Getting ready for the power from above...

NOTE: Here are my worship notes for Sunday, May 16, 2010. It is Ascension Sunday - a tough liturgical day for many in our tradition - and one filled with challenges and insights. I love this Sunday and share a few reasons why in my reflection. Perhaps you will find yourself in town - if so, please join us for worship at 10:30 am.

Today is the Feast of the Ascension of Christ: it is one of my favorite celebrations in the life of the church, but also one that has become ever more complicated for people of faith in the 21st century. As one scholar observed, before the realm of science – before the work of the space program – we didn’t really have to wrestle with this feast day.

On a flat earth it was easy to point to where God lived. God was up beyond the dome (of the sky) and in fact was partly the dome itself holding back the chaos that seemed so close in that early world devoid of simple scientific rationale. Coming with this middle-eastern cosmology to the events of Jesus’ death, resurrection and re-assimilation into God it was easy (therefore) to speak of him having “ascended” back to God: literally back beyond the dome… but that doesn’t work so well in 2010.

Such simple-mindedness, however, just makes our brains hurt in this generation: where IS up from a planet suspended in space? And “given what we now know about the size of the Universe, ascension gets us into all sorts of problems such as how far, how high, which galaxy?” (Peter Woods, “Up, Up and Inside,” May 11, 2010)

So let me suggest that we put any and all inclinations toward literalism aside in our contemplation of Ascension Day and consider what deeper insights our still speaking God might be sharing with us on this sweet celebration. For when we put the insights of the scriptures into a context, they begin to reveal both the comfort and the challenge of being Christ’s disciples in our generation. Like St. Paul told the early church:

It's in Christ that we find out who we are and what we are living for. Long before we first heard of Christ and got our hopes up, he had his eye on us, had designs on us for glorious living, part of the overall purpose he is working out in everything and everyone… (and) once you heard this truth and believed it (this Message of your salvation), you found yourselves home free—signed, sealed, and delivered by the Holy Spirit. This signet from God is the first installment on what's coming, a reminder that we'll get everything God has planned for us, a praising and glorious life (in God’s own time.)

So first let’s remember that the story St. Luke tells us about Christ’s ascension into heaven takes place… when? Do you recall? The words of Luke in Acts tell us it was 40 days after the resurrection – 40 days after Easter – so why do you think this is important? What do you recall about the number 40? We know that our ancestors in faith – our Jewish cousins in Israel – used the number 40 repeatedly to speak of significant encounters with God’s presence in history:

• Noah and his brood were on the ark after the flood for 40 days and nights.

• The children of Israel wandered the wilderness and were tested and purified by God’s spirit for 40 years.

• Moses spent 40 days on the mountain with the Lord.

• The prophet Elijah spent 40 days hiding in a cave when he was most afraid and confused about his mission to a decadent society.

• And of course, Jesus fasted in the wilderness for 40 days and night before beginning his public ministry.

So, by using the number 40 St. Luke is not only asking us to make a connection between the life, death and resurrection of Jesus and the story of God’s love in Israel, he is urging his community to pay attention. Whenever you hear the number 40, he wants us to remember, then something important is about to happen. That’s the first insight on Ascension Sunday – and it has nothing to do with cosmology, science, spatial relations or literalism. It is an invitation and a warning: take notice because something big is about to happen.

The second insight takes place when we realize that St. Luke is retelling the story of Christ’s birth and ministry in the book of Acts. You might even say that Acts is chapter two of the Luke’s gospel because the same person wrote it.

• Did you know that? I’m not telling you something new here right?

• Luke wrote both the gospel of Luke and the Acts of the Apostles – and he does something quite important in chapter two – when he tells us that just as Jesus was conceived in the trust and humanity of Mary the first time – the same thing happens again through us by the power of the Holy Spirit.

In the first book, Theophilus,(which means one who believes in God) I wrote about all that Jesus did and taught from the beginning until the day when he was taken up to heaven, after giving instructions through the Holy Spirit to the apostles whom he had chosen. After his suffering he presented himself alive to them by many convincing proofs, appearing to them during forty days and speaking about the kingdom of God. While staying with them, he ordered them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait there for the promise of the Father. “This,” he said, “is what you have heard from me; for John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now.”

Do you see the connection? It doesn’t become full blown until next week – Pentecost – but let’s review the background that Luke is summarizing right now so that we will be ready for the feast. And here is one of those wonderful challenges for Protestants of any era: if we want to be faithful to the Biblical story and embrace the wisdom of the Ascension and Pentecost, then we have to reconsider how we understand Mary – the mother of our Lord – because she is both the key and the model for what it means to be the body of Christ.

• Back in chapter one of St. Luke we read that in the sixth month (of Elizabeth’s pregnancy – and Elizabeth is Mary’s relative – most likely a cousin) the angel Gabriel visited a young Palestinian peasant girl by the name of Miriam.

• Gabriel – however you understand a spiritual messenger of the Lord – is the same angel who came to Zechariah (a high priest of Israel) and Elizabeth when they were very, very old and promised that they would bear a child – John the Baptist – who would announce the coming of the Messiah.

