Winter has finally arrived...

There is no longer any doubt: winter has come to the Berkshires. Six inches of snow today in as many hours and another 6+ predicted by Sunday evening. And when I noted on my Facebook page that I was inside, warm and loved... one of the local clan said in a way that only a grim New Englander could: "Yes, and it is still officially autumn!" Made us laugh out loud - crusty old bastard that he is! Here's what it looks like from my study - thank GOD our neighbor has a REAL snow blower!

Foot note to a road less traveled...

One of the realities that continues to be missed by my progressive friends re: the controversy around Rick Warren is exactly what James Wall noted - only in reverse! Warren, indeed, represents a new type of American Christianity. Call it post-denominational, entrepreneurial or whatever: more and more people have found their way into the Body of Christ through churches like his than churches like mine (or any of the other once "mainstream" but now "side line" denominations.)

What's more, these very non-anti-post-denominational congregations are changing from the once ultra-conservative theology that used to be normative a la Dobson or Falwell to one that puts the issues of justice, hunger and compassion well ahead of the culture wars. (see http://www.newsweek.com/id/143760) Moreover, as more and more young evangelicals live with LGBTQ friends and family, they are discovering that their theology is changing - which is exactly what happened to liberal straight guys like me over the past 30 years. (see http://www.newsweek.com/id/153850)

One of my favorite poets, Joy Mead of Scotland's Iona Community, puts it like this:

Today I shall try to make peace

in practice and in poetry.

I shall choose words and image carefully,

avoiding all that proscribes, restricts,

oppresses, destroys, humiliates, patronizes, enslaves.

I shall fight no fights, not even 'good' ones.

I shall not stand up for Jesus

or be a soldier of anything

not even the cross;

I shall not

wave any flaming swords;

I shall address on-one as Lord

or mighty conqueror;

I shall not put on any sort of armour,

not even the armour of Christ

or the dressings of power...
I shall try to use words

that open minds

and stretch imaginations;

words that show an alternative

to famine, war, racism, torture, unjust structures,

unjust trading systems, violence, war,

all that denies life...

I shall ask questions that stir the heart,

motivate the will,

stretch the imagination,

widen the moral vision,

so that life in all its fullness,

diversity and wonder will be cherished

on this fragile and finite planet...

I shall try to understand compassion

and feel an other's pain

as if it were my own...

I shall look more

and listen more.

I shall live more moments

as given moments.

I shall make mistakes

and admit them humbly...

And at the end of the day,

when things are pretty much the same,

I shall continue to hope.

I shall remember that the personal

is always political; that inner peace

cannot be separated from wholeness

and health in community;

that small acts of beauty

by small groups of people

still carry the potential

to change the world.

Cynicism or the road less travelled?

I don't profess to understand the heart and soul of politicians. I was once privileged to be a part of an inter-racial team that captured the super majority of the Cleveland Board of Education back in the 90s. I served as Vice President and hatchet man in Personnel, too - but politics was not my calling so eventually I left that world. To be sure, I admired Cleveland's Black mayor, Michael R. White, supported many others in the political world and view politics as an essential part of maintaining the social good. I spent a few good years with Cesar Chavez to boot but I do not pretend to understand what makes politicians tick.

That is why I am equally mystified with the way many of my political friends are reacting to Obama's decision to have Pastor Rick Warren deliver the invocation at the inauguration. Now let me state at the outset that I mostly don't like the theology or positions Warren often advocates. He has been mean-spirited when it comes to civil rights for the LGBTQ community and fear-based in his patriotism (he once supported the assasination of the president of Iran.) I suspect that given very little effort, Rick Warren could be easily demonized - and that is part of the polarization I think Obama continues to try to overcome - the demonization of our opponents.

Harry Belafonte told Bono a fascinating story once when U2 first toured the US about how Dr. King and his strategists moved beyond demonization. It had to do with Bobby Kennedy. It seems that the civil rights movement had hit an impasse and Kennedy, as Attorney General, was not willing to be helpful. So some of King's lieutenants began to cuss and bad mouth him to which MLK said, "Stop - no more ugly talk. Say nothing more to me about Kennedy until you can find a way to have him work with us."

So the troops began to do their research and discovered that RFK was a devout Catholic - deeply committed and pious - as well as a product of his Irish American bigotry and racism. In time, they found a way to open a conversation with Kennedy's bishop - making their case with him about the sacred importance of true civil rights - and as the story goes, in time the bishop began to talk with Bobby... And eventually not only did Kennedy change but he became one of white America's greatest advocates for equal rights for people of color. Not because he was demonized but rather because King insisted on discovering his humanity and how they might find common ground.

