Gospel: Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21
1st Reading: Joel 2:1-2, 12-17
Psalm 51:1-17
2nd Reading: 2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10
There are three kinds of particles in soil that are categorized by size. They are sand, which is the largest, clay which is the smallest, and silt, which is in between. You can tell what kind of soil you have, if it isn't already obvious to you, with a simple test of taking a cup of soil from your garden and putting in a glass jar with a quart of water and shake it up. The sand settles quickly, within a minute or two. The silt settles within an hour, and clay can take a day or two to finally settle in the water. Then you can see the different kinds of soils by the layers in your jar.
I reflected on the size of the particles as I mixed the ash with oil today. Ashes for Ash Wednesday ought to be smearable onto someone's forehead, without too many large pieces falling into people's eyes. Ash is small particles. It makes for clay soil.
If you have a garden with clay soil, you may think it is the bane of your existence, because you want there to be spaces in your soil for roots to be able to permeate and because you need oxygen in there to make the chemical reactions happen in your soil that makes nutrients available for your plants. Clay is actually good to have in your soil, because water sticks to all the surfaces of a particle of clay. Clay holds a lot of water and your plants need that water.
Ash makes for really tiny particles in soil. Today we smear ourselves with ash and dust, consider where we come from and where we are going, and what really matters.
We smear ourselves with dust. This is a very ancient practice. I looked up the custom of using Ashes during mourning or repentance and this is what I found. The use of ashes to indicate mourning, deep repentance or humility goes back over three thousand years and involved many cultures. As early as 800 BC, Homer wrote about it in The Iliad, and records show that it was practiced by Greeks, by Hebrews and by many other cultures of the western Mediterranean. Ashes were regarded as a symbol of personal remorse and sadness.
There are many Old Testament references to the practice. Here are a few:
Job 42:6 "Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes." Job repented in sackcloth and ashes while prophesying the Babylonian captivity of Jerusalem.
Dan 9:3 (c. 550 B.C.) "And I set my face unto the Lord God, to seek by prayer and supplications, with fasting, and sackcloth, and ashes."
Jonah 3:5-6 In the fifth century B.C., after Jonah's preaching of conversion and repentance, the town of Nineveh proclaimed a fast and put on sackcloth, and the king covered himself with sackcloth and sat in the ashes.
Esther 4:1 "When Mordecai perceived all that was done [the decree of King Xerxes, 485-464 B.C., of Persia to kill all of the Jewish people in the Persian Empire], Mordecai rent his clothes, and put on sackcloth with ashes, and went out into the midst of the city, and cried with a loud and a bitter cry."
Tertullian (c. 160-220 AD) wrote that the penitent must "live without joy in the roughness of sackcloth and the squalor of ashes."
Maybe, with the mark of the ashes, we can't pretend that everything is ok, when it clearly isn't. It is outward and visible and disturbing to have dirt on our faces. Other people see it. We are constantly reminded of it. But when we are in the process of repenting, that is what it is like on the inside. There is something that is smudged. It isn't a permanent character flaw or something that you can't forgive yourself for, but there is something to be working on that isn't right. It could be better and sometimes a whole lot better.
At Camp Odyssey, we often talk about cleaning our windshield. Driving through life we pick up dust and dirt and dead bugs, which is the racism and homophobia, and our prejudices we come into contact with in our lives. They obscure our view of the world and especially other people. Once in a while we need to stop and really see our windshield—how dirty it is. And then we need to clean our windshield. We need to decide that we aren't going to look at the world that way anymore and clean it off, see people for who they really are.
This is the way it is with all sin, not just the sin of prejudice. We are made good, but we get smudges and streaks as we go through life and we must stop at times to examine the dirt and ashes we have on us and organize a cleanup.
Dirt, dust, ash, it doesn't have a positive or negative value. Soil is necessary for life, to feed plants, for roots to grow in, to provide nutrients. It is just when it gets where it isn't supposed to that we think of it as bad. When it is on us, we want to wash ourselves. When it is in our house, we want to sweep it up, because we prefer order and predictability.
Dirt doesn't lend itself to predictability. There are so many amazing things in there. Not in this ash that I am giving you tonight. It has been burned. It has been purified by fire. This ash doesn't have all the properties that soil has, all the microbes and insects and so forth. But this ash will go back to the soil. Some will brush off of you and the carbon will join with other elements to make new compounds in the soil. Plants and insects and microbes will feed on it and turn it into other things. With soil, nothing stays the same for long. There are always new things going on in there and that is a good thing, because if that kind of thing every quit going on, life would cease to exist for us on earth.
The ashes and dust tonight are a reminder of where we come from, that God fashioned humankind from the clay, those little particles coming together to make us, acknowledging that we are made of the same stuff as this. And someday, sooner or later, our bodies will go back to dust and be transformed into other creatures and soils and new life of other sorts. We come from somewhere holy, from elements and life created by God. We are loved by God, with all the smudges, the mistakes, the imperfections. But since we have the grace and new life of God and make ourselves so miserable, wouldn't we want to thank God for loving us, and make our own lives and the lives around us a little better by making a change, by turning from our sin and embarking on the new life God is inviting us to right now? That is the journey of lent. Finally, we are going somewhere, our bodies and our failings are temporary, but our relationship with all other things in the universe goes on and is eternal. Sometimes we need to put a little smudge on our foreheads to remember what really lasts and matters, and live in a way that honors those connections.
From the broken pottery that we have become, God picks up our pieces and wets us in the waters of baptism, joining us together again, creating a beautiful mosaic, all people together, all living things united with God, giving and receiving life and giving thanks to the one who marks us with the cross at baptism and marks us again and again as members of one family united by love.
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
February 15, 2015
Gospel: Mark 9:2-9
1st Reading: 2 Kings 2:1-12
Reading: 2 Corinthians 4:3-6
I remember visiting my pastor in his office when I was about 18 years old. I had been considering entering the ministry since I was 12 or 13. But it seemed like the magic was gone. I didn't feel as passionate about it as I had before. How could I recapture the spark? Did it mean that I should reconsider my path?
My pastor told me that faith was like a marriage—not something I could particularly relate to. He said when you first fall in love, you feel almost sick, can't quit thinking about the person, have all kinds of positive strong feelings about the person. And the newness wears off. But being head over heels in love wasn't better than the feelings that come with being someone long-term. Those later feelings were deeper and more realistic. While it might not be so exciting and would be boring at times, that kind of relationship could sustain a couple through many trying times.
My pastor was telling me that faith can be similar to a marriage. There are some moments of intense feelings and experience, and a lot of times of the day to day long-haul types of experience that can end up deepening our relationship with God and sustaining us in all kinds of trouble.
In life we have brief moments of glory and passion, but like Peter's experience on the mountain top, the cloud quickly overshadows us. Maybe, like Peter, we want to make it last, to stay there and live in that moment of bliss forever, but that isn't what life is for. I don't know if we see more clearly in those moments of bright clarity, or if it is such a bright flash, momentary and disorienting so that maybe it is the overshadowing cloud that is more real, when we learn more, when we grow more, when we are more likely to hear the voice of God speaking to us, when we are more likely to listen to Jesus and less distracted by the glory that we hope to gain for ourselves.
Listening is the key, whether we are talking about marriage or faith. And I tell you, listening will take us out of that glory and into the cloud. When we listen to Jesus, we listen to the poor and neglected. We're going to hear things that challenge us. This isn't someone telling us what we want to hear. This is stuff that is hard to hear, things about ourselves, about the reality of the world around us, and about our neighbor's experience, which is never quite going to match ours.
That doesn't mean the moments of glory are worthless. They can be very life-giving. They can energize us. They can give us a vision of what could be. For the Disciples on the mountain top, they were seeing Jesus as he truly is, full of light and warmth, glowing with love, glorious and beautiful. Yet the world was not ready for that. Powerful men didn't want to be outshone by some poor, homeless carpenter. They were tired of Jesus putting them in their place. They wanted to do whatever it took to put him in his place. The cloud was looming for the diciples. If they really listen to him, they will know that he will suffer and die. He's been trying to tell them. But this vision of his glory may sustain them for the journey. They see on the mountaintop, the end of the story. Knowing that, it may help them endure the coming trials they will face.
On Interfaith Advocacy Day, several of us went to Salem to talk with our legislators. Before we ever did that, we had a whole morning of education on the issues. I went to the forum on economic issues and there I got a picture of how things could be if we made our society more fair. As it stands now, it is standard practice for the lowest wage workers to experience wage theft—their tips being stolen, being expected to come in a half hour early without pay, being considered a contract employee when that clearly isn't the case. Some “Independent contrators” who were cleaning office buildings were making less than $3 an hour. This is already against the law, but there is very little enforcement. In the sessions, we got a glimpse of our state without wage theft—a more fair and glorious place to live, and one that we can all feel better about. Getting there is not going to be quick or easy, but now that we see clearly what has been going on and what needs to change, even though we enter the cloud of challenge and difficulty, we have this vision of how things ought to be that will sustain us.
In my Master Gardener Class, I am starting to get a vision of what could be if I can use scientifically proven information to make my garden better. We looked at a slide the other day at seeds that were started in regular potting mix next to those started in seedling mix. The difference was amazing. I got a picture of what could be if I changed even one thing about how I garden. That momentary glimpse at glory will sustain me as I either cough up the extra money for seedling mix or put in the manual labor to make it myself. I got that momentary flash of light, but I will soon be entering the cloud of listening, and hard work, and the challenge that lies before me. Having a picture in my mind of what could be will sustain me in the coming months and longer.