Are you still with me? Do you see where this is going? Spirit – Israel – becoming pregnant by God’s grace and deep faith? The text continues: Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And now you will conceive in your womb and bear a son and you will name him Jesus. And when Mary asked how this was going to happen, Gabriel said: the Holy Spirit will come upon you… and by faith this child will be born and called the Son of God. And what did Mary reply? Here I am, Lord, your servant; let it be with me according to your word.

That is part one of the story – Mary is the model of faith through whom Christ Jesus is born – by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. Again, we’re not talking about science or literalism: this is a testimony to what can happen by faith. New life can be born, new hope restored; blessings and bounty can take up residence in old and new flesh alike.

• And then this story is repeated by St. Luke in chapter two – what we now call the Acts of the Apostles – in exactly the same manner as chapter one: by the Holy Spirit, God is going to plant the seed of Christ in the new Mary – the church – and once again the body of Christ shall be born by faith.

• In both the book of Luke – the final chapter – and the book of Acts – the first chapter we are told that Jesus said these words to his disciples: You are witnesses to all that God has created. And see, I am sending upon you what my Father promised; so stay here in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high… for you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth. (Luke 24/Acts 1)

Am I being clear? Do you follow what St. Luke is trying to tell us? By faith, Mary received God’s promised Holy Spirit and gave birth to Christ in the real world. In like fashion, by faith the disciples – including you and me – are promised the Holy Spirit – God’s power from on high – to also give birth to Christ in another form – the church – so that God’s grace may spread throughout the world – first in Jerusalem and Judea and Samaria but then to the ends of creation.

• Do you see why Mary is so important? She is literally the model for how God calls us to become the church.

• So what are you thinking? What’s going on in your heads and hearts?

First, Luke wants us to connect the ministry of Jesus with the grace of God revealed in Israel. Second, he wants us to understand that God’s promise is to continue in creation through you and me and all believers as we give birth to Jesus in our day just like Mary did in hers.

And third there is a very unique promise of both waiting and power involved in these stories: Stay here in the city until you are clothed with power from on high Jesus tells his disciples in Luke – and this is repeated in Acts with the words – wait until you receive my power through the Holy Spirit. Now both waiting on the Lord and embracing the power of Christ can be frightening and frustrating, so let’s take a moment for clarity so that we know about what is being asked of us as disciples and don’t go off half-cocked.

First, wait – kaqizo – which some versions translate as stay or even settle down. Throughout the New Testament this little word means to sit down and stop being preoccupied with other concerns. It has to do with resting and being fully present to what is happening right now.

• Psalm 37 captures the spirit so well: do not fret because of the wicked… trust in the Lord… sit down and wait… be still before the Lord and wait patiently… do not fret for it only leads to evil.

• Like the folk musicians, the Wailin’ Jennys, said when we went over to Northampton to hear them last month: why do you keep fretting and worrying over and over? Worrying is like praying for things you don’t want to happen!

The invitation – the spiritual wisdom – is to wait like Mary: it takes time for this pregnancy to mature – it takes waiting – and letting go. How did old Ram Das put it back in the 60s? “Be here now, man!” Now, let’s be fair: such waiting and resting and living by faith takes practice, yes? It is not automatic.

Left to our own devices we’ll worry and fret and flit from one imagined catastrophe to the next without ever once resolving any of our anticipated anxieties. In fact, some have become so addicted to drama and angst that we have no idea what Jesus was even talking about when he asked us to rest and settle down. The poet, T.S. Eliot, puts it like this:

Endless invention, endless experiment, brings knowledge of motion, but not of stillness; knowledge of speech, but not of silence; knowledge of words and ignorance of the Word… where is the Life we have lost in living? Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge? Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?

And if that is too esoteric, consider the pop culture alternative:

The paradox of our time is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less; buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less common sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness. We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We've learned how to make a living, but not a life and added years to life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space.

To truly settle down and wait upon the Lord takes practice – cultivation – a commitment to the spiritual life. Jesus isn’t talking about gimmicks or schtick – tricks that lure people into worship or church – trinkets that distract but starve our soul of depth and integrity. He’s talking about the time-tested disciplines of being still and settling down; something that is almost unheard of in our day of multitasking and electronic devices that follow us everywhere.

Well, that is part of what Jesus is saying, but not the totality. Because he goes on to tell us that if we learn to settle down and rest in the Lord, he promises that we will receive power from on high. Dunamis – from which we get the word dynamite – the Holy Spirit who will empower us to be as Christ in the world.

• And please be very clear about what this means: it does NOT mean that we will become perfect – or sinless – or obsessed with doing, doing, doing good and noble work no matter how important.

• No, to be Christ in the world is to be his witness – people who have experienced and trusted both repentance and the forgiveness of sins – and are committed to sharing these gifts with others softly and tenderly.

We have, you see, been invited to show the world an alternative – God’s life giving alternative – because time and again, we refashion religion and the heart of God into our own broken image – and that is deadly. St. George Carlin once described his take on religion like this – and for many it is all too true:

Religion has convinced people that there’s an invisible man…living in the sky, who watches everything you do every minute of every day. And the invisible man has a list of ten specific things he doesn’t want you to do. And if you do any of these things, he will send you to a special place of burning and fire and smoke and torture and anguish for you to live forever and suffer and burn and scream until the end of time. But he loves you. Oh yes, he loves you and he needs your money.