What's more, after King's assasination, Bobby Kennedy found himself in Indianapolis speaking to those who wanted to loot and burn about his own brother's murder:

For those of you who are black - considering the evidence evidently is that there were white people who were responsible - you can be filled with bitterness, and with hatred, and a desire for revenge. We can move in that direction as a country, in greater polarization - black people amongst blacks, and white amongst whites, filled with hatred toward one another. Or we can make an effort, as Martin Luther King did, to understand and to comprehend, and replace that violence, that stain of bloodshed that has spread across our land, with an effort to understand, compassion and love.

For those of you who are black and are tempted to be filled with hatred and mistrust of the injustice of such an act, against all white people, I would only say that I can also feel in my own heart the same kind of feeling. I had a member of my family killed, but he was killed by a white man. But we have to make an effort in the United States, we have to make an effort to understand, to get beyond these rather difficult times.

My favorite poet was Aeschylus. He once wrote: "Even in our sleep, pain which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, until, in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God."What we need in the United States is not division; what we need in the United States is not hatred; what we need in the United States is not violence and lawlessness, but is love and wisdom, and compassion toward one another, and a feeling of justice toward those who still suffer within our country, whether they be white or whether they be black.

Bono claims this truth as a core value for his work on behalf of HIV/AIDS projects in Africa. You may recall that famous picture of him walking into the White House with President Bush and giving the press corps the peace sign. Or the ONE campaign's pairing of political opponents on a TV ad who found common ground on aid to Africa. The story of Mandela and de Klerk comes to mind, too. I suspect that this is part of what is behind the Warren invitation.

I pray that I will never be so cynical as to believe this is pandering to the lowest common denominator or political expediency to some portion of the electorate. I don't see Obama through rose colored glasses, nor do I think he holds some messianic qualities that have now been tarnished. He is an earthen vessel - like all of us - and a broken vessel at that. This may be a politcal mistake as many are saying (with a shrillness that is deafening!) But it might also be walking on the road less traveled - the road that refuses to demonize your opponent - the road to trying to construct enough trust that common ground can be discovered.

There is one fascinating truth to American politics, however, that I do understand: we LOVE to love the underdog until... he or she succedes. Then we can't wait to knock them down and pull them through the mud. St. Paul told us, "Now we see as through a glass darkly, later we shall see face to face." More times than I can remember, his words have given me pause when I wanted to rush to judgment... and today does not look any different.

Church renewal...

As this Advent winds to a close - and I reflect on my work this year - I am struck by two truths that are both true and simultaneously contradictory: First, doing the work of church renewal is a blessing - when it works people are invigorated and able to share compassion and connection with one another and the world in ways that once seemed impossible; it is also a curse - because when some are invigorated and empowered, others have to share... and sharing is never easy with children or adults.

Think about it: shared power - very challenging - shared commitments - very demanding and time consuming - shared decision making - very complicated in this realm of individualism gone berserk - and shared sacrifice - even harder than shared decision making. That's one of the reasons why I keep going back to the rock band as church metaphor - although it could be jazz ensemble or even choral music society - if you are only trained to be a soloist (or solo performer) you really don't know the joy and commitment required to make a big piece of music WORK! (I think of the solo folk singer colleague I once knew who at parties always wanted to sing those wonderfully morose and individualistic John Prine/Jackson Browne songs: freakin' IMPOSSIBLE because he wasn't thinking about the GROUP.)

Same is often true in congregations: people really have to learn the discipline of being disciples before the renewal takes off. Because the ONLY thing a church really has to offer the world is the grace of Christ - other groups and organizations do food, entertainment, sports and social services better than us - we just have the living spirit of Christ's grace to share. It is totally sufficient, but if it isn't there then NONE of the gimmicks or fun things we might do will make renewal work.

I started playing in a band in high school - we played everything from the Rascals, Beatles and Stones to Jeff Beck, Zeppelin and the Who - and later I played in folk and other rock/church bands that taught me the importance of cooperation and sharing for the greater good. Think of Cream or Blind Faith (back in the day) who had incredible soloists whose ego got in the way too often for them to sustain their magic.

Then think of U2 who have learned to grow and sacrifice together - and they STILL rock - and bring us all beauty and hope!


As this year comes to a close, I am certain that training and encouraging disciples - not soloists - is essential for our renewal. Makes me think of... Grand Funk!

God comes in humility...