But I also think that maybe those moments of glory might not be that infrequent. Maybe Jesus was always like that, glowing and glorious, but it was only in that moment that the Disciples were able to see it. Maybe we can train our eye to look for those flashes of glory in every day life. There are people I know who have trained their eye to see those moments and appreciate them. One was Judith. Another is Betsy Belles. It might have been something in their upbringing, someone they met who taught them, but most people I know like this, have a discipline, they practice this way of looking at the world. They show us how to see the world in the same way. We are actually born to see the world in awe and wonder. But somewhere along the line some of us lose that ability—maybe it is like marriage. It isn't new or fun anymore or exciting in the same way, and we start worrying about what other people think. We can't go around everywhere “oooooohing and ahhhing” about every little rock or squirrel or fan or whatever it happens to be or people look at us funny. But isn't it great to have these little people around us, so that we can see through their eyes the wonders of this world and share in more of those moments of profound glory in a slug, in the grain of wood, in a flavor or color, or in a person we never would have noticed except these little people notice and remind us of the glory all around us that we take for granted.
If you have recently seen the glory of the Lord, if you have a vision of what can be and indeed what will be, let that vision sustain you, and take the time to listen. Listen to the pain of people and this land and let God transfigure this world through you to be the kind of world we want to live in and want for our children.
If you are in the cloud of confusion and doubt and boredom, know that God is still with you. And even though you may not be able to see them, many of your friends and neighbors are walking this path with you, trudging along from day to day, trying to hear God's voice and direction, trying to see through the fog, trying to make their way. This is a fine place to hone your listening skills, to learn to deal with disappointment, to find humility, and to build up your strength.
The really exciting thing here is, that even though Jesus tells the Disciples not to tell anyone, we know from this story that Jesus will be seen as he is. He will show up even after we put him to death, deny him, hurt him. He will show up in the poor and challenging people in our lives. He will show up teaching us how to serve. He will show up when we are confused or arrogant. Jesus is present and glorious and is our brother in glory. Although we will also go through many times of fear and pain, we also shine with the love of God and are part of his family. Now we get to go look for that glow in others, that glory, that beauty, that challenge, that hope. And we get to train our eye to see that glory—to hear it in a song, to taste it in communion, to know it in a handshake or a moment of eye contact, and to let ourselves hope for the future that Jesus had in mind when we would all know our connections with every other living thing, past, present, and future, and rather than struggle to hang on to one particular experience, that we would simply notice and give thanks, and listen for the next encounter with the holy in this moment and this moment and this moment.
1st Reading: 2 Kings 2:1-12
Reading: 2 Corinthians 4:3-6
I remember visiting my pastor in his office when I was about 18 years old. I had been considering entering the ministry since I was 12 or 13. But it seemed like the magic was gone. I didn't feel as passionate about it as I had before. How could I recapture the spark? Did it mean that I should reconsider my path?
My pastor told me that faith was like a marriage—not something I could particularly relate to. He said when you first fall in love, you feel almost sick, can't quit thinking about the person, have all kinds of positive strong feelings about the person. And the newness wears off. But being head over heels in love wasn't better than the feelings that come with being someone long-term. Those later feelings were deeper and more realistic. While it might not be so exciting and would be boring at times, that kind of relationship could sustain a couple through many trying times.
My pastor was telling me that faith can be similar to a marriage. There are some moments of intense feelings and experience, and a lot of times of the day to day long-haul types of experience that can end up deepening our relationship with God and sustaining us in all kinds of trouble.
In life we have brief moments of glory and passion, but like Peter's experience on the mountain top, the cloud quickly overshadows us. Maybe, like Peter, we want to make it last, to stay there and live in that moment of bliss forever, but that isn't what life is for. I don't know if we see more clearly in those moments of bright clarity, or if it is such a bright flash, momentary and disorienting so that maybe it is the overshadowing cloud that is more real, when we learn more, when we grow more, when we are more likely to hear the voice of God speaking to us, when we are more likely to listen to Jesus and less distracted by the glory that we hope to gain for ourselves.
Listening is the key, whether we are talking about marriage or faith. And I tell you, listening will take us out of that glory and into the cloud. When we listen to Jesus, we listen to the poor and neglected. We're going to hear things that challenge us. This isn't someone telling us what we want to hear. This is stuff that is hard to hear, things about ourselves, about the reality of the world around us, and about our neighbor's experience, which is never quite going to match ours.
That doesn't mean the moments of glory are worthless. They can be very life-giving. They can energize us. They can give us a vision of what could be. For the Disciples on the mountain top, they were seeing Jesus as he truly is, full of light and warmth, glowing with love, glorious and beautiful. Yet the world was not ready for that. Powerful men didn't want to be outshone by some poor, homeless carpenter. They were tired of Jesus putting them in their place. They wanted to do whatever it took to put him in his place. The cloud was looming for the diciples. If they really listen to him, they will know that he will suffer and die. He's been trying to tell them. But this vision of his glory may sustain them for the journey. They see on the mountaintop, the end of the story. Knowing that, it may help them endure the coming trials they will face.
On Interfaith Advocacy Day, several of us went to Salem to talk with our legislators. Before we ever did that, we had a whole morning of education on the issues. I went to the forum on economic issues and there I got a picture of how things could be if we made our society more fair. As it stands now, it is standard practice for the lowest wage workers to experience wage theft—their tips being stolen, being expected to come in a half hour early without pay, being considered a contract employee when that clearly isn't the case. Some “Independent contrators” who were cleaning office buildings were making less than $3 an hour. This is already against the law, but there is very little enforcement. In the sessions, we got a glimpse of our state without wage theft—a more fair and glorious place to live, and one that we can all feel better about. Getting there is not going to be quick or easy, but now that we see clearly what has been going on and what needs to change, even though we enter the cloud of challenge and difficulty, we have this vision of how things ought to be that will sustain us.
In my Master Gardener Class, I am starting to get a vision of what could be if I can use scientifically proven information to make my garden better. We looked at a slide the other day at seeds that were started in regular potting mix next to those started in seedling mix. The difference was amazing. I got a picture of what could be if I changed even one thing about how I garden. That momentary glimpse at glory will sustain me as I either cough up the extra money for seedling mix or put in the manual labor to make it myself. I got that momentary flash of light, but I will soon be entering the cloud of listening, and hard work, and the challenge that lies before me. Having a picture in my mind of what could be will sustain me in the coming months and longer.
But I also think that maybe those moments of glory might not be that infrequent. Maybe Jesus was always like that, glowing and glorious, but it was only in that moment that the Disciples were able to see it. Maybe we can train our eye to look for those flashes of glory in every day life. There are people I know who have trained their eye to see those moments and appreciate them. One was Judith. Another is Betsy Belles. It might have been something in their upbringing, someone they met who taught them, but most people I know like this, have a discipline, they practice this way of looking at the world. They show us how to see the world in the same way. We are actually born to see the world in awe and wonder. But somewhere along the line some of us lose that ability—maybe it is like marriage. It isn't new or fun anymore or exciting in the same way, and we start worrying about what other people think. We can't go around everywhere “oooooohing and ahhhing” about every little rock or squirrel or fan or whatever it happens to be or people look at us funny. But isn't it great to have these little people around us, so that we can see through their eyes the wonders of this world and share in more of those moments of profound glory in a slug, in the grain of wood, in a flavor or color, or in a person we never would have noticed except these little people notice and remind us of the glory all around us that we take for granted.
If you have recently seen the glory of the Lord, if you have a vision of what can be and indeed what will be, let that vision sustain you, and take the time to listen. Listen to the pain of people and this land and let God transfigure this world through you to be the kind of world we want to live in and want for our children.
If you are in the cloud of confusion and doubt and boredom, know that God is still with you. And even though you may not be able to see them, many of your friends and neighbors are walking this path with you, trudging along from day to day, trying to hear God's voice and direction, trying to see through the fog, trying to make their way. This is a fine place to hone your listening skills, to learn to deal with disappointment, to find humility, and to build up your strength.
The really exciting thing here is, that even though Jesus tells the Disciples not to tell anyone, we know from this story that Jesus will be seen as he is. He will show up even after we put him to death, deny him, hurt him. He will show up in the poor and challenging people in our lives. He will show up teaching us how to serve. He will show up when we are confused or arrogant. Jesus is present and glorious and is our brother in glory. Although we will also go through many times of fear and pain, we also shine with the love of God and are part of his family. Now we get to go look for that glow in others, that glory, that beauty, that challenge, that hope. And we get to train our eye to see that glory—to hear it in a song, to taste it in communion, to know it in a handshake or a moment of eye contact, and to let ourselves hope for the future that Jesus had in mind when we would all know our connections with every other living thing, past, present, and future, and rather than struggle to hang on to one particular experience, that we would simply notice and give thanks, and listen for the next encounter with the holy in this moment and this moment and this moment.
Monday, February 9, 2015
February 8, 2015
Gospel: Mark 1:29-39
1st Reading: Isaiah 40:21-31
2nd Reading: 1 Corinthians 9:16-23
“Those who wait for the LORD” consider a time in your life when you waited. What were you waiting for? What was it like to wait? How long did you have to wait? Was it worth the wait? Did you learn anything about waiting in the process? What are you waiting for now? How is God involved in your waiting?
“Those who wait for the LORD...(wait for it) shall renew their strength.” Consider a time you felt small and insignificant. What was it like? Consider a time you felt strong. What was the source of that strength? What did you do with the strength you found?
“Those who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles.” Feel the initial pull as you mount up with wings of eagles, feel your feet leaving the floor. Feel yourself climbing into the sky. Feel yourself in flight, the weightlessness of your body, the movement through the air. Look at the world around you, the world below. What do you see? What do you experience? Where will you go with this new freedom? Where might it take you?
“Those who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary.” You find yourself running now. Feel your heart beating as you move swiftly. Feel all your cells fully alive. Where will your feet take you? Normally that would be limited by your energy, but your energy is coming from the source of all life and energy—from God. You are realizing there is no limit, no weariness coming. Instead you find you have the means to get from where you are now to your goal without becoming tired.