We have been asked to make flesh an alternative – Christ’s alternative – inspired by the dynamite of his grace. I think the words of M. Craig Barnes, pastor/teacher at Pittsburg Theological Seminary, transcend his description of what congregations want from their pastor when he writes:

What we really want to see… are those who know what it means to struggle against temptation and despair, just like we do. We want to be led by someone who has also stayed up all night fretting over choices, regrets and fear, but who then finds the quiet grace to start over the next morning. We want to see the Gospel incarnated in a human life that is still far from complete but has become more interesting because the human drama is now sacred. In other words, we want a pastor – or I would say a witness – who knows what it means to be human, but in communion with God. Innocence is precious, but it’s the glimpses of redemption that truly compel. (The Pastor as Minor Poet, p. 53)

And that, beloved in Christ, is why Ascension Sunday, is so important: it helps us begin to see the possibilities God has in store for us by faith. Such is the blessing of the good news, so let those who have ears to hear: hear.

credits:
1) fritz scholder /plainsart.org/collections/fritz-scholder/

2) monica sheldon www.agnesbugeragallery.com/Paintings.aspx?ArtistID=56

2) caroline levis http://www.levisart.com/

3) julie ann bowden fineartamerica.com/featured/mary-and-elizabeth-julie-ann-bowden.html

4) chris ofili tipart.blogspot.com/2010/02/purpose-of-contemporary-art.html

5) lashaun beal tipart.blogspot.com/2010/02/purpose-of-contemporary-art.html

6) mary bogdan flickr.com/photos/marybogdan/50529853
7) cyprian adagi ogambi www.insideafricanart.com/artists%20main%20pages/Ogambi.htm
8) cubism pet-portraitartist.com/learning-to-paint-and-draw/painting-styles/Cubism.htm
9) monica sheldon, ibid
10) chidi okoye www.modernartimages.com/galleryofcubismpage1.htm

After a long day...

After a long day of visiting with members and staff, writing text for a new website that is about to be launched, coordinating our "praying the psalms" conversation and recording two sets of music for upcoming public TV in Pittsfield, Di and I collapsed into our easy chairs for a bowl of turkey ramen soup and a glass of red wine. It was a full and creative day.

+ We are working at launching a summer peace and justice series that combines local musicians with people-to-people efforts at building bridges in Afghanistan, Nicaragua and Israel/Palestine. There is a lot to be accomplished in the planning, but it has the potential to be powerful and rewarding.

+ Our little band, Between the Banks, worked hard tonight and mostly hit the mark: there were a few clunkers (mostly from me) but a LOT of sweet harmonies and beautiful playing. I look forward to posting the fruit of these labors when they become available.

+ And we are inching towards crafting an Open and Affirming process that allows us to wrestle with peace and justice issues - including race, class and differing abilities along with sexuality - as the core of our study/action work next year.

As this long day comes to a close, I rejoice that our seminary member will be with us in worship this Sunday as we try to make sense of Ascension Day for the 21st century. The words of pastor/teacher M. Craig Barnes cries out to me as he reminds us that congregations are NOT interested in gimmicks or schtick!

Because God alone is whole and complete, lacking in nothing... it only makes sense that those who have devoted their lives to talking about God (pastors) would have at least a "small matter" that is missing, imperfect or habitually humbling. The purpose of this unwanted - but divine - gift is to nurture even more gravitas in the pastor's soul. Such gravity is strangely attractive to a society that has tried too long to lack nothing... (in the end) what parishioners really want is a pastor who know what it means to struggle against temptation and despair, like they do.

They want to be led by someone who has stayed up all night fretting over choices, regrets and fear, but who then found the quiet grace to start over the next morning. They want to see the Gospel incarnated in a human life that is still far from complete but has become more interesting because the human drama is now sacred. In other words, they want a pastor who knows what it means to be them, but them in communion with God. Innocence is precious, but it's the glimpses of redemption that truly compel.

On Sunday two different people said something that touched me to the core: they both spoke of searching for everyday music in which they heard God speaking. One resonated deeply with "Bridge Over Trouble Water" - a real favorite - and the other gave me a total surprise - "Message in a Bottle" by the Police. It is so freakin' SPOT on... it may just have to make appearance at Pentecost.

A blessed mothers' day from Nicholas and Royal...

Today's NY Times columnist, Nicholas Kristof, gets it right once again - as he is want to do - in a piece he wrote about putting the cost of Mother's Day in the USA into perspective. Much like my Sunday morning message today, Kristof urges us to honor and celebrate those who gave us life, but also move beyond the sentimental privatism to something more profound and transformational:

Happy Mother’s Day! And let me be clear: I’m in favor of flowers, lavish brunches, and every other token of gratitude for mothers and other goddesses. Let me also add that your mom — yes, I’m speaking to you — is particularly deserving. (As is mine, as is my wife. And my mother-in-law!)

And because so many people feel that way, some $14 billion will be spent in the United States for Mother’s Day this year, according to the National Retail Federation. That includes $2.9 billion in meals, $2.5 billion in jewelry and $1.9 billion in flowers. To put that sum in context, it’s enough to pay for a primary school education for all 60 million girls around the world who aren’t attending school. That would pretty much end female illiteracy.

