Saturday, July 11, 2015

Shut Up and Dance

Over the July 4 weekend the Grateful Dead played what was billed as the "Fare Thee Well" Shows. As a way of celebrating fifty years of their music, the Core Four came together one last time to thank the fans for half a century of dancing, singing, and shaking the bones.

For those who could not attend the shows in Santa Clara, California the last weekend of June, or Soldiers Field over the July 4 weekend, YouTube offered pay-per-view streaming, as did MLB.com.  Sirius XM streamed the shows' audio feeds and Twitter was blowing up with multiple hashtags so that techno-savvy Deadheads could get play by play, song by song updates and share in the moment even if they couldn't be there in person.

It had been twenty years since Deadheads have been together in this way and it was truly a moment to be remembered.

But even with so much to celebrate, I was surprised by the negativity and judgment.  I guess even Deadheads can be trolls, sadly enough.

"Why is PHIL singing vocals on this song?"

"Why isn't TREY singing vocals on this?"

"Why is the mix off? I can't hear Bruce (or Bobby) (or Trey) (or Jeff)."

"Why didn't they play [insert favorite song title here]." (This one blew me away because after 30 years of playing together (1965-1995), the band had amassed a catalogue of 317 cover songs and 184 original tunes!) Like they could possibly hit everyone's favorite song...

What I really enjoyed, though, were the replies that said something along the lines of "How about you just live in the music and dance?!" I also noticed that the positive tweets got retweeted and favorited, while the negative stuff just kind of disappeared into the Twitterverse.

I encountered a text this week for preaching that I've come across before (the lectionary is good for that, right?) but following the Fare Thee Well shows I listened to it a little differently this time around.

In 2 Samuel 6 David is bringing the Ark of the Covenant home from its captivity with the Philistines. The Ark, the sign of G-d's presence with the people; the thing that helped the people of G-d remember they are the people of G-d. It held the tablets with the Ten Words and, according to the letter to the Hebrews, it also held Aaron's rod and a jar of manna.  After being gone for so long (at least seven months) David was happy to have the sign of the covenant there. So happy in fact that as the procession of 30,000 people moved along with lyres and tambourines and cymbals, that he breaks into dance.

Maybe not quite what David looked like, but you get the point.

I imagine in the movie in my head that David is dancing in his linen ephod and only mindful of his joy before G-d so when he accidentally offers up..."The Full Monty"...he offends at least one person.

As the saying goes, "Haters gonna hate." And maybe something like, "If you don't offend at least one person you aren't doing it right."

But the person he offends is the daughter of the former King, Saul.  Saul, you may remember was let go from being King because he didn't observe the command given by Samuel, and made a wrong offering before G-d.  He had good intentions, I really think that Saul had good intentions, but he wan't following the Law. So he's let go, so to speak, and David is anointed King. (It's not quite as complicated as Game of Thrones, but close.)

And this new King is marching into town, dancing, spinning, shaking those bones with all manner of lost dignity and rather than catch his joy, Michal gets caught up in judgment. "Saul would never act that way...I can't believe we have just a fool for a king...doesn't he know what he looks like? Doesn't he know we can see EVERYTHING? How embarrassing for him! How embarrassing for us all!"

I can't help but feel a little sad for Michal, and not just because she's missing out on the joy.  I feel bad for her because she's feeling all the guilt and shame for being "the former King's daughter."  We excel at shaming the families of people who are guilty of something. Somehow we feel like it's not just the fault of the person but that the guilt is shared by the family too.  I've seen family members shamed by others because they are "guilty by association" some how.  It was painful to witness.  So I feel for Michal because I'm sure she felt that same guilt by association shame.

And as is wont to happen, people in pain lash out at others.

Once the celebrations are done, and David has made and shared the offerings, Michal catches him and tells him exactly what's on her mind. "How the King of Israel honored himself today..." Sarcasm drips from her words as she tries to help David understand how a King is supposed to act.  Kings are supposed to act like her Father, Saul, did.

David replies with a bit that Matt Redmon turned into a song that the Crowder Band made hugely famous, "I will be even more undignified than this."

And then the text ends with a really crummy bit, "And Michal the daughter of Saul had not child to the day of her death."

I'll be honest, I wanted to leave this line out.  The assigned pericope didn't even go as far as the Undignified comment, so who will notice if I leave out that sad little bit out Michal not having any babies?

But I have a friend who likes to say, "Everything is in Torah for a reason, even the stuff we wrestle with or don't like."

