.” Often these films take on a Romeo and Juliet flavor in which two young people fall in love, when that is forbidden because they are from different groups, one a human and one a vampire. Through their love, they teach others to lose their fear and instead embrace differences and break down barriers separating the two groups. Another sub-theme is about judging a book by its cover.
Now maybe I should have preached separate sermons on zombies and vampires, because they are very different creatures, but I don’t know if you would sit through two of these sermons or if I could stomach preaching about this twice, so here we go.
Zombies eat flesh. Once they do, the one they’ve eaten also becomes a zombie. They are dead and yet they move and hurt people and spread this zombie disease. I think zombie stories are so interesting because they challenge the life we live now. Sometimes I know I feel like a zombie, going through the motions, in my routines, walking through life in a daze unaware of my surroundings, drawn in by advertising and the messages culture gives me about what to spend my money on and what is important in life.
Jesus is the anti-zombie in this case. When we eat of his flesh, instead of becoming less alive, we become more aware and more alive. Instead of then going and feasting on other people, we invite them to feast with Jesus and truly live. Through this meal we become more aware of how we treat other people. We are invited to share our food. We are invited to see every meal as a gift from God. We are invited to sacrifice our own wants and desires to make sure that others have life abundant.
Finally, both vampire and zombie stories are about the world falling apart all around us and how we behave when we are faced with tough choices. Faced as we are with the loss of environment and habitat, pollution and a warming planet with extremes of weather, it does seem that we are living in times of desperation and fear. Other moments in history have had their own notions of a world torn apart, whether it was The Black Plague, times of war, the fear of “the bomb” or whatever. And we know that there are places in this world that have fallen apart and would look very much like the set of a zombie movie. It isn’t that far-fetched to see ourselves in a world where we are desperately trying to survive. We do have to make tough choices every day. And sometimes those choices are made for us as we age or get sick or financial markets take their toll or whatever.
These stories make us think about the question of who we are. When it is easy to be generous and loving, sure I will be those things. Would I still be the same when times are tough? Jesus showed us God, loving even as we were crucifying him. This truly showed that God does not resort to violence, no matter the situation. It shows God welcoming the criminals on either side of him as he hung there on the cross, even as he suffered and died. Who are we really? Are we really loving and faithful even when it isn’t easy to be? We don’t know until we come to that point and our faith is tested. But you don’t have to wait until the world is a desolate wasteland and you’re being pursued by a pack of zombies to know. We go through hardships that help us practice loving kindness. We know we’d give a jump to a woman with a baby stuck in the grocery store parking lot. But what if it was a guy with a lot of tattoos? What if it was our enemy? What if it was hailing? What if there were zombies coming after us? It isn’t often life or death. That just makes for good TV and sells a lot of books. But it is a matter of how we live our faith in a response of thanksgiving to God who does give us life and life abundant through the flesh and blood of his son Jesus. It is God who makes us flesh of his flesh and blood of his blood and invites us to help join others to the body of Christ through acts of love and grace.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
July 29, 2012
Gospel: John 6:1-21
1st Reading: 2 Kings 4:42-44
Psalm 145:10-18
2nd Reading: Ephesians 3:14-21
If you would have asked me a couple of years ago, I probably would have told you that I didn’t believe in miracles. The sick are healed because doctors do good work and people feel the support of their family and friends across great distances. This Gospel story of the feeding of the 5000 is a story where one boy decided to share his lunch and everyone else got out their picnic lunches and shared them, too. And don’t even get me started on the Virgin Mary.
I am part of a cynical generation. We are known for our wry sense of humor. We question everything. It is a rite of passage to reject everything our parents believed in, God, America, family, to prove that we are our own person. We may or may not be in the same generation, but I know you’ve experienced it to. We are in an age where we know everything about every politician. Someone that you might have wanted to vote for now has their affairs broadcast in great detail on every internet news site. Books are written tearing people down, prying into their lives until nothing is left to the imagination. In some ways more information is good, because who doesn’t want to be informed. On the other hand, some things just shouldn’t matter, and yet they do.