These numbers are fuzzy and uncertain, but it appears that there would be enough money left over for programs to reduce deaths in childbirth by about three-quarters, saving perhaps 260,000 women’s lives a year. There would probably even be enough remaining to treat tens of thousands of young women suffering from one of the most terrible things that can happen to a person, a childbirth injury called an obstetric fistula. Fistulas leave women incontinent and dribbling wastes, turning them into pariahs — and the injuries are usually fixable with a $450 operation.

So let’s celebrate Mother’s Day with all the flowers and brunches we can muster: no reason to feel guilty about a dollop of hedonism to compensate for 365 days of maternal toil. But let’s also think about moving the apostrophe so that it becomes not just Mother’s Day, honoring a single mother, but Mothers’ Day — an occasion to try to help other mothers around the globe as well.

Oddly, for a culture that celebrates motherhood, we’ve never been particularly interested in maternal health. The United States ranks 41st in the world in maternal mortality, according to an Amnesty International report, or 37th according to a major new study in the medical journal The Lancet, using different data sources.

Using either set of statistics, an American woman is at least twice as likely to die in pregnancy or childbirth as a woman in much of Europe. A friend of mine in New York, a young woman who minds her health and has even worked on maternal health issues, nearly joined the data set last month. She had an ectopic pregnancy that she was unaware of until her fallopian tube ruptured and she almost died.

Maternal mortality is far more common in Africa and Asia. In the West African country of Niger, a woman has about a one-in-seven lifetime risk of dying from pregnancy complications. Women there often aren’t supposed to go to a doctor if the husband hasn’t granted express permission — so if he’s 100 miles away when she has labor complications, she may just die at home. On the 50th anniversary of the pill, it’s also worth noting that birth control is an excellent way to reduce deaths in childbirth. If there were half as many pregnancies in poor countries, there would be half as many maternal deaths.

It’s certainly not inevitable that women die in childbirth, and some poor countries — like Sri Lanka — have done a remarkable job curbing maternal mortality. But in many places, women’s lives are not a priority. There’s no silver bullet to end maternal mortality, but we know steps that have made a big difference in some countries. Bipartisan legislation to be introduced this year by Congresswoman Rosa DeLauro of Connecticut aims to have the United States build on these proven methods to tackle obstetric fistulas and maternal health globally.

Just the money that Americans will spend on Mother’s Day greeting cards for today — about $670 million — would save the lives of many thousands of women. Many organizations do wonderful work in this area, from the giants like CARE and Save the Children to the tiny Edna Maternity Hospital in Somaliland. Women Deliver and the White Ribbon Alliance for Safe Motherhood do important advocacy work. And the Fistula Foundation and Worldwide Fistula Fund help women who have obstetric fistulas. (Details are on my blog, nytimes.com/ontheground.)

So if one way to mark Mothers’ Day is to buy flowers for that special mom, another is to make this a safer planet for moms in general. And since we men are going to be focused on the flowers, maybe mothers themselves can work on making motherhood less lethal.

I had a letter the other day from a woman in Connecticut, Eva Hausman, who was so appalled when she learned about obstetric fistulas that she e-mailed her friends and asked them to contribute at least $20. To date she has raised $9,000 for the Fistula Foundation. “Most of the contributions were accompanied by thank-you notes,” she told me. When people thank you for allowing them to donate — that’s truly a heartwarming cause, and a beautiful way to celebrate Mothers’ Day.

After worship my day came to a close by hosting a jazz concert with Royal Hartigan: his show included an African dancer, a small gospel choir and a smokin' band with sax, piano and bass (he is the drummer.) And by day's end we had raised $1000 for the local women's shelter and hospice and had a damn fine time loving one another through the music, too.

Not everyone liked our take on Mothers' Day - it was not all warm and fuzzy - but I am grateful that we were able to make a small difference in the lives of about 200 people (in worship and at the concert.) It also gave me the idea of bringing some other sacred peace-makers in our community together for music, sharing, community-building and raising funds for those in the greatest need. Thank you Nicholas and Royal for a blessed mothers' day.

Loving Providence...

We just returned from Providence, RI for a weekend of rest and loving - and it is a great place to do both! The "downtown arts" section of the city is filled with funky shops, used bookstores, creative eateries and music clubs which is just about our definition of heaven!

+ We spent Thursday prowling the area for a few hours and in two hours I had four novels by people I had never heard of but look forward to reading. Hung out and sipped beer while watching urban kids play "softball" (very loosely-defined) in a corner park, too.

+ Friday was given over to a gorgeous sun-drenched day in the town of Newport - very subdued and ultimately too upscale for our tastes - but it was fun to wander the old colonial city and come upon beautiful gardens and the first free African-American church in the US - the oldest synagogue, too.

But then it was back to the hood for a warm night, more Rhode Island creative cooking and an outdoor jazz gig that caused us to smile and rejoice. We had hoped for more sun and exploring today but three sunny days in a row is almost too much for the imagination in these parts. So, we left a little earlier than expected...