So I had to find out...


I had to find out because I didn't like it.



Here's what I've come up with this time around.  Maybe what we can get from the text is that judgment isn't meant to bear fruit.

David's joy had 30,000 people in procession (and yeah, maybe it helped a little that he was the King) but at the end of the day, Michal's judgment left her fruitless.

I'm always hesitant to say that texts warn us because then we're prone to look at reasons to be afraid; but I think the text warns us that judgment isn't fruitful. Not that if we're judgmental we won't have babies, but that it's judgment isn't supposed to be contagious.

It's easy to see how difficult that might be when so much of what we see is finger pointing and judgment.  The left says the right is wrong and the right says the left is wrong and Bill O' Reilly says Jon Stewart's wrong and vice versa. And the evangelicals are labeling the progressives and the progressives are labeling the evangelicals and even the middle/centrists are jumping onto the bandwagon and saying what's wrong with both ends.

Or maybe we're wondering why church can't be traditional or why it can't be contemporary and hip.  Or why we have to celebrate the Eucharist AGAIN (or wondering why the pastor/priest did the fraction there??? when it so obviously goes AFTER the great thanksgiving not DURING.)

And so we're back to the mix being wrong.

And we're back to wondering why Phil's singing and not Trey or Bruce.

And we're back to wondering why, out of the 500+ songs in the catalogue, the band isn't playing OUR favorite song.

When maybe what we really being invited to do is just live in the music and shut up and dance.

Saturday, July 4, 2015

The Grateful Dead and Fare Thee Well

When I first saw/heard the news I was instantly sad that I wouldn't be able to go to Chicago and get in  even one final show.

Then I started reading the comments...you know, like you aren't supposed to...I began reading the comments.

Trey playing Jerry's parts? Say it ain't so!

Okay...back story time.

Jerry Garcia passed away in 1995 and the Grateful Dead haven't played as a cohesive unit, all of them together, for more than a handful of times in twenty years.

2015 is the 50th anniversary of the founding of the Grateful Dead. What a great time to put on three final shows at Soldier Field in Chicago, IL over the July 4th weekend.  

Why Chicago?  Chicago is close to the center of the country, making it somewhat accessible to the majority of fans.  Additionally, Chicago is the location of the final show the Dead played prior to Jerry checking into rehab and his death.

There were a few choices to choose from in terms of guitarists and vocalists, but the band went with Trey Anastasio (of Phish Phame) and at that point the haters started hating.

I admit it; I tried getting into Phish back in the day, and never really acquired the taste. But I wasn't familiar enough with Trey's playing--even though he's played a few times in one or maybe two iterations of the Post-Grateful Dead Grateful Dead--to make any kind of a judgment about whether or not he was good enough.  Mostly I was concerned with hearing the band perform live post-Jerry Garcia, and feeling sad and not being able to appreciate the music regardless of who got to play in Jerry's place.

So, for once, I was glad to be living in Okinawa and unable to even entertain the idea of seeing these shows. Then I saw the live-streaming Pay Per View option and, since I was actually going to be home for a few days, purchased the three night stand of the Fare Thee Well shows in Chicago.

Yesterday--July 3rd--the band played their first of three shows and they played well.  They played more than well.  It was amazing.  Today they played a monster second show and it was even more amazing. 

Another bit of back story: In 1994 and 1995 I dropped out of work a few times to chase down the Grateful Dead at Shoreline Amphitheater, LA Sports Arena, and in Las Vegas.  Then Jerry died in August 1995, and as far as I could tell, so did the music.

But I learned--in those few shows--about family that happens where you least expect it, and I learned about a communal vibe of happiness and joy. And I feared that with the death of the music so would be the death of that community.  And for about 20 or so years, for me, it was. 

Except when people would nod and smile at my Steal Your Face ball cap; and the nods and smiles from the Okinawan couple that owns my favorite bagel place just down on the sea wall who always say how much they like my shirts when I walk in wearing a tie dye or a Grateful Dead Tee.  I knew the family was there, but the shared joy was missing.

There have still been recordings and CD's and podcasts, but all the listening has been without community. And my biggest fear of watching shows as Pay Per View live streams was of watching the shows from afar and missing my "Grateful Family." 

Enter the hashtags...and no, not that kind of hash...

#dead50
#FareTheeWell
and #couchtour (for those of us watching and dancing from home)

these helped me find my family again as we called songs out of improvs and shared the joy of the music.