My cynicism, like a lot of people’s, started with my teenage years. That’s when we all start to realize that there is so much suffering in this world, that the good guys don’t always win—in fact they seldom do, that there are wars and disease and terrible things going on and very little that anyone is doing about it. We notice our parents being hypocritical. We wonder if there is anyone or anything that we can rely on.
And religion isn’t immune from this cynicism. Read your history and you can see how people have misused religion to gain power for themselves, to hurt other people, and to control people. It is no wonder people are suspicious of religion and people of faith.
On top of that, it has been a tough couple of weeks in the news. A week and a half ago, we had the shooting in Colorado. I read a story in Rolling Stone magazine about climate change and how by the time Sterling is 16, we’ll be at the tipping point of environmental collapse. I read how fossil fuel companies are literally invested in burning 5 times the carbon that our planet can handle without whole countries being submerged in the ocean and society breaking down and our planet being too hot to support the foods we love to eat, that we need to eat. I just didn’t realize it was happening as fast as it is.
This kind of news has a numbing effect. Sometimes I find it hard to have hope. I want to do something, but I know what I’m doing will never be enough. I picture all the suffering people and I can’t do a darned thing to help them. It is hard to believe in miracles when the world is falling apart around us.
And yet, today, I can say I believe in miracles. I’m in a little different place—a little more hopeful place, than I was a few years ago, because I am aware of miracles going on around me. I’ve seen real miracles. I know it is a miracle that happens to almost every woman eventually, but in the past year I’ve grown a child inside my body, experienced the miraculous growth, felt every miraculous kick and hiccup. Now I get to see a human being learn every little thing, which is a kind of miracle.
I also believe in miracles because my child believes in them. If you want to see a miracle, watch a toe wiggling in a sock, watch a butterfly flit around your yard, sit down and really taste your food like you are trying it for the first time, watch light patterns stream through windows, stare in the face of someone you love, listen to some music, sit in a breeze, study a set of keys. All these things I took for granted for so long, are now new again. Things I quit noticing, I notice again and appreciate. Many of you experience this now through grandchildren or great grandchildren. Those everyday things have been miracles all along, just now I see them for the miracles they are. And what a miracle, our five senses that we have to explore our world.
We find hope through these new little people who show us miracles every day. Because of that hope and that belief in miracles, we will do what it takes to make more miracles happen. Because we believe in miracles, we won’t return violence with violence, but we’ll find a way to forgive. Because we believe in miracles, we’ll give our time and our money to make sure that other people get to experience the miracle of their child being well fed, receiving medical care, and growing up in a world without the fear of violence. Because we believe in miracles, we’ll lobby our officials to change the rules so we don’t pollute and ruin this beautiful planet that we want our grandchildren to experience.
The one miracle I’ve always believed in is that God came as one of us to experience our life, died and rose from the dead to give us life. Even if we can’t believe in miracles, or there are times in our lives when we quit noticing miracles, God believes in us and works miracles through unlikely, clueless folks. God keeps pouring God’s abundant grace into us. The abundance of God is all over the stories for this morning.
In 2 Kings, Elisha looks at what little he has, just 20 loaves of barley bread and some flour. He questions what good it is going to do when there are 100 hungry people to feed. God tells him to share it and let the people eat. And they do and there are leftovers.
The Gospel reading parallels this reading—even the kind of bread is the same, barley loaves. The Disciples have been around long enough to know they want nothing to do with a hungry crowd. Have you heard this new word “hangry?” It is a combination of “hungry” and “angry.” I know being hungry doesn’t make me a happy person. This crowd is going to be hangry any minute now.