... and spent a nostalgic and somewhat sad late morning in Webster, Massachusetts. We celebrated our honeymoon in this little burg 15 years ago - my family used to own a ramshackle cottage on the lake - so for a month we rowed the boat, took long walks and slept on a mattress in front of the fire place (no other heating!) Back then the town was wrestling with hard times and now those hard times have taken up residence. It has always been a scrappy little mill town, but now that the wealthy have bought up more and more of the lake front property and driven away the ordinary folk who can no longer afford the property taxes, the place looked worn out

We stopped by our old property - my brother and sisters and I sold it off about five years ago when we could no longer keep up the taxes - and I was sad. The new owners have made the place beautiful - no question they have what it takes - but as Dianne said: "It makes me mad that the little people continue to be squeezed out of their shacks and ugly little summer cottages so that the wealthy can have more beauty to play in."

Well, now we're home - taking naps and cooking supper - and grateful for the time we have spent both this weekend and over our life together. We are likely never to go back to Webster - or Newport for that matter - but Providence has become a treasure for us both and we will want to explore LOTS more as the years go on. (Here's a tune from the GREATEST Springsteen rip-off artist, John Cafferty and the Beaver Brown Band, who hail from Narragansett, RI.)

Anniversary celebration...

It is warm and sunny in the Berkshires - it is my 15th anniversary - and what a long, wonderful and sometimes strange trip it has been. We've been to Russia and Poland and the former GDR, we've taken long trips to England and Scotland as well as Montreal, Tucson, San Francisco, Boston, NYC and the great town of Cleveland, too. We've driven across the United States, served in three congregations and seen two daughters grow up, celebrate their respective weddings and mature into creative and wise young women.

We've played TONS of music and been blessed to be a part of two bands together. We've helped one another face many of our worst demons - we've wounded one another's hearts - and found a way back into a deeper and more trusting love.

So, tomorrow we're headed out for three days of R and R in our new anniversary town: Providence, RI. Great eating places, some sweet music and art museums, too. What's more it is not far from the ocean and only 90 minutes away. So I keep thinking of this song - it is NOT part of Di's world - just mine but still spot on... Thanks be to God for 15 years.

Pursuing the path of peace...

NOTE: As is often the case on Tuesdays, I am posting my worship/sermon notes for Sunday, May 9, 2010. The texts for the 6th Sunday after Easter include the story of Lydia in Acts as well as the words of Jesus from St. John: "Peace, peace I give you - but not as the world gives..."Ironically, today is the 40th anniversary of the Kent State massacre where four students were gunned down by National Guardsment during a protest against the war in Vietnam. Almost immediately 450 colleges and university were shut-down by a student strike and countless high schools - mine included - participated in various ways. Those days were formative for me - in positive and negative ways - and my worship reflections this week suggest exploring another path to peace. (I hope we can also work up this tune.) So if you are in town, please join us at 10:30 on Sunday.

Today is Mother’s Day in our country: a secular celebration that many Protestants have embraced with an odd religious devotion that is clearly palpable but equally peculiar given this day’s original emphasis on both the divine feminine and a commitment to peace-making. When Julia Ward Howe, author of the great Civil War anthem, “The Battle Hymn of the Republic,” issued the first call for an American Mother’s Day in 1870, it was NOT an invitation to take Mom out for dinner or buy her some pretty flowers.

• It was a call for American mothers who had experienced the tragedy of losing their beloved sons in the Civil War to offer the land an alternative to bloodshed. It was a way to teach the world about birthing rather than killing.

• She wrote: Arise, all women who have hearts, whether our baptism be of water or of tears! Say firmly: "We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies; our husbands will not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause. Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience. We, the women of one country, will be too tender of those of another country to allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs."

The truth about the first Mother’s Day, you see, is that it was not a sentimental marketing scheme to sell more ruffles, lace or greeting cards, but rather a summons for women to come together to plan and plot for peace. Listen to the rest of Ward’s original appeal:

From the bosom of the devastated Earth a voice goes up with our own. It says: "Disarm! Disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance of justice." Blood does not wipe out dishonor, nor violence indicate possession. As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil at the summons of war, let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of counsel. Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead. Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means whereby the great human family can live in peace, each bearing after his own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar, but of God.

In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask that a general congress of women without limit of nationality may be appointed and held at someplace deemed most convenient and at the earliest period consistent with its objects, to promote the alliance of the different nationalities, the amicable settlement of international questions and the great and general interests of peace.

Now don’t get me wrong: I love to honor motherhood – I value the festival of remembering how our mothers gave us the gift of life from their very bodies – and bore countless sacrifices to raise each of us as best they could. I believe it is valuable, too, to give pause and recall our mothers who have gone to their graves; their memories continue to give shape and form to much that we experience even today.

• But let’s give up the sentimentality of Mother’s Day – the hokey, maudlin shtick – that diverts our money and attention from the truly sacred feminine.

• In fact, let’s reclaim the soul of Christ’s counter-cultural movement – a movement born of the Lord’s assurance that those open to God’s grace will know peace – “Peace, peace I leave with you,” Jesus said. “I do not give peace to you as the world does – in external ways – for my peace begins within. So do not let your hearts be troubled but trust that God’s Spirit is coming to comfort and lead you into the ways of peace… for I tell you this that you might believe.”

What would it be like to consider the sentimental shtick of Mother’s Day as sin – something that causes estrangement from God – and diverts us away from Christ’s peace? Enter the words of today’s lesson from the Acts of the Apostles and the story of Europe’s first Christian convert: a Gentile woman by the name of Lydia.