Even if there were times when it was like reading the comments after an article, I loved reconnecting with the community of Deadheads.  I didn't know I missed them so much.

I missed the acceptance of strangers--all because we were seeking joy in music.
I missed the communion of the song--when the band and the crowd is in sync and you look at what someone close to you is saying or feeling and you know that you're in the same place that isn't really a place at all.
I miss strangers stopping strangers just to shake their hand...

So back to what I meant to say at the beginning.  I'm happy that I jumped in and opened my ears and my heart and my soul to the music again (even if I wasn't sure if I could do it in a post-Jerry world) because the music is beautiful, even if "we" (the collective we of the band and the audience) are getting old and missing words.  It's beautiful.

The band pulled out one of my absolute favorite songs tonight, "Standing on the Moon." A song with Jerry's vocals, sometimes tender sometimes tired, and Jerry's lead guitar, with scorching solos. And as I lost myself in the song, I fell in love with it all over again for the very first time.

I hope we can all get back to a place where we can share in the joy of the music, even if we don't know what to expect. I hope we can all get back to a place where we see some kind of shared experience in the smile of a stranger.

Maybe there's a metaphor in here for something bigger, I don't know.  I'm just happy to have experienced that extended family of Deadheads again.  I've missed you. 

More than anything, I'm happy to have the music again.



Monday, February 23, 2015

Photo-a-Day Number Six: Covenant

What is a covenant? A covenant is a promise between more than one person, or a person and God, or more than one person and God.

At the core of covenant for me is my family.  I wish I could have gotten a photo with my now grown son, too.

We're a bit of a mess, but we're true to one another; we do our best to love each other without condition and we're hopeless wanderers.  

So when I see the day's word of covenant, I think of Abram and Sarai who are told, "Go to the land I will show you...I will will bless you...and you will be a blessing."

I try to keep it simple when it comes to knowing my purpose, so I just try to be a blessing.

#RethinkChurch #UMC #Lent #Covenant

Saturday, February 21, 2015

Photo-a-Day Number 5: Celebrate

Maybe I'm a cheater, but as soon as I saw "Celebrate" as the word for Day 5 I knew it was going to be a picture of the bread and wine.

At my home church in Eureka, we ended every gathering with Communion. After we had been to the table we formed a circle around the sanctuary, holding hands and sang together.  Most of the time children would dance while we held hands singing.  It was a wonderful celebration.