I love that it is the little boy who saves the day. He is the only one naïve enough to think that he can make a difference. He believes in miracles. He has been learning what the adults have been teaching him—how to share. They have been teaching him what they don’t remember how to do. Now he is going to show them what it means to share. He gives without regard to whether he’s going to get any. He doesn’t eat his lunch and give what’s left. He doesn’t just give 10% or 2% of his lunch. He gives it away in a bold offering. It is only a little, yet it is enough because Jesus is enough. Love is enough. God is generous and when we have faith in him and are generous, it is enough. Jesus can use us to make a miracle if we will let him instead of being cynical and afraid and greedy.
The second reading speaks of the “riches of his glory.” The God would use God’s power to strengthen us. That it isn’t our own power, but Christ dwelling in us, rooting and grounding us in love. The prayer is that we would know Christ’s love and be filled with it, that we would be filled with the fullness of God. Because of this, God is able to work through us more than we can imagine. We have the power to make this world more just, more peaceful, healthier, stronger. Or rather it is God through us who is doing miracles everyday, right in front of our eyes, and is asking us to participate in his miracles of feeding the hungry, healing the sick, comforting the bereaved, and caring for nature and our planet so that it can continue to support abundant life and future generations can continue to know the grace that we know.
1st Reading: 2 Kings 4:42-44
Psalm 145:10-18
2nd Reading: Ephesians 3:14-21
If you would have asked me a couple of years ago, I probably would have told you that I didn’t believe in miracles. The sick are healed because doctors do good work and people feel the support of their family and friends across great distances. This Gospel story of the feeding of the 5000 is a story where one boy decided to share his lunch and everyone else got out their picnic lunches and shared them, too. And don’t even get me started on the Virgin Mary.
I am part of a cynical generation. We are known for our wry sense of humor. We question everything. It is a rite of passage to reject everything our parents believed in, God, America, family, to prove that we are our own person. We may or may not be in the same generation, but I know you’ve experienced it to. We are in an age where we know everything about every politician. Someone that you might have wanted to vote for now has their affairs broadcast in great detail on every internet news site. Books are written tearing people down, prying into their lives until nothing is left to the imagination. In some ways more information is good, because who doesn’t want to be informed. On the other hand, some things just shouldn’t matter, and yet they do.
My cynicism, like a lot of people’s, started with my teenage years. That’s when we all start to realize that there is so much suffering in this world, that the good guys don’t always win—in fact they seldom do, that there are wars and disease and terrible things going on and very little that anyone is doing about it. We notice our parents being hypocritical. We wonder if there is anyone or anything that we can rely on.
And religion isn’t immune from this cynicism. Read your history and you can see how people have misused religion to gain power for themselves, to hurt other people, and to control people. It is no wonder people are suspicious of religion and people of faith.
On top of that, it has been a tough couple of weeks in the news. A week and a half ago, we had the shooting in Colorado. I read a story in Rolling Stone magazine about climate change and how by the time Sterling is 16, we’ll be at the tipping point of environmental collapse. I read how fossil fuel companies are literally invested in burning 5 times the carbon that our planet can handle without whole countries being submerged in the ocean and society breaking down and our planet being too hot to support the foods we love to eat, that we need to eat. I just didn’t realize it was happening as fast as it is.
This kind of news has a numbing effect. Sometimes I find it hard to have hope. I want to do something, but I know what I’m doing will never be enough. I picture all the suffering people and I can’t do a darned thing to help them. It is hard to believe in miracles when the world is falling apart around us.
And yet, today, I can say I believe in miracles. I’m in a little different place—a little more hopeful place, than I was a few years ago, because I am aware of miracles going on around me. I’ve seen real miracles. I know it is a miracle that happens to almost every woman eventually, but in the past year I’ve grown a child inside my body, experienced the miraculous growth, felt every miraculous kick and hiccup. Now I get to see a human being learn every little thing, which is a kind of miracle.
I also believe in miracles because my child believes in them. If you want to see a miracle, watch a toe wiggling in a sock, watch a butterfly flit around your yard, sit down and really taste your food like you are trying it for the first time, watch light patterns stream through windows, stare in the face of someone you love, listen to some music, sit in a breeze, study a set of keys. All these things I took for granted for so long, are now new again. Things I quit noticing, I notice again and appreciate. Many of you experience this now through grandchildren or great grandchildren. Those everyday things have been miracles all along, just now I see them for the miracles they are. And what a miracle, our five senses that we have to explore our world.