• I don’t think it is coincidental that Lydia was the first European to confess Christ as Lord: she was a person, not unlike Mary Magdalene, from the fringe of society.

• She was a soul open to exploring God’s grace rather than judgment. And she was ready to use her life in a way that nourished peace both within and among us.

Scholars say that when St. Paul had to change his missionary plans from going into what we know as Western Turkey and Asia Minor, an angel of the Lord “in the Spirit of Jesus” came to him in a vision and told him to head towards Macedonia – that is into Eastern Greece. And this is where the story gets interesting for Paul is summoned towards Europe:

But not Europe as we understand it in France, Germany, etc., but the easternmost part of Greece… which means that Paul and Silas "set sail for a challenging mission into the cradle of western culture – the home of Homer…and Socrates and Plato… as well as Aristotle and Alexander the Great" (Acts, Westminster Bible Companion). (In fact) the path of the great evangelist, then, is the (direct) opposite of that of Alexander the Great who left Macedonia to bring the Greek language and culture to much of the known world three centuries earlier: "Paul,” writes Bible scholar Charles Cousar,” is Alexander in reverse! And the 'commodity' that this foreigner brings is not warfare, but the good news about Jesus Christ" and his peace. (Kate Huey, Sermon Seeds, ucc.org/worship)

Literally Paul is challenging the status quo by going against the grain of his generation. Figuratively he is incarnating the upside-down grace of God that offers peace from within. And spiritually he is making the word flesh by celebrating the radical home-coming of Jesus who welcomes the outcast, embraces the forgotten and heals the wounded. Enter, again, the sweet presence of Lydia who has so much to teach us about being people of Christ’s peace.

• Many scholars believe she was a former slave who over time was freed and became wealthy. Only the rich could afford to purchase the purple cloth that we’re told she sold.

• She was likely a mother who had great influence over the lives of her family for the text tells us that when she was ready to be embraced by Christ’s love, “she brought her entire household to be baptized.”

And Paul met her on the outskirts of town – on the very fringe of society – where a small group of Gentiles were meeting in a house church to learn more about the God of Israel. Some have noted that Christ’s presence had to be a part of this story because by training it was unlikely that Paul, a Pharisee, would ever willingly sit down and talk theology with a group of women, right? But Paul was a new man by God’s grace… Someone who taught that in Jesus Christ there was no longer Jew nor Greek, male nor female, slave nor free – and in this story we see what it looks like when the words of peace become flesh. Are you still with me? Do you see where I’m going with this? When Paul’s plans are interrupted by the spirit of Jesus – when he has to change direction and act on faith rather than strategic planning – something creative and grace-filled is born.

And the way I see it, Lydia offers us three keys for welcoming the gift of grace into our lives so that we might go deeper into the counter-cultural commitments of Christ and his peace. Her story is an antidote and gentle alternative to all sentimental spirituality – a real Mother’s Day gift. Here’s what I mean:

First, Lydia came to realize that her wealth and social prestige couldn’t fill her hungry heart. She had everything that money could buy, but it wasn’t enough. So, on one level, this story speaks to us about the importance of nourishing the soul.

• Last week, during our Monday evening prayer class, we talked about how hard it is to claim the time to offer even 10 minutes every day for prayer and reflection. For while it is true that we possess all the time that there is, we are also filled with demands and tensions and competing interests that make it so easy for us to avoid soul food.

• There’s work – and that’s important – there’s family – important, too. There’s entertainment and distraction and pain and all the rest. But if all we do is work – if our chief goal in life is possession – if we claim no time for the spiritual – then there will be an emptiness within – the absence of the peace Christ promised.

That’s the first truth Lydia’s story asks us to wrestle with much as Jesus did when he said: what does it profit a man or woman to gain the whole world but lose their soul? Are we making time to nourish God’s love within and among us because every relationship – even one of the spirit – takes time, yes?

Second, both Lydia and Paul remind us that more often than not God’s grace is going to surprise us – sneak up on us – be discovered in the most unlikely places rather than fit into our plans. Paul wanted to go to Turkey and Jesus led him to Europe. If the truth be told, Paul wanted to be a rabbi and Jesus made him an evangelist. Lydia had spent the better part of her life becoming wealthy only to find herself on the outskirts of town. Her hunger for meaning and peace led her “to go beyond the boundaries set for her in a time when women were seen by many as mere property rather than people who owned and controlled property.” (Kate Huey, sermon seeds, ucc.org)

What’s more, as writer Ronald Cole-Turner's observes: This is a lovely but powerful description of a woman who "rises from the text and stands before us even today as a kind of narrative icon, the contemplative Mary and the active Martha in one, her heart set on God even while her work gets done." When Lydia joins the other women down there by the river, this wealthy, powerful woman leaves the circles of influence and goes out to the margins of her society, joining those who undoubtedly had far less power, influence, and wealth than she did. When she encountered the gospel in the preaching of Paul and Silas,”longing and grace meet there on the bank of the river" (Feasting on the Word). Lydia responds to the gospel with actions, with commitment, not only in being baptized but in insisting on exercising the great, foundational Christian virtue of hospitality, the expression of God's own grace and welcome, to the preachers themselves… in her own ironic way, she was preaching to the preachers, through her actions.