#rethinkchurch
#umc
#Lent
#Celebrate

Reflecting on the Beatitudes

Image courtesy of Hermanoleon Clipart
http://www.cruzblanca.org/hermanoleon/
A few months ago when Chaplain Carlton sent out the preaching schedule I was happy to see that I had an opportunity to kick off the season of Lent and our series of teaching from the Sermon on the Mount. I was even happier to see that the section of the Gospel he had given me included verses 13-16 from Chapter 5, because the Beatitudes are always challenging to preach from and maybe this time around I would just go with salt and light. A few weeks later an updated schedule was sent out and all I had was the Beatitudes. So I reached in my drawer of pastoral care supplies and grabbed a straw so I could suck it up and learn something new while I got ready to share. Truth be told, I’m glad it changed and that this was my text. It’s been a blessing to study and reflect and learn as I got ready for this talk. “Blessed are those who wrestle with texts…God will open their hearts and share the Kin-dom of Heaven with them.”
Looking at the previous chapter sheds some light on the Sermon on the Mount and, more specifically, the Beatitudes.  In Matthew 4:18-22 Jesus calls his first Disciples (Simon Peter and Andrew and James and John…all four of them fishermen).  
In Matthew 4:23-25 Jesus is teaching throughout Galilee; he is curing disease and sickness, which causes his fame to spread and soon all manner of “needy” people are brought to him and now, what started as Jesus and four fishermen, is described as “great crowds” following him.
Take a moment and think about what it would be like to have great crowds of “needy” people following Jesus.  Matthew describes it like this: “they brought to him all the sick, and those who were afflicted with various diseases and pains, demoniacs, epileptics, and paralytics, and he cured them.  And great crowds followed him…”
We were ready to go beyond merely serving the poor; we were stepping into the realm of being in ministry with the poor.  It’s a fine line between ministering TO and ministering WITH, and we were ready to take a step over that line.  One Sunday a woman showed up with her daughter and her son and during the joys and concerns she asked for prayers for her children’s father who was in prison. This was her first time worshiping with us, and you could feel the tension in the room after she voiced this need for prayer. After the service she introduced herself to me over a cup of coffee and shared with me that she was HIV positive. Again, this was her first time joining us for worship and fellowship. Monday morning my office phone rang, “Pastor, I’m just not sure how comfortable I am having children in the nursery who have a Daddy in prison and mother who is HIV positive.  The other children aren’t going to know how to relate. It’s going to scare them.” Opening ourselves to the lives of others in our community creates growing edges; we encounter situations we may not know how to relate to.  
And Jesus recognizes this as he looks at the crowds who follow him.  And Jesus recognizes this as he looks at the lives of those he has called to be his disciples. Here are people pulled together by their need for him; people pulled together by their need for grace and healing and wholeness, but they are from vastly different realities.  So Jesus steps away from the crowds and goes up the mountain (which I always take as a sign that he’s drawing near to God in prayer) and his disciples come to him and he teaches them by saying:
“Blessed are the poor in spirit…blessed are those who mourn…blessed are the meek…”
One translation says, “Happy are the people who are hopeless…happy are people who grieve…happy are people who are humble…”
In the book We Make the Road by Walking Brian McLaren reminds us that “In Jesus’ day, to say “Blessed are these people” is to say: “Pay attention: these are the people you should aspire to be like. This is the group you want to belong to.”
So Jesus is saying to his disciples, “Alight guys, listen up.  This is what the dream team looks like.” Or he’s just revealed his fantasy football team (I realize the season is over…but it works!) and I can imagine that the disciples are looking at the crowds of broken people and they get this confused dog tilt to their heads as he says, “Blessed are hopeless and the grieving and the humble.” 
Because in their heads the disciples are thinking, “Jesus I know you’re saying this is your Dream Team, but it looks more like the Bad News Bears or the Island of Misfit Toys!”
And as their confusion becomes evident, Jesus says, “Blessed, too, are those who are hungry from injustice and who are thirsty for righteousness; blessed, too are those who pour out mercy and those who have pure hearts and those who make peace with their neighbors!”
And maybe the confusion becomes more like discomfort because Jesus has just said that the hopeless and the hope-filled are meant to dwell side by side on his dream team…and the broken tangled masses (the people afflicted with various diseases and pains, demoniacs, epileptics and paralytics) are meant to sit side by side in Church with those of us who want to think we have our lives in order.
We are comfortable with socially compartmentalized lives, in part because we are taught that there are people in this class and there are people in that class. Think about all the great stories built on social conflict. Romeo and Juliet have families at war with each other, which makes the two lovers star-crossed; many of us were required to read The Outsiders in high school, which reminded us of the conflict in social groups with the Greasers and the Socs. And who can forget that pivotal moment in a different story, when the letter jacket rides up from inside the wishing well and Troy shouts, “Andy, you Goonie!” The lists are plentiful and we are taught to believe, if we read these tales with frequency, that crossing social lines is doomed, at least fictionally speaking.
But this exists in reality as well. A few weeks ago, when Audrey was sharing about Gospel for Asia she touched on a people in India called the Dalit. Literally translated, Dalit means untouchable. If you are Dalit, you are Dalit; nothing can change that. If you are Dalit, you cannot draw your own water, nor can you ask someone to draw water for you. You rely on the initiative and charity of others. The belief is that the uncleanness of Dalit is somehow transferable, and that’s why Dalit are untouchable. To drink water, they use unfired mud cups that can be returned to the earth after drinking from it—because it can’t be reused or touched by anyone else after being touched by Dalit.
Jesus says, “Blessed are the untouchable…for the Kin-dom of Heaven belongs to them.”  Jesus says in this teaching, if the poor in spirit and the mourning and the humble happen to overhear, “There is room for you here in this movement of God!” And what a relief to know, that when no one else will take us, Jesus is there with open arms! And let me say that again, just in case you need to let it soak in, when no one else will take us, Jesus is there with open arms.
And then Jesus adds, the ones who show mercy to those who dwell on the other side of the tracks are also blessed, and to love with God’s love (to be pure in heart) is to be blessed, and to make peace and live side by side with those no one else will live by, that is to be blessed. When those who know they are blessed, choose to live in a way that shares that blessing with those who do not know they are blessed or those who feel they are not blessed, the Kin-dom of God expands.
After the decision was handed down in Ferguson and the protests erupted, signs popped up across the country and hashtags popped up on social media declaring: “Black Lives Matter.” And they do. The Beatitudes call the church to stand with those who declare this.
After two Police Officers were killed in their patrol car, signs popped up across the country, and hashtags popped up on social media declaring: “Cops’ Lives Matter.”  And they do. The Beatitudes call the church to stand with those who declare this.
And recently, with the execution of twenty-one Coptic Christians by ISIL, a new hashtag has popped up declaring, “Coptic Lives Matter.” And they do. The Beatitudes call the church to stand with those who declare this.
And in between all of this, there have been declarations that “All lives matter.” And they do. This is the message of the Beatitudes.
If there is no clearer declaration we can find in the Beatitudes, it is this: “Those who try to follow Jesus are blessed. They are blessed if they know it; they are blessed if they don’t. They are blessed if they believe it; they are blessed if they don’t.” All lives matter.
Jesus makes it clear: “If we want to be his disciples, we won’t be able to simply coast along and conform to the norms of society. We must choose a different model of success, a new identity with a new set of values.” 
But this new identity and new set of values, this non-conformity to the norms of society, may well come at a price…and that, too, brings a blessing:
“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness sake, for they will be called children of God.  Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and say all manner of evil against you falsely for my sake. Rejoice and be exceedingly glad, for great is your reward in heaven.”
Do you feel the progression in this text? Jesus starts out by welcoming the unwelcome, by making a place for the untouchables; then he says that when we join him in that we are blessed by seeing his love change lives and hearts. And then he says, “And when nobody else gets what you’re doing, keep on keeping on, even when you’re persecuted, even when you’re hated…in fact, keep on keeping on and rejoice in the midst of it all because then you know the cross, you REALLY know the cross. And it’s only when you know the cross that you can know resurrection.”