We find hope through these new little people who show us miracles every day. Because of that hope and that belief in miracles, we will do what it takes to make more miracles happen. Because we believe in miracles, we won’t return violence with violence, but we’ll find a way to forgive. Because we believe in miracles, we’ll give our time and our money to make sure that other people get to experience the miracle of their child being well fed, receiving medical care, and growing up in a world without the fear of violence. Because we believe in miracles, we’ll lobby our officials to change the rules so we don’t pollute and ruin this beautiful planet that we want our grandchildren to experience.
The one miracle I’ve always believed in is that God came as one of us to experience our life, died and rose from the dead to give us life. Even if we can’t believe in miracles, or there are times in our lives when we quit noticing miracles, God believes in us and works miracles through unlikely, clueless folks. God keeps pouring God’s abundant grace into us. The abundance of God is all over the stories for this morning.
In 2 Kings, Elisha looks at what little he has, just 20 loaves of barley bread and some flour. He questions what good it is going to do when there are 100 hungry people to feed. God tells him to share it and let the people eat. And they do and there are leftovers.
The Gospel reading parallels this reading—even the kind of bread is the same, barley loaves. The Disciples have been around long enough to know they want nothing to do with a hungry crowd. Have you heard this new word “hangry?” It is a combination of “hungry” and “angry.” I know being hungry doesn’t make me a happy person. This crowd is going to be hangry any minute now.
I love that it is the little boy who saves the day. He is the only one naïve enough to think that he can make a difference. He believes in miracles. He has been learning what the adults have been teaching him—how to share. They have been teaching him what they don’t remember how to do. Now he is going to show them what it means to share. He gives without regard to whether he’s going to get any. He doesn’t eat his lunch and give what’s left. He doesn’t just give 10% or 2% of his lunch. He gives it away in a bold offering. It is only a little, yet it is enough because Jesus is enough. Love is enough. God is generous and when we have faith in him and are generous, it is enough. Jesus can use us to make a miracle if we will let him instead of being cynical and afraid and greedy.
The second reading speaks of the “riches of his glory.” The God would use God’s power to strengthen us. That it isn’t our own power, but Christ dwelling in us, rooting and grounding us in love. The prayer is that we would know Christ’s love and be filled with it, that we would be filled with the fullness of God. Because of this, God is able to work through us more than we can imagine. We have the power to make this world more just, more peaceful, healthier, stronger. Or rather it is God through us who is doing miracles everyday, right in front of our eyes, and is asking us to participate in his miracles of feeding the hungry, healing the sick, comforting the bereaved, and caring for nature and our planet so that it can continue to support abundant life and future generations can continue to know the grace that we know.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Sermon for July 22, 2012
July 22, 2012
Gospel: Mark 6:30-34, 53-56
Psalm 23
1st Reading: Jeremiah 23:1-6
2nd Reading: Ephesians 2:11-22
This week, at Vacation Bible School, I made a little boy cry. It will probably take me longer to get over it than him. In fact he was back the next day and feeling fine and we had a positive interaction, although I was sure not to mention the previous day’s incident. I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings. Sometimes I forget that some people see me like the principal of the school. I am in authority. These kids don’t know me, even if I know them, even if I baptized them and pray for them. Of course the last thing we want from Bible School is for a kid or volunteer to have a bad experience of church or the pastor. It is all about having a good experience. But any time people come together, whether it is for VBS or anything else, the potential for division is automatically created.
I hurt this boy’s feelings and now I hear from Jesus’ own lips, “Woe to the shepherds that scatter the flock.” I just know he’s talking about me. This boy will be fine and hopefully have not lasting effects from this shepherd, but what about all the other people I’ve offended or driven off or failed in one way or another?