“Those who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.” And so you slow to a walk. Before, you were moving too fast to take in the world around you. But now you slow down and you see the beautiful world around you. You smell the rain, the cut grass, the leaves decomposing, a whiff of smoke from someone's chimney. You hear the sounds of children on a playground, some music coming from a car nearby, a dog barking. You see other people on their journey. Some are weary and tired. Some need your help. Others are discovering a boundless energy like you, and picturing where they'd like their walk to take them. Since you find you can walk endlessly you have the freedom to choose anywhere you'd like to walk and the meaning of each step, the gift that each step can be to you or to another person. Each step is an awakening, an opening to the freedom that God offers. Each step an increase in awareness of God's healing power for you, for this earth, and for the people around you. Where will your next step take you? And the one after that? And the one after that?
1st Reading: Isaiah 40:21-31
2nd Reading: 1 Corinthians 9:16-23
“Those who wait for the LORD” consider a time in your life when you waited. What were you waiting for? What was it like to wait? How long did you have to wait? Was it worth the wait? Did you learn anything about waiting in the process? What are you waiting for now? How is God involved in your waiting?
“Those who wait for the LORD...(wait for it) shall renew their strength.” Consider a time you felt small and insignificant. What was it like? Consider a time you felt strong. What was the source of that strength? What did you do with the strength you found?
“Those who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles.” Feel the initial pull as you mount up with wings of eagles, feel your feet leaving the floor. Feel yourself climbing into the sky. Feel yourself in flight, the weightlessness of your body, the movement through the air. Look at the world around you, the world below. What do you see? What do you experience? Where will you go with this new freedom? Where might it take you?
“Those who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary.” You find yourself running now. Feel your heart beating as you move swiftly. Feel all your cells fully alive. Where will your feet take you? Normally that would be limited by your energy, but your energy is coming from the source of all life and energy—from God. You are realizing there is no limit, no weariness coming. Instead you find you have the means to get from where you are now to your goal without becoming tired.
“Those who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.” And so you slow to a walk. Before, you were moving too fast to take in the world around you. But now you slow down and you see the beautiful world around you. You smell the rain, the cut grass, the leaves decomposing, a whiff of smoke from someone's chimney. You hear the sounds of children on a playground, some music coming from a car nearby, a dog barking. You see other people on their journey. Some are weary and tired. Some need your help. Others are discovering a boundless energy like you, and picturing where they'd like their walk to take them. Since you find you can walk endlessly you have the freedom to choose anywhere you'd like to walk and the meaning of each step, the gift that each step can be to you or to another person. Each step is an awakening, an opening to the freedom that God offers. Each step an increase in awareness of God's healing power for you, for this earth, and for the people around you. Where will your next step take you? And the one after that? And the one after that?
Tuesday, February 3, 2015
February 1, 2015
Gospel: Mark 1:21-28
1st Reading: Deuteronomy 18:15-20
2nd Reading: 1 Corinthians 8:1-13
I know you've all been waiting for word from the pulpit about whether it is okay to eat food offered to idols, so I'm prepared to hand down my final word on the subject. All jokes aside, this reading is really about what it means to be in community, and that is that we are going to have disagreements about how to live our faith. On most things, especially regarding food and other matters of taste and opinion, it doesn't really matter to God. What matters is that we show love to our neighbor the best we can. For the Corinthians, that meant not eating food offered to idols, not because God cares, but because our neighbor might misunderstand and be led to worship other gods because of our eating habits and preferences.
I don't know what our modern day equivalent would be, but we do have a lot of strong feelings and associations around food. Take coffee hour—oh here we go! Want to get a lot of feathers ruffled, bring up coffee hour. It's just food people! Or is it?
There are some who have provided us with beautiful, luscious coffee hour refreshments. This is a ministry they provide. They reason, this keeps people visiting longer at social time—as long as there is food to eat, folks stay and visit and support one another. From this point of view, the measure of a good coffee hour is that you can't get people to leave and there is food left over—a sign that there was more than enough. A biblical example of this would be the story of Jesus feeding the 5000.
There are some who are more of the mind that coffee hour should be spare. It shouldn't be elaborate, because there are people here who might feel too intimidated to sign up to bring treats for coffee hour. They might feel they have to match the amount and quality and variety that some others provide. Furthermore, some believe that with a hungry world out there, it is a problem for us to dine so heartily on so many treats. A biblical example of this kind of coffee hour would be the story of Jesus tempted in the Wilderness, fasting for 40 days.
Some want to just bring cookies, like the good old days. But there are diabetics and children whose parents don't just want their kids eating sweets, so we bring in the cheese and crackers and pretty soon the fruit, and the veggies who are more health-conscious, etc. Are those who do a more elaborate coffee hour wrong? No! How about those who do a more simplified version? There is nothing wrong with that approach either.
So if we can have all this controversy and drama around coffee hour (I can attest that I have literally heard hours and hours of opinions on this), think what kinds of feelings and beliefs come up around Holy Communion—who is welcome to receive, how many Sundays a month it should be offered, what kind of bread, what kind of beverage, what kind of cups, who can serve it, should we stand or kneel, should we sing or not during distribution, and so forth.
The good news is, it doesn't matter to God. What matters is that we get together as a community and figure out how to talk about what works best for us and, more importantly, what works best for our neighbor, who may not be used to the way we do things. It is good that we are in community with a wide variety of styles and preferences at coffee hour. That way everyone knows it is safe to be yourself and have your own style in this and any other area of your life. No matter what, you are welcome here and may participate in whatever activities you want to on whatever level suits you.
The bad news is, we waste a lot of time and energy talking about this stuff that doesn't matter to God, when we could be using that energy to help somebody. Furthermore, outsiders see us arguing about stuff that doesn't matters, whether it be coffee hour, human sexuality, organ versus piano, what color to paint the church, and they don't want to be part of that. They also correctly perceive that these arguments are often hiding some other disconnect between us and possibly keeping us from sharing our deeper feelings and values with each other.
I rarely take arguments about food or traditions at face value. Often they are about trust, insecurity, power and so forth. For instance, when my husband I have debates about how to load the dishwasher, I figure there is something else going on, because really the dishwasher doesn't matter. I was listening to a story on NPR this week by an author studying couples and singles and this story reassured me that couples are doomed to a lifetime of arguing about household chores, but in the end, if you could stand it and you didn't kill each other, it was worth it to have someone to take you to the doctor and provide some companionship in life. I have to ask myself, if Nick brings up that I snuck the knives into the dishwasher instead of handwashing them, is there some other part of his life that he isn't feeling in control that he feels he needs to control this? Has he had a bad day? If I bring it up, it is because I'm not feeling valued and supported with the household chores? There is something going on behind most petty arguments, and maybe even all of them.
So here comes Jesus in the Gospel this morning—the real authority on every matter. Of course I always figure Jesus is on my side. I like to be right more than just about anything else. Jesus, please tell us, what kind of coffee hour is the right kind, paper or cloth napkins, wine or grape juice for the Lord's Supper, forks up or down in the dishwasher? He sees right through our petty disagreements and he isn't giving them the time of day. He doesn't get dragged into the discussion. I find that ignoring is becoming a valuable tool in my toolkit, especially as the mother of a toddler who is trying to get my attention with temper tantrums. Jesus ignores those in power and starts teaching right over them. And Jesus also looks around. He sees there someone who is hurting and he goes to him and frees him.
We are not Jesus, but we can learn from Jesus and follow him. I know I have a lot of learning to do. We all do. I hope that some time soon, when we find ourselves ranting about something so insignificant, we notice it and stop. We might, then, take a look inside ourselves and just be curious about why we're so angry or put out, what is really going on inside us that this is where we put our focus. I don't know what we'll find. I might even be a little afraid to find out. But it will be good for us to see ourselves clearly and then be able to express what need really is there that we haven't addressed—what grief, what fear, what shame. And secondly, I hope we would do as Jesus did and look around at those around us and see who might be on the fringes, who might be feeling left out, who looks a little lost and approach them.
It is Jesus noticing this tormented man and approaching him that changes everything. This changes the focus of the room from the teaching of the scribes that wasn't authoritative. It changes the center of the room as Jesus approaches the outer edge. Jesus doesn't walk in and say, “Look at me, everyone!” He focuses on someone who needs his healing presence and he invites us all to see those in our midst we never noticed before and to see their pain and suffering, acknowledge it and approach that person despite our fears and hesitation. It wasn't just Jesus blessing this man and freeing him. This man is the the only who recognized Jesus and named him and because of him, stories about Jesus start to spread. This man blesses Jesus. Blessing goes both ways. We have a sense of foreboding that eventually this will lead to Jesus' death, but we also know that there are three years of ministry ahead of him, that this fame will lead many to come to Jesus where they will find healing, where they will be freed, where petty disagreements about dietary preferences won't take center stage, but where topics like healing and disease and separation and fear will be addressed as well and where these suffering ones will be part of the conversation, contributing to the discussion instead of always just being talked about as if they aren't there.
These readings and our faith invite us to step out of the role of authority, to stop making ourselves the center of everything. Instead we place Jesus there and all the people he represented who never otherwise got noticed. Instead of putting our needs and preferences first, he invites us to think of others and the effects our choices and actions might make on them, to pay attention to them. Then our own petty arguments and differences will disappear and we can focus on the healing and life that matter to Jesus and ultimately matter to all of us.
1st Reading: Deuteronomy 18:15-20
2nd Reading: 1 Corinthians 8:1-13
I know you've all been waiting for word from the pulpit about whether it is okay to eat food offered to idols, so I'm prepared to hand down my final word on the subject. All jokes aside, this reading is really about what it means to be in community, and that is that we are going to have disagreements about how to live our faith. On most things, especially regarding food and other matters of taste and opinion, it doesn't really matter to God. What matters is that we show love to our neighbor the best we can. For the Corinthians, that meant not eating food offered to idols, not because God cares, but because our neighbor might misunderstand and be led to worship other gods because of our eating habits and preferences.