At the end of it all maybe the Beatitudes is a model for the Church. The Church isn’t meant to be homogeneous—it’s certainly not meant to be the most segregated hour of the week; we aren’t meant to be “shiny happy people holding hands” or “people who are faking it till we make it.” We’re meant to be people in various stages of wholeness, and sometimes some of us are at the stage where wholeness feels like a pipe dream. And if that’s you, that’s okay; there is room for you in the Kin-dom. As you figure it out, we will be with you.

Photo-a-Day Day Four: Joy

On my morning run I came across this bold declaration of truth, painted on the sea wall.

Not everyone would agree with this statement, but I hold that it is a choice to believe this or a choice to believe the alternative.

I choose to believe in beauty.

#Joy #RethinkChurch #UMC #Lent

Friday, February 20, 2015

Photo-a-Day Number Three: Alone

For my Lenten reading, I have been re-visiting the book Soul Cravings by Erwin McManus.

In this entry he is talking about  Belonging, having a place that takes us in, makes us part of something else.  He describes how it happens in healthy ways and not so healthy ways.

"You were never meant to be..." ends one page; the next page has a single word.

"alone"

The Invitation to Lent, in the Book of Worship, tells us that Lent was a period of preparation for converts; it was also a season of penitence for those who had fallen away from the community of faith; it was a reminder of how much everyone needs to renew their faith and how desperate we are for grace.

We aren't meant to do life alone.

#RethinkChurch 
#UMC
#Lent

Thursday, February 19, 2015

Photo-A-Day Number 2: Look

Road Mirrors are an exceptionally helpful part of driving in Japan, as many intersections happen to be blind intersections.

So as I thought about the theme of the day, "Look," I thought of road mirrors and the added perspective they give while we try to safely navigate our journey.

Somehow this makes sense to me from a spiritual perspective. Our spiritual disciplines are intended to give us a wider view, some added perspective as we navigate this journey.

#RethinkChurch #Lent #UMC #Look 

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Photo-A-Day Number One: Announce

It's a terrible photo, but to be fair I was on my morning run and it was about 5:20 a.m.

The theme for Ash Wednesday from Rethink Church's 40 Days of Photos for Lent is "Announce."

I want to be as open to seeing the words revealed around me rather than planning out what pictures I want to take based on the word/theme of the day. 

So I was running and it's dark and I come upon this area of construction that I frequently encounter on my running outings and I recognize that the red flashing lights are directing people to the safe place for walking. There's even thick rubber mats to reduce the risk of tripping over rocks.  But the band of red lights sort of shout into the darkness, "Here! This is the safe path! This is where you need to be." And I knew that this was today's picture.

Even if the quality is horrible.