God’s grace and peace are rarely where we expect to find them: a stable – a Cross – a simple supper of bread and wine? And we are so stubborn – which is why most of the time we have to the borders of what we know and trust before we can accept what God has always wanted to share. Sometimes that happens on a mission trip – sometimes it means hitting bottom – sometimes it dawns within our darkest fears – and sometimes in truths and events that are so ordinary that we might miss them. The second insight into God’s grace that Lydia offers us is that more often than not we have to get out of our own way before the peace that passes all understanding becomes ours.

And third there is a connection between receiving Christ’s peace and giving it away. Lydia insisted on feeding and hosting her new guests. In a word she embodied God’s grace with hospitality. She fed Paul and Silas – and probably everyone else down by the riverside, too.

Her words were gentle – her heart was kind – she was a person who attracted others to Christ and gave birth to faith by her very presence. So think about how Lydia advanced the cause of peace: carefully, quietly and tenderly.

• Have you ever been a blow hard? A pompous ass? A snarky gossip or maybe just a whiner? I know I have – and fear I still am sometimes.

• Do you ever use sarcasm to mask the violence in your heart? Or say, “I was only joking” when in fact your mean spirit became visible for everyone to see and you’re trying to cover your tracks?

There is nothing attractive or graceful – there is nothing of Christ’s peace – in talking down to others. Or bullying them with your opinions or pontificating about your superior insights. It happens all the time, I know, but as a Vietnam War veteran told me last Sunday: “You can’t make peace in the world if you aren’t at peace within your own heart.”

• And that takes being still more than talking, resting in God’s presence more than agitating and trusting that God really is in control so we don’t have to act like we are.

• Lydia is a model for peace-making in the spirit of Jesus: she recognizes her hungry heart and opens it to God. She gets out of her own way and moves beyond her comfort zone so that she can be awakened to God’s surprises. And she gives back to others better than she has received with hospitality and a quiet embrace.

Like Christ’s own mother, Mary, Lydia gives birth to faith by the gentle ways she lives. And this, beloved, is the good news for today. So let those who have ears to hear: hear.

Handle me with care...

Sometimes things just make you say: please, handle this life with care! Today was one of those days: great people, lots of love - sun, rain, snow and wind all in one day - and my "praying the psalms" class was so good and tender. God, I love those people.

When I got home my sweetie had made pizza - almost unheard of in our lives these days - and then I got this picture from an old, old friend from my seminary days. She used to hang with us - often took care of the girls when she could - but then as so often happens was lost in moves and time and broken hearts. Through the crazy blessing of Facebook, however, we have been able to reconnect and I treasure being back in touch. Here's a shot of when my babies were so little...

In a funny way this whole day made me think of the Travelin' Wilburys who brought together talent, history and fun in all the right ways. George Harrison was trying to pull together a "B" side for a single and before you knew it, Tom Petty, Bob Dylan, Roy Orbison and Jeff Lynne had cooked up "Handle with Care." Totally wonderful...

And some days just make our tenderness so clear and important - and I give thanks to God when I can notice. Sometimes I'm too busy - or self-important - or even tired. But not today - today was all grace - and I got it.

Talking Vietnam potluck blues - part two...

This afternoon I was a part of a discussion about the "moral values" of war... except no one really wanted to speak of morality: history and maintaining the American way of life, yes: reacting to aggression from those who are at war with our way of life, to be sure; but morality and ethics? Not so much...

+ Our panel took place after a stirring presentation of Tim Cole's play, "Medal of Honor Rag," a story of a young Black vet awarded the Medal of Honor by LBJ who is eventually hospitalized for PTS syndrome. In time, he goes AWOL and is killed in a grocery store hold-up. The actors were spot on - the dialogue was compelling - and the ambiguities of war and what often follows back on the home front was insightful. (A whole lot like Springsteen's song "Johnny 99.)

+ Then our panel - four Vietnam vets and me (the conscientious objector) - was asked to reflect on some of the moral concerns about war - but we don't have a common vocabulary for this task. We can honor one an other's experience and give each person room for their own opinions. But we have lost any semblance of a shared notion of morality.

So what happened is that everyone agreed that during the heat of battle people do what they must to stay alive - and you sort it out later. That is a given. There are moral guidelines you might bring into this hell, but all bets are off in the fight for survival. (It would have been good if we could have cut to Victor Frankl's insights about morality in the midst of the immoral death camps; and we certainly could have gone deeper exploring Martin Buber's wisdom that life only has meaning when it is built upon "I/Thou" relationships - but that was not to be.)

Instead, two very perplexing things happened that I a still trying to untangle: Most of the Vets spoke about their experience in combat as a morally ambiguous reality - survival is the name of the game - and "Sophie's Choice" not withstanding, mostly I think they are right. But there was no questioning of how these grunts got into this war in the first place. "Oh that's history - that's in the past - let's not go backwards." But no sooner were these words spoken than an appeal to history was made as to why wars are fought: war is necessary to protect our way of life - history shows us that wars have to be waged fully - otherwise all we'll get is Vietnam.

So, in the context of battle, these Vets appealed to human nature: belief structures all fall by the wayside in guerrilla warfare and morality is irrelevant. But when it came to wrestling with what types of war are moral, then belief - or maybe even ideology - became normative. A few guys put it like this: you have to do what you have to do to save our way of life because there are people out there that want to destroy us.