One of the ideas I will be exploring this Sunday - the 4th and final Sunday in Advent - is one that comes from both the gospel lesson and the writing of Frederick Buechner: God comes to us in humility. The scripture puts it like this - a tale I love because it describes the little baby John the Baptist dancing for joy in his momma's womb - from Luke 1 which includes this wonderful song of faith and humility from Mary:

Mary didn't waste a minute. She got up and traveled to a town in Judah in the hill country, straight to Zachariah's house, and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary's greeting, the baby in her womb leaped. She was filled with the Holy Spirit, and sang out exuberantly, You're so blessed among women, and the babe in your womb, also blessed!

And why am I so blessed that

the mother of my Lord visits me?

The moment the sound of your

greeting entered my ears,

The babe in my womb

skipped like a lamb for sheer joy.

Blessed woman, who believed what God said,

believed every word would come true!

And Mary said,

I'm bursting with God-news;

I'm dancing the song of my Savior God.

God took one good look at me, and look what happened—

I'm the most fortunate woman on earth!

What God has done for me will never be forgotten,

the God whose very name is holy, set apart from all others.

His mercy flows in wave after wave

on those who are in awe before him.

He bared his arm and showed his strength,

scattered the bluffing braggarts.

He knocked tyrants off their high horses,

pulled victims out of the mud.

The starving poor sat down to a banquet;

the callous rich were left out in the cold.

He embraced his chosen child, Israel;

he remembered and piled on the mercies, piled them high.

It's exactly what he promised,

beginning with Abraham and right up to now.

This is all about God coming to us in humility - and also I think an invitation to be about humility, hope and compassion in pursuit of God with others, yes? Buechner builds on this idea when he writes:

This story that faith tells in the fairytale language of faith is not just that God IS, which God knows is a lot to swallow in itself much of the time, but that God COMES. Comes here. "In great humility." There is nothing much humbler than being born: naked, totally helpless, not much bigger than a loaf of bread. But with righteousness and faithfulness the girdle of his loins. And to US came. FOR us came. Is it true - not the way fairytales are true but as the truest of all truths? Almighty God are you true?

One of the hardest choices I face everyday in this ministry is being patient with myself and others who have confused their habits, biases, weaknesses, bigotry and critical dispositions with the will of God. I hate it when I discover this happening in myself. And I am stunned when others act as if they have never heard of confession - people acting like their habits and small worldviews are the totality of God's convictions - souls who are clueless about how hurtful all of this can be. Perhaps that's why Buechner writes:

It is a still and dark world, in some ways darker than ever before, but the darkness is different because he keeps getting born into it. The threat of holocaust. The threat of poisoning the earth and sea and air. The threat of our own deaths. The broken marriage. The child in pain. The lost chance. (I would add the arrogance of oblivion born of privilege...) Anyone who has ever known him has known him perhaps better in the dark than anywhere else because it is in the dark where he seems to visit us most often.

I give thanks today that despite our collective arrogance God still comes to us humbly and in humility. This is genuinely shocking - a sign of unimaginable grace - and realize that it is a sweet and hopeful promise. Like one I loved said so long ago...

Rock'n'roll midrash redux...

Never to be forgotten, the Wild Women and Sirens of the Spirit also demand a reckoning as my rock'n'roll midrash with John the Baptist and the genealogies of Matthew and Luke continues to devolve... Perhaps the first Wild Woman of rock and roll who totally grabbed my imagination was Rolling Stone's NUMBER ONE vocalist of all time: Lady Soul Aretha Franklin. It was during the summer of 1968, while listening to her sing "Think" while riding home to Connecticut in the back of a Ford Mustang after visiting Washington, DC in the wake of Dr. King's assasination, that I sensed a call to ministry. So... Aretha is surely number one. (Damn - can that woman GET DOWN!!!!! Can I get a witness?!!!))

And the list continues to embrace:
+ Grace Slick
+ Janis Joplin
+ Joan Baez
+ Tina Weymouth
+ Suzy Creamcheese
+ Mary Chapin Carpenter
+ Lucinda Williams (this song KILLS me!)

+ Big Momma Thorton
+ Patti Smith
+ Patti Scialfa
+ Loreena Mckinnet
+ Willis
+ Etta James
+ Joan Osborne
+ Chrissy Hynde (OMG ain't nobody better!)

+ Sarah McLaughlan
+ Martina Topley-Bird
+ Altan
+ Carole King
+ Heart
+ Laryn Hill
+ Sinead O'Connor
+ Sheryl Crow (and she keeps keepin' on!)

And I probably need to add: Tina Fey, Ellen DeGeneres, Carol Burnett, Madeline Kahn, Whoppi Goldberg, Larraine Newman, Gilda Radner, Sara Silverman, Lily Tomlin, Barbara Brown Taylor, Rosemary Reuther, Elsa Tomez, Barbara Jordan, Fannie Lou Hammer, Rosa Parks, Mother Jones, Shirley Chissom and Hilary Rodham Clinton. And let me never forget Germaine Greer, Maya Angelou, Mary Magdalene, Anna Ahkmatova, Emily Dickonson, Annie Dillard, Denise Levertov and Mary Oliver.