I don't know what our modern day equivalent would be, but we do have a lot of strong feelings and associations around food. Take coffee hour—oh here we go! Want to get a lot of feathers ruffled, bring up coffee hour. It's just food people! Or is it?
There are some who have provided us with beautiful, luscious coffee hour refreshments. This is a ministry they provide. They reason, this keeps people visiting longer at social time—as long as there is food to eat, folks stay and visit and support one another. From this point of view, the measure of a good coffee hour is that you can't get people to leave and there is food left over—a sign that there was more than enough. A biblical example of this would be the story of Jesus feeding the 5000.
There are some who are more of the mind that coffee hour should be spare. It shouldn't be elaborate, because there are people here who might feel too intimidated to sign up to bring treats for coffee hour. They might feel they have to match the amount and quality and variety that some others provide. Furthermore, some believe that with a hungry world out there, it is a problem for us to dine so heartily on so many treats. A biblical example of this kind of coffee hour would be the story of Jesus tempted in the Wilderness, fasting for 40 days.
Some want to just bring cookies, like the good old days. But there are diabetics and children whose parents don't just want their kids eating sweets, so we bring in the cheese and crackers and pretty soon the fruit, and the veggies who are more health-conscious, etc. Are those who do a more elaborate coffee hour wrong? No! How about those who do a more simplified version? There is nothing wrong with that approach either.
So if we can have all this controversy and drama around coffee hour (I can attest that I have literally heard hours and hours of opinions on this), think what kinds of feelings and beliefs come up around Holy Communion—who is welcome to receive, how many Sundays a month it should be offered, what kind of bread, what kind of beverage, what kind of cups, who can serve it, should we stand or kneel, should we sing or not during distribution, and so forth.
The good news is, it doesn't matter to God. What matters is that we get together as a community and figure out how to talk about what works best for us and, more importantly, what works best for our neighbor, who may not be used to the way we do things. It is good that we are in community with a wide variety of styles and preferences at coffee hour. That way everyone knows it is safe to be yourself and have your own style in this and any other area of your life. No matter what, you are welcome here and may participate in whatever activities you want to on whatever level suits you.
The bad news is, we waste a lot of time and energy talking about this stuff that doesn't matter to God, when we could be using that energy to help somebody. Furthermore, outsiders see us arguing about stuff that doesn't matters, whether it be coffee hour, human sexuality, organ versus piano, what color to paint the church, and they don't want to be part of that. They also correctly perceive that these arguments are often hiding some other disconnect between us and possibly keeping us from sharing our deeper feelings and values with each other.
I rarely take arguments about food or traditions at face value. Often they are about trust, insecurity, power and so forth. For instance, when my husband I have debates about how to load the dishwasher, I figure there is something else going on, because really the dishwasher doesn't matter. I was listening to a story on NPR this week by an author studying couples and singles and this story reassured me that couples are doomed to a lifetime of arguing about household chores, but in the end, if you could stand it and you didn't kill each other, it was worth it to have someone to take you to the doctor and provide some companionship in life. I have to ask myself, if Nick brings up that I snuck the knives into the dishwasher instead of handwashing them, is there some other part of his life that he isn't feeling in control that he feels he needs to control this? Has he had a bad day? If I bring it up, it is because I'm not feeling valued and supported with the household chores? There is something going on behind most petty arguments, and maybe even all of them.
So here comes Jesus in the Gospel this morning—the real authority on every matter. Of course I always figure Jesus is on my side. I like to be right more than just about anything else. Jesus, please tell us, what kind of coffee hour is the right kind, paper or cloth napkins, wine or grape juice for the Lord's Supper, forks up or down in the dishwasher? He sees right through our petty disagreements and he isn't giving them the time of day. He doesn't get dragged into the discussion. I find that ignoring is becoming a valuable tool in my toolkit, especially as the mother of a toddler who is trying to get my attention with temper tantrums. Jesus ignores those in power and starts teaching right over them. And Jesus also looks around. He sees there someone who is hurting and he goes to him and frees him.
We are not Jesus, but we can learn from Jesus and follow him. I know I have a lot of learning to do. We all do. I hope that some time soon, when we find ourselves ranting about something so insignificant, we notice it and stop. We might, then, take a look inside ourselves and just be curious about why we're so angry or put out, what is really going on inside us that this is where we put our focus. I don't know what we'll find. I might even be a little afraid to find out. But it will be good for us to see ourselves clearly and then be able to express what need really is there that we haven't addressed—what grief, what fear, what shame. And secondly, I hope we would do as Jesus did and look around at those around us and see who might be on the fringes, who might be feeling left out, who looks a little lost and approach them.
It is Jesus noticing this tormented man and approaching him that changes everything. This changes the focus of the room from the teaching of the scribes that wasn't authoritative. It changes the center of the room as Jesus approaches the outer edge. Jesus doesn't walk in and say, “Look at me, everyone!” He focuses on someone who needs his healing presence and he invites us all to see those in our midst we never noticed before and to see their pain and suffering, acknowledge it and approach that person despite our fears and hesitation. It wasn't just Jesus blessing this man and freeing him. This man is the the only who recognized Jesus and named him and because of him, stories about Jesus start to spread. This man blesses Jesus. Blessing goes both ways. We have a sense of foreboding that eventually this will lead to Jesus' death, but we also know that there are three years of ministry ahead of him, that this fame will lead many to come to Jesus where they will find healing, where they will be freed, where petty disagreements about dietary preferences won't take center stage, but where topics like healing and disease and separation and fear will be addressed as well and where these suffering ones will be part of the conversation, contributing to the discussion instead of always just being talked about as if they aren't there.
These readings and our faith invite us to step out of the role of authority, to stop making ourselves the center of everything. Instead we place Jesus there and all the people he represented who never otherwise got noticed. Instead of putting our needs and preferences first, he invites us to think of others and the effects our choices and actions might make on them, to pay attention to them. Then our own petty arguments and differences will disappear and we can focus on the healing and life that matter to Jesus and ultimately matter to all of us.
Tuesday, January 27, 2015
January 25, 2015
Gospel: Mark 1:14-20
1st Reading: Johah 3:1-5, 10
2nd Reading: 1 Corinthians 7:29-31
It is amazing how many little kid books talk about running away. We’d like to skip out on reading books like that to our toddler, but it seems to be a topic that’s hard to avoid. One favorite book is by Mercer Mayer, called “I was so mad.” You may have read this book before. The kid wants to do any number of things he’s not supposed to such as keep frogs in the bathtub, tickle the goldfish, prune the rose bush, juggle with eggs, and so forth and no one will let him, and so he gets so mad. It has been a good book for us to read so that our son can name one of his strongest emotions and know he isn’t alone. The problem is this kid threatens to run away from home. I’d rather wait until it occurs to Sterling or his school friends tell him that there is such a thing as running away. It is something many kids consider in their young lives, but I don’t like to think put ideas in his head. Maybe it is funny when little kids threaten it or attempt it, but bigger kids can pull it off and I can’t imagine the anguish of their parents until those kids come home.
In the scriptures for today, God is calling various people. Some come quickly when called and others run the other way.
We all have callings. We all have vocations. Some of our callings are in our work. Martin Luther talked about God calling all people. I went looking for Luther’s famous quote about how the woman who sweeps does God’s work as much as the monk who prays, but I’m sorry to tell you that there is no evidence that he ever said this. Furthermore the quote is more about works righteousness than it is about calling. It seems to say that God likes people to work hard and it is the quality of the work that gives glory to God. Luther’s doctrine of vocation is more about God calling us to work and service on behalf of our neighbor. God likes grocery clerks because the neighbor needs food. God likes teachers, because the neighbor needs an education. You get the idea.
We all have vocations and callings in our families, too. Some are called as aunts or uncles, parents, children of aging parents, brothers, sisters, and so forth.
God is always calling us. God calls us from our old realities and traps and falsehoods, into new life. God is calling us to bring us from a long-distance relationship into accord with God’s Kingdom, a relationship of presence and nearness and hope.
Jonah was called to preach to the people of Nineveh. Like the little critter from Sterling’s book, he ran away. We know what happened next to Jonah. He was thrown overboard, swallowed by a whale, and given three days to think about his refusal. This morning’s story picks up there. The word of the LORD came to Jonah a second time. I doubt he was happy to hear from God again. I can just hear him declaring how mad he is. He’s mad at the people of Nineveh. He’s mad at God. He’s just plain grouchy. But he tried to run away and found himself in the belly of a big fish and spewed out on the shore. There would be no running away. He just hoped it was all a co-incidence. But no, now God is telling him again to go to Nineveh.
Nineveh was a Gentile nation. Why should they listen to Jonah or Yahweh? Nineveh was a very violent city. Certainly Jonah feared for his life. I doubt any of us would have accepted the assignment the first time around. We probably would have run away, too. And at times we have all run away from what we knew was right, what we knew was our calling. Sometimes we’ve been corrected, either by our nagging conscience, or by someone who could see the situation more clearly than we could. Sometimes we’ve corrected our course. Other times we’ve just continued running.
Contrast this with the disciples. They immediately dropped their nets and followed Jesus. What was so different about them? Did they know Jesus from before? Was his personality just so magnetic that they couldn’t help themselves? Or maybe they were fed up and dissatisfied with being fishermen, maybe they had no hopes for their future, that when they heard someone articulating the vision that did hold hope and a future, they were just ready to go. They were tired of God far away and ready for God coming near. They were ready to fish for people.