#rethinkchurch
#Lent
#Announce

Ash Wednesday 2015

Erwin McManus tells a story about an experience he had while rafting (in his book Uprising: A Revolution of the Soul).  In the calm water the rules about a tight/snug life jacket “made about as much sense as a seat belt in a parked car” but after the raft had flipped in the rapids and he was fighting to keep his feet up and his head above water the rules made complete sense.  He describes the thoughts of fear and regret as he looked for a way to get out of the rapids, all while struggling to keep his feet up and his head above water, and in the midst of it all “it was as if I could hear a voice inside of me both crying out and confessing without shame, ‘I want to live!’” A few pages later he says, “I am convinced that in all of us there is a voice crying out, a confession waiting to be declared without shame, ‘I want to live!’”
Perhaps I am stating the obvious, but I am increasingly convinced that if we forget that this relationship we are in—we being the Church, we being the Bride of Christ—if we forget that this relationship we’re in is nothing more than a matter of the heart, then we are missing the whole point and we are giving away opportunity after opportunity to live an abundant life.
In my church tradition we frequently voice a prayer of confession that begins with the most important thing we can ever confess: “We confess that we have not loved you (God) with our whole heart.”
I spent several years away from Church in my teens and early 20s.  When I returned to the church it was in a tradition where we had weekly confessions.  As we made our confession we stood before a large icon of Christ, with the priest standing at our side.  One Saturday I was standing there, looking into the eyes of the icon and I quietly offered, “I don’t know if I have anything to confess this week.”  I mean, I had been an impatient father and husband on more than one occasion, and I had been a less than charitable human on more than one occasion, but why bother Jesus with that? So I said, “I don’t know if I have anything to confess.”  And the priest, standing next to me, quietly said, “Maybe, Daniel, that is where you need to start.”
We confess that we have not loved you with our whole heart…
Why do we say that? Because the Shema says, “Hear, O Israel…you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart.”  And Jesus, when asked what the greatest Commandment is says, “The first and greatest commandment is this: You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart…” (He’s reciting the Shema, by the way.)
And if you didn’t notice it when the scriptures were read this evening, there is a theme woven throughout:
Joel  says, “Return to me with all your heart;” in the psalm David says, “Create in me a clean heart, O God; “ and in Matthew Jesus says, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
Each one of these texts reminds us, “Don’t forget, this relationship is a matter of the heart.”
One pastor mentions, “A commitment of the heart is not simply an emotional response. Since the heart was considered the seat of thinking and willing, it implied total dedication.”  And if you think about it, when we see a musician playing a certain way we say they’re playing from the heart, or when an athlete puts forth a stellar performance we say that person really put their heart into it.  
So Lent, this season where we prepare ourselves is all about cultivating God’s Christ-revealed love in our hearts.  Regardless of the disciplines we take up, or the things we set aside, we’re really letting the Holy Spirit take some farm equipment to the soil of our hearts.  It’s all interior work.
So why then do we mess around with such a visible thing as ashes?  I mean, Joel tells us to rend our hearts not our garments, and Jesus says not to put our piety on display for everyone to see; and isn’t a big ashy smudge of a cross doing exactly that?

Truth be told, I’m not sure the ashy smudge of a cross is a display of piety.  “Most of the time we need to think, and others need to think, that we are decent persons…the Ash Wednesday liturgy stage-manages us into public exposure: we are not what we seem.”  Piety on display boldly declares, “Look at my holiness!”  The ash says, for the world to see, whether we want it to or not, “Here is my brokenness, not my piety; here is proof that I am not as put together as I would like you to think I am; I am ashes, I am dust, and I need you to forgive me. I need resurrection.” And maybe from somewhere deep inside, the ash gives voice to the confession, “I want to live!”

Monday, January 19, 2015

Saint Anger No More

And there's always a place for the angry young man 
With his fist in the air and his head in the sand 
He's never been able to learn from mistakes 
He can't understand why his heart always breaks 
His honor is pure, and his courage as well 
He's fair and he's true, and he's boring as hell 
And he'll go to his grave as an angry old man.
~Billy Joel “Angry Young Man”

"Rage Face"
I meet quite of few of these people. People who will go their graves angry. Truth be told, they break my heart and they motivate me to be more forgiving.  