These women - as well as my wife, Dianne, and my daughters, Jesse and Michal - have continued to shape and form me. And like the wild men, they aren't the whole truth either but damn they sure come close!

A rock'n'roll midrash on John the Baptist...

So I'm having a rock'n'roll midrash about John the Baptist... thinking of all the Green Men, Wild Men and hard guys who have helped me move from simply being a smartass kid in the ministry to someone who wants to dance tenderly as well as use the sword for justice (as my Celtic ancestors used to say.) Certainly the FIRST who grabbed me was Little Richard - I heard "Tutti Fruiti" before first grade and was HOOKED - and it opened up a whirlwind inside that God is still working to tame.

Then, in no clear order, came these men who continue to be prophets for me:
+ Elvis
+ Jerry Lee Lewis
+ John Lennon (who was eventually supplanted by George Harrison)
+ Bob Dylan
+ Jimi Hendrix
+ Chuck Berry
+ George Carlin
+ Dick Gregory
+ Lenny Bruce
+ The Marx Brothers
+ Firesign Theatre
+ Peter Green (in the OLD days of Fleetwood Mac)

+ Pete Townsend
+ Country Joe and the Fish
+ Jerry Garcia
+ Mississippi John Hurt
+ Jimmy Page
+ Marvin Gaye
+ Bruce Springsteen
+ Eric Clapton
+ Johnny Cash
+ Richie Havens
+ Waylon Jennings
+ Robert Bly
+ Tim Buckley

+ Miles Davis
+ Willie Nelson
+ Garth Brooks
+ Bono
+ Clarence Jordan
+ Martin Luther King, Jr.
+ Malcom X
+ Yussuf Islam
+ Gil Scott-Heron
+ Peter Gabriel
+ Old Blind Dogs

Now I list these men - and I will do a list of wild women, too - because after teaching a class tonight on the genealogies of Jesus in Matthew and Luke and their very different insights, I was struck that we ALL have spiritual/theological backgrounds that warrant careful examination.
These wild men helped me break out of the status quo and find new truths and freedom. They not only showed me what life might look like but they helped me feel it, too.

This Advent - on the second Sunday of considering the old Baptizer - I give thanks to God for the men who have kicked me in the pants and woke me up. They weren't the whole truth, but damn if they weren't vital!

Jingle bells and the Advent Nazi...

NOTE: Here are my sermon notes for the Third Sunday in Advent. I confess that some of my comparisons are facile, but in the context of building a community of renewal and hope during Advent I felt called to emphasize the two very different options John and Jesus offer us.

For those of us who take a spirituality of Advent seriously, there are choices to be made: Sometimes we get trapped in the trappings of Advent – lost a wilderness of details – and obsess on what are truly small concerns: will we sing Christmas carols or Advent songs in worship – will the church appointments be traditional or creative – will we put up tasteful white lights or those tacky colored things? And I know what I’m talking about here because I used to be an Advent Nazi – one who was committed to following the letter of the season no matter what – even if it snuffed out the very spirit of Christ among us. Just ask my family… they’ll tell you what a Scrooge I used to be about lights… and music… and all the rest.

I’ll share a little more about that in a moment, but let me state again: we can get trapped in the trappings of this season and believe that our picayune choices really matter. But these incidental choices are not what I really want to talk about with you today – as illustrative as they may be. No, the choice that really concerns me has to do with whether we decided to embrace the way and heart of Jesus this Advent or that of his cousin, John the Baptizer.

+ Jesus – or John – offer two very different ways of living out an Advent spirituality – for each soul testifies to both an inner grace and an outward style of living – and to be perfectly candid, they are very, very different.

+ Now let me confess something to you: for a long, long time I was confused about who to choose in Advent and beyond. And if I am really honest, I think that I chose the way of John over Jesus for a long, long time. It was a natural – and even common – mistake and it happens all the time.