The Corinthians were a mixture of Jonah and the Disciples. Sometimes they are running to follow God and sometimes they were running the other way. Paul urges them to run toward God and not all the temptations of the world. For him there was an urgency to the running, God’s Kingdom is now, it is present, we had all better listen to God’s calling. Furthermore, the world was dangerous and threatening. Christians were being persecuted. They were misunderstanding the Gospel and leading each other into temptation. They were forgetting what Paul had taught them. They were forgetting their calling and vocation. So Paul reminds them. He urges them to live in the moment—not to be too concerned with the past or preparing for the future. In this threatening world, all you had was today. You didn’t know what tomorrow would bring and you couldn’t control that anyway. All we have is today. This reminds me of people who get a diagnosis of a life-threatening disease. Sometimes they have a sense of life that leads them to appreciate the moment. You can’t tell someone to live this way, in the moment. But sometimes we are given the gift of living in the moment. I remember feeling this way when Sterling was born. I’m hoping to recapture it a bit in my sabbatical. Sometimes we can live this way when we take a vacation or by practicing mindfulness techniques such as an alarm that reminds you to focus on the moment or daily devotions or even service projects and volunteering.
We are like the Disciples. We are usually somewhere on the continuum between running completely in the other direction when God calls us and running straight into God’s loving arms. And I think it depends on how comfortable we are verses how fed up we are, which direction we run because when we run to God we are eager and open for the new life God is offering. When we run the other way, it is often because we are benefitting from the status quo and we don’t want anything to change. We tend to live lives of privilege and comfort and because of that we often run the other direction. But we also know times of hardship and pain and we get fed up with this world and ready for the new life God offers.
In what ways are we fed up? In what ways are we ready for God’s reign?
Every time we have the pantry, I know I feel fed up. I get fed up with a world where people can’t find meaningful work, where the elderly and disabled fall through the cracks, where children are suffering because we don’t see food as a basic human right, and where nutrition is absent in the most affordable foods, and that it is so much about money and so little about giving life. It makes me feel that the work of the pantry is so important, plus the fact that it breaks down the barriers between the congregations that serve, it breaks down barriers between insiders and outsiders for our church, and I always learn something about myself and am challenged in my assumptions. As a result of the feeling of being fed up, many of us throw ourselves more into the work of the pantry. Others have been thinking more about advocacy or expanding our work in the areas of nutrition, maybe having some cooking and canning classes. In a couple of weeks four of us are traveling to Salem to talk to our legislators about the needs in our community and to hear what we can do that can help make the change this neighborhood needs. Any of you would be welcome to come to Ecumenical Advocacy Day. Talk to me if you want to know more.
I am not exactly fed up, but my body and my mind are dead tired as I try to plan for the 11th time Christmas, Lent, Easter—what will help people connect with God, what will wake them up, what will help them give and receive from this community, what can I say that I haven’t already said, how can I say what needs to be said in a way it can be heard? If I don’t take the time to listen to the Spirit, how can I expect to hear God in a new way and how can I expect you to take the time to listen to God. So I have this sabbatical planned. It will be a lot less talking and a lot more listening. And I hope you, too, get fed up with the same style and the same examples, the same mannerisms and embrace some new ones of a new leader for a little while. It’s ok to take a little break to listen to God and see what God might be saying differently through a different person.
If we’re fed up and accepting the call, God invites us to change the world, to see that the Kingdom of God is so close by and to make it close by for all who suffer because it seems remote when our systems oppress and hurt people. If we’re running the other way, God invites us to live in the moment and to witness what other people are going through.
Jonah was a big grump. But I don’t think the story really ends with him pouting by the fig tree because the people of Nineveh repented and God didn’t destroy them. Jonah spent three days walking through that city. I think his heart began to soften. He would think of the people of that city every singe day from then on. They became a part of him. He saw them and started to feel compassion. More than changing the Ninevites, God changed Jonah and changes us every time we are stubborn or pouting or running away by putting us in the midst of real people with real lives, Jesus Christ in the poor, the hungry, the weary, the grieving and so forth, until our heartstrings get pulled and we stop running from the one trying to give us life.
1st Reading: Johah 3:1-5, 10
2nd Reading: 1 Corinthians 7:29-31
It is amazing how many little kid books talk about running away. We’d like to skip out on reading books like that to our toddler, but it seems to be a topic that’s hard to avoid. One favorite book is by Mercer Mayer, called “I was so mad.” You may have read this book before. The kid wants to do any number of things he’s not supposed to such as keep frogs in the bathtub, tickle the goldfish, prune the rose bush, juggle with eggs, and so forth and no one will let him, and so he gets so mad. It has been a good book for us to read so that our son can name one of his strongest emotions and know he isn’t alone. The problem is this kid threatens to run away from home. I’d rather wait until it occurs to Sterling or his school friends tell him that there is such a thing as running away. It is something many kids consider in their young lives, but I don’t like to think put ideas in his head. Maybe it is funny when little kids threaten it or attempt it, but bigger kids can pull it off and I can’t imagine the anguish of their parents until those kids come home.
In the scriptures for today, God is calling various people. Some come quickly when called and others run the other way.
We all have callings. We all have vocations. Some of our callings are in our work. Martin Luther talked about God calling all people. I went looking for Luther’s famous quote about how the woman who sweeps does God’s work as much as the monk who prays, but I’m sorry to tell you that there is no evidence that he ever said this. Furthermore the quote is more about works righteousness than it is about calling. It seems to say that God likes people to work hard and it is the quality of the work that gives glory to God. Luther’s doctrine of vocation is more about God calling us to work and service on behalf of our neighbor. God likes grocery clerks because the neighbor needs food. God likes teachers, because the neighbor needs an education. You get the idea.
We all have vocations and callings in our families, too. Some are called as aunts or uncles, parents, children of aging parents, brothers, sisters, and so forth.
God is always calling us. God calls us from our old realities and traps and falsehoods, into new life. God is calling us to bring us from a long-distance relationship into accord with God’s Kingdom, a relationship of presence and nearness and hope.
Jonah was called to preach to the people of Nineveh. Like the little critter from Sterling’s book, he ran away. We know what happened next to Jonah. He was thrown overboard, swallowed by a whale, and given three days to think about his refusal. This morning’s story picks up there. The word of the LORD came to Jonah a second time. I doubt he was happy to hear from God again. I can just hear him declaring how mad he is. He’s mad at the people of Nineveh. He’s mad at God. He’s just plain grouchy. But he tried to run away and found himself in the belly of a big fish and spewed out on the shore. There would be no running away. He just hoped it was all a co-incidence. But no, now God is telling him again to go to Nineveh.
Nineveh was a Gentile nation. Why should they listen to Jonah or Yahweh? Nineveh was a very violent city. Certainly Jonah feared for his life. I doubt any of us would have accepted the assignment the first time around. We probably would have run away, too. And at times we have all run away from what we knew was right, what we knew was our calling. Sometimes we’ve been corrected, either by our nagging conscience, or by someone who could see the situation more clearly than we could. Sometimes we’ve corrected our course. Other times we’ve just continued running.
Contrast this with the disciples. They immediately dropped their nets and followed Jesus. What was so different about them? Did they know Jesus from before? Was his personality just so magnetic that they couldn’t help themselves? Or maybe they were fed up and dissatisfied with being fishermen, maybe they had no hopes for their future, that when they heard someone articulating the vision that did hold hope and a future, they were just ready to go. They were tired of God far away and ready for God coming near. They were ready to fish for people.
The Corinthians were a mixture of Jonah and the Disciples. Sometimes they are running to follow God and sometimes they were running the other way. Paul urges them to run toward God and not all the temptations of the world. For him there was an urgency to the running, God’s Kingdom is now, it is present, we had all better listen to God’s calling. Furthermore, the world was dangerous and threatening. Christians were being persecuted. They were misunderstanding the Gospel and leading each other into temptation. They were forgetting what Paul had taught them. They were forgetting their calling and vocation. So Paul reminds them. He urges them to live in the moment—not to be too concerned with the past or preparing for the future. In this threatening world, all you had was today. You didn’t know what tomorrow would bring and you couldn’t control that anyway. All we have is today. This reminds me of people who get a diagnosis of a life-threatening disease. Sometimes they have a sense of life that leads them to appreciate the moment. You can’t tell someone to live this way, in the moment. But sometimes we are given the gift of living in the moment. I remember feeling this way when Sterling was born. I’m hoping to recapture it a bit in my sabbatical. Sometimes we can live this way when we take a vacation or by practicing mindfulness techniques such as an alarm that reminds you to focus on the moment or daily devotions or even service projects and volunteering.
We are like the Disciples. We are usually somewhere on the continuum between running completely in the other direction when God calls us and running straight into God’s loving arms. And I think it depends on how comfortable we are verses how fed up we are, which direction we run because when we run to God we are eager and open for the new life God is offering. When we run the other way, it is often because we are benefitting from the status quo and we don’t want anything to change. We tend to live lives of privilege and comfort and because of that we often run the other direction. But we also know times of hardship and pain and we get fed up with this world and ready for the new life God offers.
In what ways are we fed up? In what ways are we ready for God’s reign?
Every time we have the pantry, I know I feel fed up. I get fed up with a world where people can’t find meaningful work, where the elderly and disabled fall through the cracks, where children are suffering because we don’t see food as a basic human right, and where nutrition is absent in the most affordable foods, and that it is so much about money and so little about giving life. It makes me feel that the work of the pantry is so important, plus the fact that it breaks down the barriers between the congregations that serve, it breaks down barriers between insiders and outsiders for our church, and I always learn something about myself and am challenged in my assumptions. As a result of the feeling of being fed up, many of us throw ourselves more into the work of the pantry. Others have been thinking more about advocacy or expanding our work in the areas of nutrition, maybe having some cooking and canning classes. In a couple of weeks four of us are traveling to Salem to talk to our legislators about the needs in our community and to hear what we can do that can help make the change this neighborhood needs. Any of you would be welcome to come to Ecumenical Advocacy Day. Talk to me if you want to know more.