This isn’t just about pastors either. You might not consider yourselves shepherds, but you are Christians, held to a high standard. It says in the Gospel of Luke, “To those whom much is given, much is expected.” There are people who don’t like you, who have hurt you or been hurt by you, people with whom you feel a wedge in your life, where the hope of reconciliation is pretty much nonexistent and that a conversation about a toy boat can’t fix. Yet much is expected of us, who have been given everything that means anything, from God, our father.
We’re separate and broken from each other. That’s part of being in a state of sin. And woe to us! Yes it does feel pretty woeful. I hate conflict. I want everyone to like me. But to be in relationship is to take a risk—a risk of hurting someone’s feelings. We can’t all agree. We don’t all communicate the same way. We all have different levels of sensitivity. We’re all going to experience woe, and the regret of scattering the flock, of breaking something that was beautiful, of driving away reasonable people.
The Old Testament reading speaks of a scattered remnant. If you do any sewing, this brings to mind of course the scraps, the fabric left over at the end of a bolt of material. If you don’t sew, maybe you can relate to using scraps of wood or what is left of a can of paint to complete a project, or using the leftovers in your kitchen to make something delicious for dinner.
I love remnants. My grandma made me a quilt out of remnants. Looking at it with my mom, we point out together which blocks were made from scraps from my mother’s childhood dresses, or aprons grandma made. The scraps bring back memories of more than what we wore, but of what we did as we wore those handmade treasures. The quilt brings back memories of twirling skirts, or cooking with mom, or rolling down the hills, or getting ready for bed.
It is so much fun to search for exactly the right piece of fabric to complete a project. Often at the fabric store, I stop by the shelf of remnants to see what’s there. It is all half-price and I can’t resist a bargain. You never know what you might find, that you wouldn’t have thought of, that will work for a project in progress.
My favorite place to get scraps is at the Goodwill, and more than that at the Goodwill outlet store, or “The Bins” as it is commonly known. There I dig through mounds of clothes, broken toys, bits of paper, and every other kind of trash you could think of to find treasures. Once I spent a half an hour gathering beautiful glass beads at the bottom of one of these bins. I spent about 25 cents for what I would have paid more than ten dollars for at the regular store, but I had to dig and pick every last one of those little beads out of the bottom of that bin. At the bins I’ve found maternity clothes, books for children and adults, a plastic storage bin that I use as a tub to bathe my giant baby. The thing I like to find most is fabric remnants. I especially love it when I find some quilt squares already assembled. I made a quilt for my cousin’s wedding from 10 large quilt squares I found at the bins. Sometimes you find some already assembled squares plus some pieces cut out ready to be sewn and often fat quarters of the same fabric waiting to be cut to fill in the gaps. I don’t often have the time and patience to make a whole quilt myself, but if I can complete someone else’s project, it can be very satisfying. I try to imagine the person that started this quilt. Did they give up? Did they die? Who was this project intended for? I like picking up where they left off.
Jesus loved the remnants, too. He loved everybody, but the remnants were crying out to be used in a project of God’s design. They were just begging to be gathered. The sick were following him from place to place in the Gospel, just hoping to touch the remnant of his cloak, to feel connected to him, to find hope, to believe wholeness was possible for them. He needed some rest, but he also had compassion for them and he was trying to balance the two.
We have a tendency to scatter the flock. We tend to break apart what God has brought together. Of course we try not to do it and we try to learn from our mistakes not to repeat them. I know that with small children, I should consider asking their grandparent to explain things to them, instead of doing it myself. I need to carefully choose my words and actions. I want to be someone who gathers rather than scatters. And yet I am aware, that I, too, am a remnant, a scrap that experiences separation from others. I need Jesus to sew me together with other scraps to make something beautiful and useful. In some ways all I can do is to be available to be sewn together. I can be aware of my incompleteness. I can look forward to making connections with others. Maybe I can smooth out some of my rough edges so I can fit with others around me.