So let me offer you some broad observations about the spirituality of each person – Jesus and John – and then challenge you to get honest with yourself about who you tend to embrace and follow. There are three essential truths about John the Baptizer that I think are crucial:

+ First, he tended to run away from people rather than wrestle with the complexities of community. He wasn’t an easy person to be around… he was sharp tongued and often harsh. "When crowds of people came out for baptism because it was the popular thing to do, John exploded: "Brood of snakes! What do you think you're doing slithering down here to the river? Do you think a little water on your snakeskins is going to deflect God's judgment? It's your life that must change, not your skin. And don't think you can pull rank by claiming Abraham as 'father.' Being a child of Abraham is neither here nor there—children of Abraham are a dime a dozen. God can make children from stones if he wants. What counts is your life. Is it green and blossoming? Because if it's deadwood, it goes on the fire." (Luke 3: 7-9)

Second, he saw his job as critic and judge, not healer or helper. Think how the third chapter of Matthew puts it: "While Jesus was living in the Galilean hills, John, called "the Baptizer," was preaching in the desert country of Judea. His message was simple and austere, like his desert surroundings: "Change your life. God's kingdom is here." John and his message were authorized by Isaiah's prophecy: Thunder in the desert! Prepare for God's arrival! Make the road smooth and straight! John dressed in a camel-hair habit tied at the waist by a leather strap. He lived on a diet of locusts and wild field honey. People poured out of Jerusalem, Judea, and the Jordanian countryside to hear and see him in action. There at the Jordan River those who came to confess their sins were baptized into a changed life." (Matthew 3: 1-6)

Even Jesus was clear that there was a stark difference between them: John had been locked up in prison and when he got wind of what Jesus was doing, he sent his own disciples to ask, "Are you the One we've been expecting, or are we still waiting?" Jesus told them, "Go back and tell John what's going on: The blind see, The lame walk, Lepers are cleansed, The deaf hear, The dead are raised, The wretched of the earth learn that God is on their side."Is this what you were expecting? Then count yourselves most blessed!" When John's disciples left to report, Jesus started talking to the crowd about John. "What did you expect when you went out to see him in the wild? A weekend camper? Hardly. What then? A sheik in silk pajamas? Not in the wilderness, not by a long shot. What then? A prophet? That's right, a prophet! Probably the best prophet you'll ever hear. He is the prophet that Malachi announced when he wrote, 'I'm sending my prophet ahead of you, to make the road smooth for you." (Matthew 11: 2-6)

And third, John the Baptist was an angry man – he was not filled with peace within – which meant he had a hard time sharing peace with the world. He spoke of bearing fruits that befit repentance – meaning a changed life – but he had a hard time practicing what he preached. Which is where the old adage, you can’t give what you ain’t got comes in – perhaps in spades – so John pointed towards Jesus saying do as I say but not as I do. And this is important because too often the world – or those in need – see us as John the Baptist rather than something of the spirit of Jesus.

Do you know people in this church - or in the wider body of Christ - who are more about judgment than grace? Seeing the problems rather than the possibilities? Pulling the community apart rather than building it up? I would suggest they are infected with the spirit of John's worst qualities rather than the living spirit of Jesus. Take today’s reading from the prophet Isaiah which Jesus used to speak of his public ministry: this is a ministry of healing and hope, restoration and release, recovery of sight to the blind and liberation for all who are oppressed. (Isaiah 61)

+ The ministry of Jesus called people together: "Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly." (Matthew 11: 28-30)

+ He invited real people into healing - socially, personally, politically and spiritually: "Go back and tell John what's going on: The blind see, The lame walk, Lepers are cleansed, The deaf hear, The dead are raised, The wretched of the earth learn that God is on their side."Is this what you were expecting? Then count yourselves most blessed!" (Matthew 11: 3-6)

+ And he was willing to go the extra mile and give of himself – even sacrificially – because he understood that people need authenticity and trust before they will change their ways: "I've told you these things for a purpose: that my joy might be your joy, and your joy wholly mature. This is my command: Love one another the way I loved you. This is the very best way to love. Put your life on the line for your friends. You are my friends when you do the things I command you. I'm no longer calling you servants because servants don't understand what their master is thinking and planning. No, I've named you friends because I've let you in on everything I've heard from God. You didn't choose me, remember; I chose you, and put you in the world to bear fruit, fruit that won't spoil. As fruit bearers, whatever you ask the Lord in relation to me, he gives you. But remember the root command: Love one another." (John 15: 11-17)

Are you with me re: this choice between Jesus and John? St. Paul makes the choice even more clear in the word from I Thessalonians 5: Get along among yourselves, each of you doing your part. Our counsel is that you warn the freeloaders to get a move on. Gently encourage the stragglers, and reach out for the exhausted, pulling them to their feet. Be patient with each person, attentive to individual needs. And be careful that when you get on each other's nerves you don't snap at each other. Look for the best in each other, and always do your best to bring it out. Be cheerful no matter what; pray all the time; thank God no matter what happens. This is the way God wants you who belong to Christ Jesus to live. Don't suppress the Spirit, and don't stifle those who have a word from the Master. On the other hand, don't be gullible. Check out everything, and keep only what's good. Throw out anything tainted with evil.