I am not exactly fed up, but my body and my mind are dead tired as I try to plan for the 11th time Christmas, Lent, Easter—what will help people connect with God, what will wake them up, what will help them give and receive from this community, what can I say that I haven’t already said, how can I say what needs to be said in a way it can be heard? If I don’t take the time to listen to the Spirit, how can I expect to hear God in a new way and how can I expect you to take the time to listen to God. So I have this sabbatical planned. It will be a lot less talking and a lot more listening. And I hope you, too, get fed up with the same style and the same examples, the same mannerisms and embrace some new ones of a new leader for a little while. It’s ok to take a little break to listen to God and see what God might be saying differently through a different person.
If we’re fed up and accepting the call, God invites us to change the world, to see that the Kingdom of God is so close by and to make it close by for all who suffer because it seems remote when our systems oppress and hurt people. If we’re running the other way, God invites us to live in the moment and to witness what other people are going through.
Jonah was a big grump. But I don’t think the story really ends with him pouting by the fig tree because the people of Nineveh repented and God didn’t destroy them. Jonah spent three days walking through that city. I think his heart began to soften. He would think of the people of that city every singe day from then on. They became a part of him. He saw them and started to feel compassion. More than changing the Ninevites, God changed Jonah and changes us every time we are stubborn or pouting or running away by putting us in the midst of real people with real lives, Jesus Christ in the poor, the hungry, the weary, the grieving and so forth, until our heartstrings get pulled and we stop running from the one trying to give us life.
Tuesday, January 20, 2015
January 18, 2015 Gospel: John 1:43-51 1st Reading: 1 Samuel 3:1-20
2nd Reading: 1 Corinthians 6:12-20
“The word of the LORD was rare in those days; visions were not widespread.” This made me wonder about these days. Is the word of the LORD common or rare? Where and when do we hear it? How do we know it is God's word?
Are God's words and voice sometimes more prevalent and other times absent? The word for “rare” here is “precious” or “exceptional” but still gives the feeling of being infrequent. Maybe it has more to do with selective hearing, or our willingness or ability to listen. Yet certainly God's presence would have been everywhere and could be noted in nature and in blessings to give thanks for and in the different kinds of people you'd meet, if you were open to seeing it. It seems that dreams and visions can be interpreted in light of God's action, or those actions can be ignored and we can choose to find other meaning in them.
So if the word of God is always present and it depends on us listening, when are we better listeners? I think it is likely when we are in desperate need or when we understand that there is something in it for us if we do listen. For each of us then, the word of God is rare when we think we've got it covered, when we put our trust in our selves, when we are comfortable and confident, and when we are distracted by the temptations of this world, the idolatry in which we put our trust in ourselves or our money or our power. But we quickly tune our stations back into God's word when we're in trouble, when we remember who and what is most important, and when we realize we can't do it all ourselves.
The word of the LORD was rare with Eli. He and his sons were comfortable. In fact his sons had been insulting God with their words and probably their actions. But God doesn't give up on them. God finds someone who can listen, young Samuel, to tell the message that Eli and his sons couldn't otherwise hear. Then Samuel spends his life listening to God and being a trustworthy prophet of the LORD, telling others what they otherwise couldn't hear and bearing witness to God's saving power through his words and actions.
The Corinthians have received the Good News of Jesus Christ through Paul himself, but they have gone back to listening only to their own desires and not what is best for the community. The have selective hearing, taking to heart the part about grace, but forgetting they are to have a changed life. They have found freedom in God's grace and forgiveness, but they are abusing that grace, by sinning all the more. In particular some of them are visiting prostitutes and then coming to the community to brag about it.
We might chuckle to ourselves a little bit with this second reading. They were sure hung up on fornication. What does that have to do with us? I'm second generation after the sexual revolution. Our parents couldn't advise us to wait until marriage because they didn't. These days it is important to many couples to know they are sexually compatible before they commit themselves to one another for life.
But the word translated here as fornication means something more like debauchery. It doesn't just refer to the sin of an individual or a couple. It is also about being unfaithful to God, not listening to God. We've been learning in our Wednesday Bible Study that the Apostle Paul, who wrote these letters to the Corinthians was quite concerned about the body and what we do with our bodies. Some folks had the idea that it wasn't really Jesus' body on the cross—that he was somehow absent at the crucifixion. But Paul wanted to stress that the body is important or God wouldn't have ever come in the flesh. He wanted to stress that Jesus really did suffer, otherwise how could we identify with him in our sufferings. Paul wanted to stress that what we do with our bodies does matter, because God is present with us both in this life and the next and with our bodies and our five senses we can connect to God, or we can reject God and feed our own desires and pleasures and damage our bodies.
In addition, the body refers to the community, the body of Christ. So it isn't just what we do with our individual bodies that can harm or help us, but it what we do with the body of Christ, our community that can harm or help us and our neighbors. For instance in the Corinthian Christian community, their gatherings were usually a meal. Those who were more wealthy got off work earlier and would come to the meal and eat all the food and drink all the wine. And those working swing shift, who were more in need, would come and all the food would be gone. Imagine if at communion, the wealthy were invited up first and they took all the bread and wine and when the poorest came to the table, there was nothing left. The idea is that some were being selfish and damaging the whole community as well as their own health and well-being.
When we are part of a community we must listen. We listen to ourselves and our own needs. We listen to each other and get feedback and support and education. We listen to God. Often God speaks through other people, especially marginalized people we don't usually want to listen to. God can speak through visions and dreams, when we are quiet and pay attention to God's Spirit speaking within us. It takes a lot of listening.
Sometimes it is hard to listen when we think we know all the answers. That's one life skill we will probably all be working on our whole lives long. How do we listen without just sticking to our own agenda? How can we listen with openness to other points of view and those on other paths? How can we listen without at the same time forming our response for rebuttal?
Christians have been known to be pushy, as some have felt that there is one path to God. We don't know how to do evangelism in a way that doesn't alienate people or disrespect the spiritual path they are on. So we have abandoned evangelism. In fact we don't even want to talk about our faith at all so we won't get mixed up with more fundamentalist, pushy Christians. But I think listening is the key. We can be listeners in our families and neighborhoods and groups of friends and be doing what God is teaching us to do—just be open and in that way minister to one another and allow ourselves to be affected and changed by what we see and hear.
Let me give a couple of examples. A few years ago a friend of mine just dropped out of my life altogether. It was kind of weird. I saw on facebook she had gotten a horse. I think I was a little jealous of this horse. I didn't like her path at all. But I opened myself up and listened and I figured out that with this horse, she was having a religious experience. She was experiencing something transcendent and beautiful and it had changed her. She was like a new convert to a religion, completely swept up in it and I couldn't resent that anymore. I had to respect her path.
Here's another example. The year I was confirmed, one of the young men in my Confirmation class decided not to be confirmed. I remember Ryan had his appendix burst on the ball field and my pastor took the whole class (of 6 others) to the hospital to visit him. It was a couple of weeks before Confirmation day and he told us that he wasn't going to be confirmed. My pastor wasn't pushy. He accepted it, he listened, he respected Ryan's path. And I've heard recently that Ryan's wife has brought his children to church because they suddenly are interested and want to be involved.
We respected his path, because none of us could judge him or take the place of God who in Jesus this morning simply says, “Follow me” and “Come and see.” It was a simple invitation to move forward, not knowing the particular path. We also respected Ryan's path because he wasn't just going through with what was expected of him, but he thought about it deeply enough to know if his heart wasn't in it that he shouldn't do it.
Follow me—it isn't like Jesus had a particular straight and easy spiritual path to follow. He was going all sorts of unexpected places. Folks had an idea of the kind of Messiah the would receive from God, and Jesus was not it. He wasn't rich. He wasn't powerful. He had all kinds of friends his parents and pastor wouldn't approve of. He didn't spend all his days in the temple or synagogue. He was out there among the people, sleeping in the dirt, and eating whatever was shared. He was arrested and executed, too. Our Messiah was a felon on death row. His path was unexpected. When we follow Jesus, we listen and we go unexpected places to unexpected people. There is no right path, but only following and not with GPS, but one foot after the other, one day at a time, not knowing what each day will bring, only that we have God's presence with us.
Come and see—it is an invitation. Come and listen. We open ourselves to discovery, to have the path and picture in our mind of what our spiritual path will be or someone else's, and then come and experience, take a look, find out if we will find something worth pursuing. And that's what we get to do for others, not dictate their path, but to live lives that are inviting to others, that are open to curiosity, that cause someone to ask about our path because they might be looking for a path too, or not sure what a path looks like, or who might be on a similar journey. May God teach us to listen, as Samuel did, and when we can't seem to listen, give us people to help open our ears. And as we listen, may we hear and extend the invitation to come and see, going where our Savior leads us, into new life.
2nd Reading: 1 Corinthians 6:12-20
“The word of the LORD was rare in those days; visions were not widespread.” This made me wonder about these days. Is the word of the LORD common or rare? Where and when do we hear it? How do we know it is God's word?
Are God's words and voice sometimes more prevalent and other times absent? The word for “rare” here is “precious” or “exceptional” but still gives the feeling of being infrequent. Maybe it has more to do with selective hearing, or our willingness or ability to listen. Yet certainly God's presence would have been everywhere and could be noted in nature and in blessings to give thanks for and in the different kinds of people you'd meet, if you were open to seeing it. It seems that dreams and visions can be interpreted in light of God's action, or those actions can be ignored and we can choose to find other meaning in them.
So if the word of God is always present and it depends on us listening, when are we better listeners? I think it is likely when we are in desperate need or when we understand that there is something in it for us if we do listen. For each of us then, the word of God is rare when we think we've got it covered, when we put our trust in our selves, when we are comfortable and confident, and when we are distracted by the temptations of this world, the idolatry in which we put our trust in ourselves or our money or our power. But we quickly tune our stations back into God's word when we're in trouble, when we remember who and what is most important, and when we realize we can't do it all ourselves.