We rip apart the fabric, saw the wood, and cut the vegetables. It is usually with the intention of making something from it. We aren’t trying to be hurtful. Sometimes someone else has started the project and we get to be Jesus’ sewing machine or hammer helping to put things together in a new way, to make something useful out of what was just a scrap, a remnant, a nothing. Sometimes we start a project and someone else gets to finish it. But always it is God working through us to gather the flock, to heal, to feed, to soothe, to bless.
Jesus is digging through the trash heap, but he doesn’t see trash. He sees something ready to be gathered, healed, adopted, brought into relationship, sewn, glued, or attached. Jesus sees the potential there in the remnant, rather than the deficiency. Jesus looks with eyes of hope, with creativity to bring together unlikely combinations to make stunning designs. We tend to scatter. When we do, let us look to God to put us back together again in unexpected ways. Let us be ready to be healed, to be brought back into relationship with those we might have written off. We are all reaching for the fringe of his cloak to be joined with him, to have new life. And we find him reaching out to us and we find ourselves joined then to everyone else, no longer a scrap, but part of something bigger, a web of compassion and love, a quilt of new life, a house of warmth and shelter, a meal of healing, the body of Christ.
This week, I made a boy cry at VBS. But God gives us second chances and often so do little boys. Maybe that’s part of what Jesus was saying when he told us to be like little children. He wanted us to forgive. So God took the scraps, the scattered remnant and sewed us back together again. God is restoring us to health and wholeness and making us part of God’s beautiful quilt, a creative combination of colors and shapes, to bring warmth and life into our lives and the lives of those around us.
Gospel: Mark 6:30-34, 53-56
Psalm 23
1st Reading: Jeremiah 23:1-6
2nd Reading: Ephesians 2:11-22
This week, at Vacation Bible School, I made a little boy cry. It will probably take me longer to get over it than him. In fact he was back the next day and feeling fine and we had a positive interaction, although I was sure not to mention the previous day’s incident. I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings. Sometimes I forget that some people see me like the principal of the school. I am in authority. These kids don’t know me, even if I know them, even if I baptized them and pray for them. Of course the last thing we want from Bible School is for a kid or volunteer to have a bad experience of church or the pastor. It is all about having a good experience. But any time people come together, whether it is for VBS or anything else, the potential for division is automatically created.
I hurt this boy’s feelings and now I hear from Jesus’ own lips, “Woe to the shepherds that scatter the flock.” I just know he’s talking about me. This boy will be fine and hopefully have not lasting effects from this shepherd, but what about all the other people I’ve offended or driven off or failed in one way or another?
This isn’t just about pastors either. You might not consider yourselves shepherds, but you are Christians, held to a high standard. It says in the Gospel of Luke, “To those whom much is given, much is expected.” There are people who don’t like you, who have hurt you or been hurt by you, people with whom you feel a wedge in your life, where the hope of reconciliation is pretty much nonexistent and that a conversation about a toy boat can’t fix. Yet much is expected of us, who have been given everything that means anything, from God, our father.
We’re separate and broken from each other. That’s part of being in a state of sin. And woe to us! Yes it does feel pretty woeful. I hate conflict. I want everyone to like me. But to be in relationship is to take a risk—a risk of hurting someone’s feelings. We can’t all agree. We don’t all communicate the same way. We all have different levels of sensitivity. We’re all going to experience woe, and the regret of scattering the flock, of breaking something that was beautiful, of driving away reasonable people.
The Old Testament reading speaks of a scattered remnant. If you do any sewing, this brings to mind of course the scraps, the fabric left over at the end of a bolt of material. If you don’t sew, maybe you can relate to using scraps of wood or what is left of a can of paint to complete a project, or using the leftovers in your kitchen to make something delicious for dinner.
I love remnants. My grandma made me a quilt out of remnants. Looking at it with my mom, we point out together which blocks were made from scraps from my mother’s childhood dresses, or aprons grandma made. The scraps bring back memories of more than what we wore, but of what we did as we wore those handmade treasures. The quilt brings back memories of twirling skirts, or cooking with mom, or rolling down the hills, or getting ready for bed.