When Christians are consistently cranky – not every now and again - but as a rule – unable to see the good in life and always looking for a complaint - they are choosing the way of John the Baptist not Jesus. When we obsess on what we don’t like rather than find common ground, it’s John the Baptist at work in us rather than the Lord. And when our tongue – or heart – is cruel and mean-spirited rather than kind and encouraging, it’s the Baptizer rather than the Christ, too.

Not that there isn’t a place for corrective criticism – nobody is perfect, right? And not that there isn’t room for a genuinely no good, horrible, very bad day. But I’ve met Christians – in fact I’ve been that kind of Christian – who will carp and complain rather than listen… who will judge others but get hurt feelings when the boomerang of judgment comes back at them… and who forget that when you point one finger at another there are always at least three pointing back at you. Which brings me back to the days of being an Advent Nazi…

Back in Cleveland, when I was doing urban ministry, we used to have a pretty wild collection of people in worship each Sunday morning: black and white and Latino, rich and poor, those who lived in the projects and those who came from the suburbs – AND – those who knew church tradition and those who didn’t. One Sunday I was preaching and asking folk for their favorite ADVENT song – not a Christmas carol but a song of ADVENT.

I was, you see, trying to do my part in educating the people in right and proper liturgy. When it became clear that there was at the very best a gap in our Advent music knowledge, I suggested: "Well, what about “O come, o come Emmanuel?” You know that, right?" And we sang some of it.

"And what about “Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence?” That’s good for Advent, isn’t it?" And we sang some of that, too. And as I was flipping through the hymnbook to find another, a little old guy by the name of George Spice – I’m not kidding – George Spice started to wave at me.

Now you have to understand that George lived in a group home, had an IQ of maybe 75 and wore the wildest outfits he could find to church: red sweat pants and purple paisley shirts -sometimes silk disco shirts with plaid pants – totally outrageous. A great and dear man who was... out on the edge. So I look up and George is waving his arms at me like he had a question. And when I ask, “Do you have something to say, man?” he nodded and said, “I have a favorite Advent song that has nothing to do with Christmas. Can we sing it?” And I must tell you I thought we were in for trouble because while George was loving and fun, I had a hunch – snob that I was – that he wasn’t well grounded in liturgy. But I had opened the door. So… with fear and trembling I asked, “Ok, George, what is your favorite Advent song?” And without reservation, he stood up and proclaimed: “Jingle Bells!”

He had a point – right? There’s NOTHING about Christmas in that song – no jumping the liturgical gun or confusing sentimentality with piety there – just pure, unadulterated joy. And as he stood there in all of his wild glory, that Advent Nazi inside me began to retreat. He was right – not liturgically pure or sophisticated – but he was right. And then he said, "Nothing about Christmas, right, James? So can we sing it?"

And we did because it sounded like Jesus speaking to me through that sweet old man. So in the memory of St. George the Advent Nazi Slayer's honor I’m going to ask you to sing it with me, too. We have a choice to make: are we going to be John or Jesus – it makes a difference in how we embrace Advent – and how we live in the world. And I have to tell you that the older I get the less time I have for Nazis of any type. I hope the same is true for you, too:

DASHING THROUGH THE SNOW, IN A ONE HORSE OPENED SLEIGH,
O’ER THE FIELDS WE GO LAUGHING ALL THE WAY
BELLS ON BOB TAILS RING, MAKING SPIRITS BRIGHT
WHAT FUN IT IS TO LAUGH AND SING THIS SLEIGHING SONG TONIGHT
OH, JINGLE BELLS, JINGLE BELLS, JINGLE ALL THE WAY
OH WHAT FUN IT IS TO RIDE IN A ONE HORSE OPEN SLEIGH….

I invite those who have ears to hear to hear.

From my name sake? OMG...

So here's a poem posted on Poetry Daily from one of my clan... what a trip. Not one of my favs but a hoot from a namesake, yes?

The Young
You bastards! It's all sherbet, and folly
makes you laugh like mules. Chances
dance off your wrists, each day ready,

sprites in your bones and spite not yet
swollen, not yet set. You gather handful
after miracle handful, seeing straight,

reaching the lighthouse in record time,
pockets brim with scimitar things. Now
is not a pinpoint but a sprawling realm.

Bewilderment and thrill are whip-quick
twins, carried on your backs, each vow
new to touch and each mistake a broken

biscuit. I was you. Sea robber boarding
the won galleon. Roaring trees. Machines
without levers, easy in bowel and lung.

One cartwheel over the quicksand curve
of Tuesday to Tuesday and you're gone,
summering, a ship on the farthest wave.