The word of the LORD was rare with Eli. He and his sons were comfortable. In fact his sons had been insulting God with their words and probably their actions. But God doesn't give up on them. God finds someone who can listen, young Samuel, to tell the message that Eli and his sons couldn't otherwise hear. Then Samuel spends his life listening to God and being a trustworthy prophet of the LORD, telling others what they otherwise couldn't hear and bearing witness to God's saving power through his words and actions.
The Corinthians have received the Good News of Jesus Christ through Paul himself, but they have gone back to listening only to their own desires and not what is best for the community. The have selective hearing, taking to heart the part about grace, but forgetting they are to have a changed life. They have found freedom in God's grace and forgiveness, but they are abusing that grace, by sinning all the more. In particular some of them are visiting prostitutes and then coming to the community to brag about it.
We might chuckle to ourselves a little bit with this second reading. They were sure hung up on fornication. What does that have to do with us? I'm second generation after the sexual revolution. Our parents couldn't advise us to wait until marriage because they didn't. These days it is important to many couples to know they are sexually compatible before they commit themselves to one another for life.
But the word translated here as fornication means something more like debauchery. It doesn't just refer to the sin of an individual or a couple. It is also about being unfaithful to God, not listening to God. We've been learning in our Wednesday Bible Study that the Apostle Paul, who wrote these letters to the Corinthians was quite concerned about the body and what we do with our bodies. Some folks had the idea that it wasn't really Jesus' body on the cross—that he was somehow absent at the crucifixion. But Paul wanted to stress that the body is important or God wouldn't have ever come in the flesh. He wanted to stress that Jesus really did suffer, otherwise how could we identify with him in our sufferings. Paul wanted to stress that what we do with our bodies does matter, because God is present with us both in this life and the next and with our bodies and our five senses we can connect to God, or we can reject God and feed our own desires and pleasures and damage our bodies.
In addition, the body refers to the community, the body of Christ. So it isn't just what we do with our individual bodies that can harm or help us, but it what we do with the body of Christ, our community that can harm or help us and our neighbors. For instance in the Corinthian Christian community, their gatherings were usually a meal. Those who were more wealthy got off work earlier and would come to the meal and eat all the food and drink all the wine. And those working swing shift, who were more in need, would come and all the food would be gone. Imagine if at communion, the wealthy were invited up first and they took all the bread and wine and when the poorest came to the table, there was nothing left. The idea is that some were being selfish and damaging the whole community as well as their own health and well-being.
When we are part of a community we must listen. We listen to ourselves and our own needs. We listen to each other and get feedback and support and education. We listen to God. Often God speaks through other people, especially marginalized people we don't usually want to listen to. God can speak through visions and dreams, when we are quiet and pay attention to God's Spirit speaking within us. It takes a lot of listening.
Sometimes it is hard to listen when we think we know all the answers. That's one life skill we will probably all be working on our whole lives long. How do we listen without just sticking to our own agenda? How can we listen with openness to other points of view and those on other paths? How can we listen without at the same time forming our response for rebuttal?
Christians have been known to be pushy, as some have felt that there is one path to God. We don't know how to do evangelism in a way that doesn't alienate people or disrespect the spiritual path they are on. So we have abandoned evangelism. In fact we don't even want to talk about our faith at all so we won't get mixed up with more fundamentalist, pushy Christians. But I think listening is the key. We can be listeners in our families and neighborhoods and groups of friends and be doing what God is teaching us to do—just be open and in that way minister to one another and allow ourselves to be affected and changed by what we see and hear.
Let me give a couple of examples. A few years ago a friend of mine just dropped out of my life altogether. It was kind of weird. I saw on facebook she had gotten a horse. I think I was a little jealous of this horse. I didn't like her path at all. But I opened myself up and listened and I figured out that with this horse, she was having a religious experience. She was experiencing something transcendent and beautiful and it had changed her. She was like a new convert to a religion, completely swept up in it and I couldn't resent that anymore. I had to respect her path.
Here's another example. The year I was confirmed, one of the young men in my Confirmation class decided not to be confirmed. I remember Ryan had his appendix burst on the ball field and my pastor took the whole class (of 6 others) to the hospital to visit him. It was a couple of weeks before Confirmation day and he told us that he wasn't going to be confirmed. My pastor wasn't pushy. He accepted it, he listened, he respected Ryan's path. And I've heard recently that Ryan's wife has brought his children to church because they suddenly are interested and want to be involved.
We respected his path, because none of us could judge him or take the place of God who in Jesus this morning simply says, “Follow me” and “Come and see.” It was a simple invitation to move forward, not knowing the particular path. We also respected Ryan's path because he wasn't just going through with what was expected of him, but he thought about it deeply enough to know if his heart wasn't in it that he shouldn't do it.
Follow me—it isn't like Jesus had a particular straight and easy spiritual path to follow. He was going all sorts of unexpected places. Folks had an idea of the kind of Messiah the would receive from God, and Jesus was not it. He wasn't rich. He wasn't powerful. He had all kinds of friends his parents and pastor wouldn't approve of. He didn't spend all his days in the temple or synagogue. He was out there among the people, sleeping in the dirt, and eating whatever was shared. He was arrested and executed, too. Our Messiah was a felon on death row. His path was unexpected. When we follow Jesus, we listen and we go unexpected places to unexpected people. There is no right path, but only following and not with GPS, but one foot after the other, one day at a time, not knowing what each day will bring, only that we have God's presence with us.
Come and see—it is an invitation. Come and listen. We open ourselves to discovery, to have the path and picture in our mind of what our spiritual path will be or someone else's, and then come and experience, take a look, find out if we will find something worth pursuing. And that's what we get to do for others, not dictate their path, but to live lives that are inviting to others, that are open to curiosity, that cause someone to ask about our path because they might be looking for a path too, or not sure what a path looks like, or who might be on a similar journey. May God teach us to listen, as Samuel did, and when we can't seem to listen, give us people to help open our ears. And as we listen, may we hear and extend the invitation to come and see, going where our Savior leads us, into new life.
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
January 11, 2015
Gospel: Mark 1:4-11
1st Reading: Genesis 1:1-5
2nd Reading: Acts 19:1-7
“In the beginning...” Where to begin? A given story has any number of places you can begin. You can tell a story a thousand times and never begin it the same way. What is the beginning of your story? Do you start with the day you were born, or with your parents meeting, or on some day that everything changed for you and you started becoming the person you eventually became?
Any of us could start our story with this reading from Genesis. In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. At that moment of the big bang, all the elements were formed that would eventually come together to make us, our bodies and our world. Our story is the story of the formation of the stars and universe. We are made of stardust. Of course if you start there, you are going to have a very thick book.
Some of us might start with the day of our birth. What kind of a day was it? What happened that day? Who were the key players? What were those first moments, that first day of life like?
And some of us might start with our baptism day. It is a day of beginnings. God has always been with us, even before we were ourselves, even at the creation of all the elements and particles that would become us. God has been with our families before us and forming us in the womb, and there in the miracle of our birth and in our life. But we so easily forget. We have a million distractions. We have a lot of learning to do. We have people to keep up with. We have all of the temptations of life. We have trouble to get into, mistakes to make, in all our learning and growing. So we need a day in which we are named by God, in which we touch the water or the water touches us, in which the community surrounds us and reminds us that we are not alone, that we belong, that there are people there support us and care for us and are responsible for our upbringing and agree to be examples to us and help answer our questions and say hello and look out for us. We need a day to remember God's promises to always love us, to provide for us and adopt us. We need a day to hear the words from God, “You are my beloved Child! With you I am well pleased.” We need a day to mark the beginning of new life in Christ.
This is a day that offers us strength, forgiveness, and a reminder of who we are. It is a day to remember a new beginning and all the new beginnings God offers us.
Children baptized in this church receive a banner. It hangs here for a year to remind the newly baptized that they are a part of this church, this community. It hangs there to name the child and to remind all of us of our responsibilities and to ensure that they child knows how important they are. The butterfly signifies the new life that is developing and growing, like a chrysalis becoming a butterfly. Then after a year these banners go home with the child. It is a visual reminder at home of this special day. It is a reminder there of the community to which the child belongs. It is a reminder of that date, so it can be celebrated and marked each year. Recent reports from some children of the congregation tell us that some of these banners are hanging on bedroom walls well into their teens and some as young adults, reminding them of who they are and the love God has for them.
Some of us can remember our baptism day. Others of us were infants. We may or may not have people to tell us what happened that day. Whether we can remember our baptism or not, we are encouraged to “remember our baptism” every day and especially on Sunday. Every day is a new day, a beginning of sorts. God's forgiveness and the chance to start again, to try again to live in a life-giving way for ourselves and others, comes daily, hourly, every minute, every second. We are invited as we start each day to give thanks for the new life the comes with a new day. Some may focus on showering or washing one's face as a good time to remember their baptism, or maybe when walking out of the house in the Oregon rain. Some people do morning devotions to help remind them, or keep a prayer near their bedside so that God's promises are the first thing they see when they wake up. Some may remember their baptism as they pass a church on their way to work or school. Some remember their baptism in prayers at mealtimes. Some may remember it primarily on Sunday, when walking into the church and seeing the font. Sunday is the first day of the week, a good day for new beginnings. Some may even dip a finger into the water and retrace the cross on their forehead that the pastor traced with oil on the day of their baptism when these words were spoken, “You are sealed by the power of the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever.” And some may mark their baptismal anniversary by lighting their baptismal candle and discuss that day and what it meant with family.