It is so much fun to search for exactly the right piece of fabric to complete a project. Often at the fabric store, I stop by the shelf of remnants to see what’s there. It is all half-price and I can’t resist a bargain. You never know what you might find, that you wouldn’t have thought of, that will work for a project in progress.
My favorite place to get scraps is at the Goodwill, and more than that at the Goodwill outlet store, or “The Bins” as it is commonly known. There I dig through mounds of clothes, broken toys, bits of paper, and every other kind of trash you could think of to find treasures. Once I spent a half an hour gathering beautiful glass beads at the bottom of one of these bins. I spent about 25 cents for what I would have paid more than ten dollars for at the regular store, but I had to dig and pick every last one of those little beads out of the bottom of that bin. At the bins I’ve found maternity clothes, books for children and adults, a plastic storage bin that I use as a tub to bathe my giant baby. The thing I like to find most is fabric remnants. I especially love it when I find some quilt squares already assembled. I made a quilt for my cousin’s wedding from 10 large quilt squares I found at the bins. Sometimes you find some already assembled squares plus some pieces cut out ready to be sewn and often fat quarters of the same fabric waiting to be cut to fill in the gaps. I don’t often have the time and patience to make a whole quilt myself, but if I can complete someone else’s project, it can be very satisfying. I try to imagine the person that started this quilt. Did they give up? Did they die? Who was this project intended for? I like picking up where they left off.
Jesus loved the remnants, too. He loved everybody, but the remnants were crying out to be used in a project of God’s design. They were just begging to be gathered. The sick were following him from place to place in the Gospel, just hoping to touch the remnant of his cloak, to feel connected to him, to find hope, to believe wholeness was possible for them. He needed some rest, but he also had compassion for them and he was trying to balance the two.
We have a tendency to scatter the flock. We tend to break apart what God has brought together. Of course we try not to do it and we try to learn from our mistakes not to repeat them. I know that with small children, I should consider asking their grandparent to explain things to them, instead of doing it myself. I need to carefully choose my words and actions. I want to be someone who gathers rather than scatters. And yet I am aware, that I, too, am a remnant, a scrap that experiences separation from others. I need Jesus to sew me together with other scraps to make something beautiful and useful. In some ways all I can do is to be available to be sewn together. I can be aware of my incompleteness. I can look forward to making connections with others. Maybe I can smooth out some of my rough edges so I can fit with others around me.
We rip apart the fabric, saw the wood, and cut the vegetables. It is usually with the intention of making something from it. We aren’t trying to be hurtful. Sometimes someone else has started the project and we get to be Jesus’ sewing machine or hammer helping to put things together in a new way, to make something useful out of what was just a scrap, a remnant, a nothing. Sometimes we start a project and someone else gets to finish it. But always it is God working through us to gather the flock, to heal, to feed, to soothe, to bless.
Jesus is digging through the trash heap, but he doesn’t see trash. He sees something ready to be gathered, healed, adopted, brought into relationship, sewn, glued, or attached. Jesus sees the potential there in the remnant, rather than the deficiency. Jesus looks with eyes of hope, with creativity to bring together unlikely combinations to make stunning designs. We tend to scatter. When we do, let us look to God to put us back together again in unexpected ways. Let us be ready to be healed, to be brought back into relationship with those we might have written off. We are all reaching for the fringe of his cloak to be joined with him, to have new life. And we find him reaching out to us and we find ourselves joined then to everyone else, no longer a scrap, but part of something bigger, a web of compassion and love, a quilt of new life, a house of warmth and shelter, a meal of healing, the body of Christ.
This week, I made a boy cry at VBS. But God gives us second chances and often so do little boys. Maybe that’s part of what Jesus was saying when he told us to be like little children. He wanted us to forgive. So God took the scraps, the scattered remnant and sewed us back together again. God is restoring us to health and wholeness and making us part of God’s beautiful quilt, a creative combination of colors and shapes, to bring warmth and life into our lives and the lives of those around us.
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