This needs to be seen everywhere

Di and I are headed to NYC tomorrow to visit with our kids and rest after a tough death and memorial service in our congregation. But before we head out, I wanted to share this with you because it needs to be seen by everyone. Thanks be to God for Jon Stewart.

Saying good-bye to Vicki...

NOTE: these are my notes for today's memorial service for my friend and colleague, Vicki Forfa.

“Reality is the will of God,” said the German mystic preacher, Meister Eckhart. “Reality is the will of God – and while it can always be better – we have to start with what is real.” And from my perspective as Vicki’s pastor, friend and colleague, let me say what feels real for a lot of us today: I hate that she is dead. She died way too young, way too quick and in a way that was way too hard for such a genuinely loving and sweet woman.

I hate it… It makes me cry – it makes me angry – and it makes confused about the love of God. Now, I say all of this not only because I know many of you are thinking and feeling it, but because I am, too. It is only natural to feel hurt and empty and angry when someone like Vicki is taken before what we might think is her time. Not a lot of this death makes any sense, right?

And while some religious traditions try to make excuses for these hard times – talking about the mystery of God or even suggesting that God does these things for reasons we will never know – THIS tradition doesn’t go down that road. THIS tradition asks hard questions – feels hard feelings – and tries to make sense out of hard truths. And one of the hard truths about Vicki’s death is that… it doesn’t make sense. It isn’t fair… and it hurts like hell that she is gone.

THAT, as they used to say on the TV show “Dragnet,” is just the facts ma’am. This is a hard person to lose. Think of what she meant to those who knew and loved her: She was a loving mom who adored Bailey – and raised him to be a sensitive young man of integrity. She was a wife who made a beautiful home and filled it with all the love she could. She was a daughter and sister who cared deeply for her family. She was a teacher who gave over 20 years of her life bringing stability and hope to some of this town’s most troubled children. And she was a Sunday School teacher – and servant of God – who showed the world the loving face of Christ in tender, gentle and compassionate ways.

And it just hurts – hurts deeply – that Vicki is gone. As someone in church said on Sunday, “It feels surreal – it happened way too fast – and really stings!” I agree – and that is the first truth I want to claim today. If reality is the will of God then our reality is that we feel the emptiness in a ton of hard and painful ways since Vicki died. And as some of you know, she felt this emptiness, too. She didn’t really dwell on it – and she didn’t wallow in self-pity – but as Vicki told me last week: “I had some hard questions for God – I had some real doubts in my faith – this is soooo unfair.”

And after shedding a few tears – which she almost NEVER did in public – then she said, “That fear and doubt lasted for about… a whole week. Then I got a sense that it would be alright so I moved on.” I’m not kidding: that’s what she told me. She was angry and confused by the will of God for a whole… week – then she found a way to embrace and accept the reality of her life. "A week?" I told her. "I've been freaking angry and confused with God since February when you got this miserable diagnoses." But that was Vicki...

And that’s the second really important thing I want to share with you today: if reality is the will of God then acceptance is the way into God’s peace. And more than many people I know, Vicki both embodied and shared God’s peace with real depth and integrity. She wasn’t faking it, was she? She knew that peace that passes understanding – that real comfort that God promises – from the inside out. And she gave it away with such grace and ease – one of the great scholars and preachers of our tradition here at First Church, Reinhold Niebuhr, wrote a prayer we now know as the Serenity Prayer – wrote it not too far from here actually one summer in the 1940s – and it says:

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can;and wisdom to know the difference. Living one day at a time; Enjoying one moment at a time; Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace; Taking, as He did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it; Trusting that He will make all things right if I surrender to His Will;That I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy with Him forever in the next. Amen.

Acceptance – facing the truth of our condition in life with honesty and trust – surrendering to the reality all around us as the will of God is how Vicki found a way into God’s peace. She did this BEFORE her illness and she did it through her sickness, too. And I have to tell you: it is the KEY to serenity – peace – living within the very peace of God. Think about what a GREAT spring and summer she had knowing that she was fighting pancreatic cancer. She picked blueberries, lived a full and loving life and was at peace within herself and among us all. And man did she keep her sense of humor: even last week when it was clear that there was less time for her than more she kept making me laugh.

For example, last Monday, when it was clear that her kidneys were failing and I asked her, “Do you want to have any visitors from church?” she said no… not really… she wanted to save her time and energy for those in her family. Then she looked me straight in the eyes and said, “Except for maybe… you. It’d be ok if you came around!"