The question about beginnings is this, “The beginning of what?” “Where is this going?” The answer is that we don't entirely know. We believe it is the beginning of something good, that recognition of a relationship with God. But we let go of outcomes. We don't know if the newly baptized will ever fully realize the gifts God has given them. I mean, who of us really does? Or maybe that person totally gets it from the beginning and new life is apparent from then on. Some drop away from faith for a while. Some seem to never return, although we can't know what all the Holy Spirit might be doing. It might not look like faith in the way we'd expect it to show itself. We let go of knowing the particular journey of faith that will follow. We trust that God is with this person and we are with this person, through our commitments that we make today. And we trust that God will draw this person home with God in eternal life on the last day.
We let go of outcomes. We pray God's presence and we let go. There have been a couple of bishops in the news lately, one recently and another a year or so ago, each involved in a hit and run. I think of the trajectory of their lives, baptized, lives of faith, entering the ministry, becoming a bishop, their lives seeming so holy and blessed, then this mistake in the blink of an eye, bad decisions to flee the scene, the guilt and pain of taking a life, facing prison, yet baptized and beloved in the eyes of God. We are all a mixture of joy and sorrow, good and bad choices, and the accidents of life both positive and negative. Through it all we know God is present and loving, calling us by name, never leaving us, guiding us and teaching us, forgiving us and helping us to forgive others and ourselves.
The writer of the Gospel of Mark saw Jesus' baptism as the beginning of the good news. Some of the other Gospel writers started with his birth, but Mark goes to beginning of Jesus' ministry, to his baptism when he is named by God and is beginning to reveal himself and all that his ministry is about. We needed a little background on who is baptizing him, John. And Mark tells us very quickly that Jesus didn't just come out of nowhere. We've been expecting him. The prophets have been anticipating this for a long time and John is here pointing to Jesus and preparing the way for him to live among us. The part about the heavens torn apart, refers to the barrier between heaven and earth being destroyed, so that now we have full access to God, nothing comes between us anymore. That's the beginning of the good news. No barriers. No walls or drapes between us.
For those of us who know Damon, who will be baptized this morning, we might see the beginning of his story as starting with John and Cathy, or maybe Tova and Didrik's wedding day, or we may think of the day of his birth. I think of the first time they boys came to Bible School, clinging to their mother. How did they get from there to this point in which this congregation is theirs, too, in which Damon notices this font, asks about the water, is interested enough that he keeps coming back to it and wondering what it has to do with new beginnings for him? Who knows where his life might take him or what new beginnings he might encounter, but as I imagine, I jump 60 years and place him where John is today, the grandfather he's named after. Maybe he, too, will have the joy of journeying in faith with a grandchild of his own, the two of them with the same twist of an eyebrow thinking over the questions that life throws at us, and not knowing all the answers but pondering with the assurance that we are God's beloved children, that God has always been a part of who we are and always will be, and that new beginnings are not only possible, but happening all around us. We may call it new life, forgiveness, one day at a time, love, being in the moment.
And we also thank Damon and his family for this new beginning for our congregation because it was the feedback from the boys that led us start a children's activity during the sermon which was the beginning of this influx of children. We let go of any outcomes of what this is going to mean, but are thankful each day for all new beginnings and try to learn and grow from their presence among us as God remakes us daily into God's precious children.
1st Reading: Genesis 1:1-5
2nd Reading: Acts 19:1-7
“In the beginning...” Where to begin? A given story has any number of places you can begin. You can tell a story a thousand times and never begin it the same way. What is the beginning of your story? Do you start with the day you were born, or with your parents meeting, or on some day that everything changed for you and you started becoming the person you eventually became?
Any of us could start our story with this reading from Genesis. In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. At that moment of the big bang, all the elements were formed that would eventually come together to make us, our bodies and our world. Our story is the story of the formation of the stars and universe. We are made of stardust. Of course if you start there, you are going to have a very thick book.
Some of us might start with the day of our birth. What kind of a day was it? What happened that day? Who were the key players? What were those first moments, that first day of life like?
And some of us might start with our baptism day. It is a day of beginnings. God has always been with us, even before we were ourselves, even at the creation of all the elements and particles that would become us. God has been with our families before us and forming us in the womb, and there in the miracle of our birth and in our life. But we so easily forget. We have a million distractions. We have a lot of learning to do. We have people to keep up with. We have all of the temptations of life. We have trouble to get into, mistakes to make, in all our learning and growing. So we need a day in which we are named by God, in which we touch the water or the water touches us, in which the community surrounds us and reminds us that we are not alone, that we belong, that there are people there support us and care for us and are responsible for our upbringing and agree to be examples to us and help answer our questions and say hello and look out for us. We need a day to remember God's promises to always love us, to provide for us and adopt us. We need a day to hear the words from God, “You are my beloved Child! With you I am well pleased.” We need a day to mark the beginning of new life in Christ.
This is a day that offers us strength, forgiveness, and a reminder of who we are. It is a day to remember a new beginning and all the new beginnings God offers us.
Children baptized in this church receive a banner. It hangs here for a year to remind the newly baptized that they are a part of this church, this community. It hangs there to name the child and to remind all of us of our responsibilities and to ensure that they child knows how important they are. The butterfly signifies the new life that is developing and growing, like a chrysalis becoming a butterfly. Then after a year these banners go home with the child. It is a visual reminder at home of this special day. It is a reminder there of the community to which the child belongs. It is a reminder of that date, so it can be celebrated and marked each year. Recent reports from some children of the congregation tell us that some of these banners are hanging on bedroom walls well into their teens and some as young adults, reminding them of who they are and the love God has for them.
Some of us can remember our baptism day. Others of us were infants. We may or may not have people to tell us what happened that day. Whether we can remember our baptism or not, we are encouraged to “remember our baptism” every day and especially on Sunday. Every day is a new day, a beginning of sorts. God's forgiveness and the chance to start again, to try again to live in a life-giving way for ourselves and others, comes daily, hourly, every minute, every second. We are invited as we start each day to give thanks for the new life the comes with a new day. Some may focus on showering or washing one's face as a good time to remember their baptism, or maybe when walking out of the house in the Oregon rain. Some people do morning devotions to help remind them, or keep a prayer near their bedside so that God's promises are the first thing they see when they wake up. Some may remember their baptism as they pass a church on their way to work or school. Some remember their baptism in prayers at mealtimes. Some may remember it primarily on Sunday, when walking into the church and seeing the font. Sunday is the first day of the week, a good day for new beginnings. Some may even dip a finger into the water and retrace the cross on their forehead that the pastor traced with oil on the day of their baptism when these words were spoken, “You are sealed by the power of the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever.” And some may mark their baptismal anniversary by lighting their baptismal candle and discuss that day and what it meant with family.
The question about beginnings is this, “The beginning of what?” “Where is this going?” The answer is that we don't entirely know. We believe it is the beginning of something good, that recognition of a relationship with God. But we let go of outcomes. We don't know if the newly baptized will ever fully realize the gifts God has given them. I mean, who of us really does? Or maybe that person totally gets it from the beginning and new life is apparent from then on. Some drop away from faith for a while. Some seem to never return, although we can't know what all the Holy Spirit might be doing. It might not look like faith in the way we'd expect it to show itself. We let go of knowing the particular journey of faith that will follow. We trust that God is with this person and we are with this person, through our commitments that we make today. And we trust that God will draw this person home with God in eternal life on the last day.
We let go of outcomes. We pray God's presence and we let go. There have been a couple of bishops in the news lately, one recently and another a year or so ago, each involved in a hit and run. I think of the trajectory of their lives, baptized, lives of faith, entering the ministry, becoming a bishop, their lives seeming so holy and blessed, then this mistake in the blink of an eye, bad decisions to flee the scene, the guilt and pain of taking a life, facing prison, yet baptized and beloved in the eyes of God. We are all a mixture of joy and sorrow, good and bad choices, and the accidents of life both positive and negative. Through it all we know God is present and loving, calling us by name, never leaving us, guiding us and teaching us, forgiving us and helping us to forgive others and ourselves.
The writer of the Gospel of Mark saw Jesus' baptism as the beginning of the good news. Some of the other Gospel writers started with his birth, but Mark goes to beginning of Jesus' ministry, to his baptism when he is named by God and is beginning to reveal himself and all that his ministry is about. We needed a little background on who is baptizing him, John. And Mark tells us very quickly that Jesus didn't just come out of nowhere. We've been expecting him. The prophets have been anticipating this for a long time and John is here pointing to Jesus and preparing the way for him to live among us. The part about the heavens torn apart, refers to the barrier between heaven and earth being destroyed, so that now we have full access to God, nothing comes between us anymore. That's the beginning of the good news. No barriers. No walls or drapes between us.
For those of us who know Damon, who will be baptized this morning, we might see the beginning of his story as starting with John and Cathy, or maybe Tova and Didrik's wedding day, or we may think of the day of his birth. I think of the first time they boys came to Bible School, clinging to their mother. How did they get from there to this point in which this congregation is theirs, too, in which Damon notices this font, asks about the water, is interested enough that he keeps coming back to it and wondering what it has to do with new beginnings for him? Who knows where his life might take him or what new beginnings he might encounter, but as I imagine, I jump 60 years and place him where John is today, the grandfather he's named after. Maybe he, too, will have the joy of journeying in faith with a grandchild of his own, the two of them with the same twist of an eyebrow thinking over the questions that life throws at us, and not knowing all the answers but pondering with the assurance that we are God's beloved children, that God has always been a part of who we are and always will be, and that new beginnings are not only possible, but happening all around us. We may call it new life, forgiveness, one day at a time, love, being in the moment.
And we also thank Damon and his family for this new beginning for our congregation because it was the feedback from the boys that led us start a children's activity during the sermon which was the beginning of this influx of children. We let go of any outcomes of what this is going to mean, but are thankful each day for all new beginnings and try to learn and grow from their presence among us as God remakes us daily into God's precious children.
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