I want to be more forgiving because I don’t want to go to my grave as an angry old man. I screw up a lot: I’m still learning my vocation, and I’m still learning how to be a good husband, and I’m still learning how to be a good father, and I’m still learning how to be a good son and brother. And in the midst of this learning, I am able to recognize my own need for grace and forgiveness.  And in recognizing my own need I cannot help but recognizing the that the other has the same need.

We must develop and maintain the capacity to forgive. He who is devoid of the power to forgive is devoid of the power to love. There is some good in the worst of us and some evil in the best of us. When we discover this, we are less prone to hate our enemies.-Martin Luther King, Jr.

But more than simply recognizing that the other has the same need for grace as I do, I want to be more forgiving because it has the ability to free me from being angry. 

I’m still learning this.  Just want to say that up front.

If I forgive the other (whether the other is a person or an institution or a situation), the other no longer has control of me on an emotional level, or on a spiritual level.  

I remember facilitating a study called Companions in Christ, The Way of Forgiveness.  The author of the study said something along the lines of this, “Forgiveness frees us from the power of another person’s nightmare.” As I scoured the Internet looking for this quote I came across this one:

"Not to forgive is to be imprisoned by the past, by old grievances that do not permit life to proceed with new business. Not to forgive is to yield oneself to another's control...to be locked into a sequence of act and response, of outrage and revenge, tit for tat, escalating always. The present is endlessly overwhelmed and devoured by the past. Forgiveness frees the forgiver. It extracts the forgiver from someone else's nightmare.”-Lance Morrow

I have told this to many people in words less eloquent than Marjorie Thompson (the author of The Way of Forgiveness) or Lance Morrow. So maybe I’m just putting this up here as a reminder to myself of these quotes; to save them for future reference, perhaps?

But to be honest there’s a part of me that hopes that someone reading this needs to read those quotes and can begin the process of forgiving the other.

It really is a process, too. I can’t say how much I wish that I could just flip a switch and the work of forgiving was done. But I find that the more I live, the more I am faced with reality that forgiving the other is a long, ofttimes painful, process. And the prayer that accompanies us along the way are the words “I believe, Lord; help my unbelief.” (Mark 9:24)  These words help me accept that I cannot do this work alone, but that I have the desire to step out onto the path that may lead me to forgiving. And to be on the path to forgiving means I’m on the path to not being angry about that event any more.

I wish that we were able to get through life without encountering people and situations that cause us pain. But since that’s not going to happen, it’s helpful for us to learn the capacity to forgive.  Otherwise, we just end up being angry. And the more angry we are at the other, the less we want to trust the other.  And we won’t just distrust the other that has done us harm; we will begin to distrust all the potential others who may bless us and we end up being angry and alone.

Some of you may be thinking that I’m just being naive, that forgiving others just makes it easier for others to take advantage of us. Maybe you’re right, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take.


(I’m stewing a post about how naivety is probably more of a virtue than a vice, so look for more on that topic later.)