A few days later when the jaundice had set in and she was really starting to fade she took my hand – and fell asleep briefly. And when she woke up she said, “There’s just one more thing I want to tell you.” And I was thinking it was going to be something profound or deep – something for this memorial service. So holding my hand she looked me in the eyes again and said, “No robe or pulpit, ok?” She knew that I would think of this as an important and formal time and would probably want to wear my robe, but she said “NO robe or pulpit, ok?” Because Vicki wanted to give me permission to be fully me – just as she was fully herself. “No robe or pulpit…” Then she faded away for a minute and when she woke up she said, “It’s going to be ok, now, I know that… so it’s time for you to go!” And we laughed as my eyes filled with tears and she waved me away.

Acceptance – surrender – and trust: they were key to how Vicki lived and shared her faith. They were essential in equipping her with the strength to face this miserable cancer. And they are one of the very important gifts she offers to you and me if we’re willing to pay attention.

The prophet Isaiah told the people of Israel living in exile that God would send them angels to bring them comfort and peace – Vicki was one of those angels, I think, she certainly was to me. And I think she was to her school and her family and her church. She knew how important it was to quietly and consistently bring comfort to those who needed it the most – and her testimony has a lot to teach us who remain about how the words of God become flesh.

She also knew how to bring people together, yes? People who needed one another but might be too afraid or shy or whatever to make a connection. There is a powerful image from the Hebrew Bible in Psalm 85 about how God’s will is done within and among us and it has to do with mercy and justice embracing. A reworking of this song of praise reminded me of Vicki… for it says:

Love and Truth meet in the street,

Right Living and Whole Living embrace and kiss!

Truth sprouts green from the ground,

Right Living pours down from the skies!

Oh yes! God gives Goodness and Beauty;

our land responds with Bounty and Blessing.

Right Living strides out before him,

and clears a path for his passage.

Two little girls in this church – who are not so little anymore – told their momma that they wanted to come back and be a part of this church NOT because of the organ music or the classical music program… And NOT because the preacher… and certainly NOT because the people knew how to be all that friendly. No, the reason why they wanted to come back and be a part of this congregation is because VICKI was there… and she knew how to reach out beyond her comfort zone and embrace them. Make them feel welcome… love them just as they were – if I were to say Vicki knew how to bring compassion and hope together would you say: AMEN!??!

In our tradition of Christianity we sometimes say that the authentic follower of Jesus is NOT the person with all the answers – or all the degrees – or even the best words. No, the real follower of Jesus is the one who knows how to feed his sheep.

To feed the sheep of our world demands compassion – and patience – and tenderness. It requires being true and real and humble. One person said that if you are going to feed the sheep of this world you can’t be too full of yourself. Like communion bread you have to be taken – and blessed – and broken and shared. And man, does that ever describe our sister, Vicki! Taken – by God to be a servant – blessed by God with love and trust – broken by God so that you can feel the wounds of another – and then shared in God’s name so that others might know they aren’t alone.

Vicki did all of that: she knew God’s love from the inside out – she was so humble in EVERYTHING that she did – and it was all so that someone else might shine.. or be loved… or find hope. She had the voice of an angel – that’s what brought her to this church – singing in Lou’s oratorio choir: and she loved music. But what kept her here – and what kept her going – was not music or choirs or official church programs: it was God’s love. A love that had taken her and filled her and blessed her – broken and transformed her – so that she could share that deep peace in life… in death… in life beyond life.

When she was first diagnosed with cancer I asked her what story from scripture this made her think of – and at first she squished up her face in concentration – and then she said she wasn’t sure but that she remembered that I asked her that when she was on the search committee that brought me from Tucson, AZ to this cold, wonderful New England town. We waited for a bit and then I said, you know what story comes to my mind? That story at the end of John’s gospel where the resurrected Lord comes back to have breakfast with Peter on the beach…

It is a story of great tenderness that has two important truths: after talking and loving and healing Peter back into wholeness Jesus asks him, “Peter, do you love me? Then feed my sheep…” He asks this question three times just to make sure Peter got it.. and then he said this and it became true for Vicki over this past year.

Jesus said, “When you were young, you went wherever you wanted to go, but now that you are older you must let someone else gird your loins and lead you into those places you do NOT want to go.”

Vicki did not want to die – she had too much to live for – and you are part of that evidence. And more than many I know, she fought the good fight and made the most out of the time she was given. But when it became clear that life in this realm was coming to an end, she let the Master gird her loins and lead her into those places she did not want to go. And she did it with depth and integrity and faith…

Vicki was a tender and loving teacher until the end… she showed us the blessings of acceptance and surrender – the power of trust and love – and the wisdom of compassion and honor. I have been blessed by her ministry among us and I miss her sooooooo deeply. But I am able to give thanks this day for her life – her life, her death and her life beyond death. Thanks be to God for Vicki Forfa. May she be with her Lord now and forever.