Saturday, January 10, 2015

Jan 11, 2014 -- Baptism of the Lord

Photo at The Yellow Spring in Glen Helen Reserve in Yellow Springs, Ohio;
photo credit: Jennifer Dawson
Grace, peace, and mercy are yours in the name of the Triune God…
I always enjoy the opportunity to preach on this particular day in the cycle of the Church year.  For the traditions of the Church that follow the lectionary calendar, the first Sunday after the feast of the Epiphany is called the Baptism of the Lord.  In the Eastern Orthodox Church, the Baptism of the Lord is called Theophany—which means a manifestation within creation of God’s uncreated glory.
I enjoy preaching on this particular Sunday in the cycle of the Church calendar because it is the anniversary of my Baptism.  I was baptized on Theophany at Saint Innocent Orthodox Church in Eureka, California.  It was a typical North Coast of California day for January.  Cool mist hung in the air, the sky was gray.  The community had brought the font into the Nave of the Church and filled it with a water hose connected to the outside spigot.  There was a lot of ritual, which I don’t specifically recall; what I do recall is the triple dunking in the cold water—the water from the hose connected to the spigot outside— and how that on the third dunk I didn’t have the chance to take a good breath, so when I came up and gasped for air it was like my first breath all over again.  I also remember that as I stepped out of the font the clouds parted briefly and the sun shone through the church windows.
Then there were the words I spoke to my friend a few months later, “I think it would be kind of cool to be a priest someday.”  (But that conversation, and that part of my story, is for another time.)
I love preaching for Baptism of the Lord because it’s my re-birth day.  But this isn’t about my story.  This is about the narrative of Jesus’ Baptism by John in the river Jordan and the text we just heard and what that text might say to us today.
Mark’s Gospel is a fast paced read.  Many commentators speak of immediacy as a theme of Mark’s Gospel.  In the first chapter the word “immediately” occurs eight times, depending on the translation and throughout the gospel “immediately” occurs almost 40 times.  Mark wants to communicate to his listeners who Jesus is and what Jesus did.  
So…who is Jesus?  Mark 1:1 says this: “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”  This is how Mark begins his gospel.  There is no birth narrative in Mark’s Gospel.  Coming out of the Christmas season where we are surrounded by the word pictures of Matthew and Luke telling us about how the birth of Jesus came to be and shepherds and angels and magi, we now get Mark’s gospel which begins at a sprint by saying, “the beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”  And since there are no angels appearing to Mary or Joseph—since Mary and Joseph don’t have roles in the opening of Mark’s gospel—we have the Baptism of Jesus.  This moment, where the heavens are opened and the dovelike Spirit descends and the voice from heaven declares, this is the moment where Mark establishes that in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus God is breaking into the world—and the uncreated glory of God is manifest in creation—the Kingdom of God is here.
Pretty cool, but what’s the Baptism of Jesus have to do with the Church today?
One pastor wrote, “The glory of our Lord is not just a spectacle. He comes to save us and make us new people. God forgives us, heals us and sends us. God will give us missions and challenges beyond anything we can imagine.” (Robert B. Slocum, Forward Day By Day, 10 Dec 14)
This is precisely what we are confronted with the baptism of Jesus.  If we hold that Jesus’ Baptism was a moment of Theophany, a manifestation of God’s glory, then we have a choice of letting it be a spectacle trapped in a single moment in time or letting it be alive and real in the world today.
God appeared to Abram and blessed him to be a blessing, Abram and Sarai became Abraham and Sarah; Jacob wrestled with God through the night, refusing to let go until God has blessed him; Jacob’s name became Israel and he never walked the same after meeting with God; God appeared to Moses in a burning bush and Moses became the liberator of slaves, leading them to the promised land.  Isaiah has a vision of God in the heavenly throne room, cries out in fear and then says, “Here am I; send me!”
The glory of our Lord is not just a spectacle.  To be a witness to these moments is an invitation to transformation.  To be a witness to these moments is to hear God’s call to be a blessing, to have our walk changed for the rest our lives, to liberate those who are enslaved and lead them to freedom.
What does the Baptism of the Lord have to do with the Church today?  Everything.
I know a church that reminds the congregation of these words every week: “God loves you exactly where you are; but God isn’t content to leave you that way.”  We are baptized with the Baptism of Jesus, not the baptism of John (Acts 19 talks about this distinction) and with the Baptism of Jesus we, like Jesus, have the Spirit of God take up residence within us, and, again like Jesus, have the voice of God call us the Beloved.  We are marked with the Cross of Christ and sealed by the Holy Spirit forever.
Baptism is identity and purpose.  Our identity is that of beloved.  Our purpose is to live as beloved.  To recognize we are blessed to be a blessing.  We called to speak the name of beloved over others, to call forth that identity from within them.
Henri Nouwen says it like this: “Claiming your own blessedness always leads to a deep desire to bless others…the blessed one always blesses. And people want to be blessed! …we can have no illusions about the darkness. The loneliness, the homelessness, the addictedness of people are all too visible. Yet all of these people yearn for a blessing. That blessing can only be given by those who have heard it themselves.”
Make no mistake, the loving purposes of God are found in the waters of Baptism.  The desire of God is for us to awaken to our identity as Beloved, as blessed ones! But with the acceptance of that identity comes the acceptance of purpose.  Of loving as we have been loved.  
Let me give you something to take into your devotional and prayer time this week—if you’ll have it—I need to contemplate these things as much as anyone else does.  First, spend time receiving the gift of being Beloved.  Sit with that knowledge, regardless of whatever voices you may have lurking around the edges; voices telling you that you need to “prove that you are worth something… so that you will earn the love you desire,” sit with the gift of being Beloved. Let this voice be the core of your identity: “You are my Beloved, with you I am well pleased.”  Second, ask God how you might live as the Beloved, and look for those who would cross your path this week who need to hear that.  Frustrated spouses, cranky or sad children, people who are looking to the world as a source of life and find only frustration and sadness.
Like I said, I need to contemplate these things as much as anyone, so I hope you’ll hear my offering with love.