+ That is a statement of belief - maybe even faith - and faith and belief have a LOT to say about what type of behavior is morally acceptable during the horrors of war. But the American way of life was not at stake during Vietnam. Yes, there was fear of communism after the Chinese revolution in 1949 and the Korean War stand-off of the 1950s. And yes there was a sense that the West had to draw a line in the sand when France gave-up their colonial commitments after the fall of Dien ben phu. But it was not a moral necessity to fight that war - American commitment in Vietnam was an act of belief, not history - and that act needs to be evaluated.

Unfortunately, when such evaluation is suggested today the conversation fell back to onto experience: what would you want me to do in the heat of combat? Which obfuscates the challenge of exploring whether US intervention in the war was moral BEFORE we made a commitment. The same is true of Afghanistan and Iraq: now that we're there, as Thomas Friedman of the NY TIMES says - now that we've broken the country, we own it and have to fix it - that is a given. But the question remains: how do we evaluate going into the war in the first place? That is where we often mix apples and oranges - confuse historical inevitability with faith commitments and ideology - and create more death and destruction by ignorance than intention.

For me, the overt message of the day was: wars are inevitable - and once they start you have to do everything in your power to bring them to a just end. But, no, wars are not inevitable - and not all wars are equal. All wars may be hell when they are being fought, but some wars should never be started and Vietnam and Iraq fall into that category.

Then the moderator asked this question: what did you know about Vietnam when you first got involved? For me that meant listening to Dr. King at Riverside Church in 1967 when I was 15. The other guys said they didn't know anything about the war when they either enlisted or were drafted. Now I know I'm a church geek - and a wise-ass intellectual, too - but I had to wonder if I was thinking about this stuff at 15...? My church had open discussions about this war. We studied what was going on and why it mattered. My high school had a teach-in so that we would not be ignorant. We were wrestling with the moral and historical issues when I was 15...

So I guess what is so baffling to me is that after 35 years the war's is still wrought with such confusion. What's more, when it comes to exploring the moral dimensions of war and peace-making we don't have any common language. Still, there were a few bright lights:

+ One soldier spoke of finding meditation after years of PST and concluded: we have to find a better way of dealing with conflict than killing our children because the wars of today are identical to the wars of my generation.

+ Another officer spoke of the immorality of nuclear weapons and how that option must never be on the table for consideration.

Maybe there just wasn't time to go deeper, but I left the event with a gnawing sorrow that many still believe the lie that war is inevitable. Where is our ownership of American empire, greed or cultural arrogance? Where is the understanding of history that we have created much of the fear and hatred so many people have for America throughout the world? Where is the awareness that most of our opponents do NOT hate us for our values, they fear us because we are so ruthless and immoral?

The older I get the more I understand why Jesus told his disciples that peace-makers will be despised and hated as Utopian idiots. But I think of the good will Greg Mortenson is making turning stones into schools in Afghanistan. Or gentle Rick Steves of PBS who writes in his new book, Travel as Political Act:

Reducing the tragedy of terrorist casualties to statistics strikes some people as disrespectful and callous. But I believe that when we overreact to the threat of the terrorist, we empower them and become part of the problem. By setting emotion aside and being as logical as possible, we can weigh the relative risks and rewards or costs and benefits of various American behaviors. Every three days, a 747's worth of people die on our highways... but in the privacy of the voting booth, is the average American going to vote to drive 50 mph on our freeways to save thousands of lives? Hell, no. We've got places to go. Or consider handguns: 13,00 people die every year in our country because of handguns... yet year after year, we seem to agree that spending these lives is a reasonable trade-off for enjoying our Second Amendment rights...

We spend untold thousands of lives a year for the rights to drive fast and bear arms. Perhaps 300 million Americans being seen by the rest of the world as an empire is another stance that comes with unavoidable cost in human lives. I know this is wild, but imagine we downgraded our 'war on terror.' Fantasize for a moment about the money and energy we could save, and all the good will we could do with those resources if they were compassionately and wisely diverted to challenges like global warming or the plight or desperate people... whose suffering barely registers in the media. Imagine then the resulting American image abroad. We'd be tough for our terrorist enemies to demonize. And imagine the challenge that would present to terrorist recruiters.

To often this afternoon history was selectively chosen to confirm the status quo - and belief used to foster fear - and we still haven't found a way to have a moral conversation about the consequences of war. Perhaps that is for another day...

You gotta have friends...

So the music and friends theme continues to run deep: in just the past 24 hours I have received notes from friends saying things like one of the songs I recently posted evoked tears while another reminded me that if it wasn't for music and friendship his life would be over. And over the past few weeks other dear friends have written to me about the unique love, spiritual friendship and joy we have shared through music.

After worship last Sunday, another musical buddy and I were sharing some hot tea when he observed that the bands harmonies that day were soooo Crosby, Stills and Nash-like. "Yeah," I confessed," those harmonies are like prayers to me. So much so that I even went out and bought David Crosby's solo album on CD..." With this my friend started to hum one of the tunes from that album and I added, "... I felt like I really needed to wake up to "Music is Love." (It is totally the right way to start out the day!)

And as I think about it, there are two reasons why this musical/spiritual friendship connection is so important to me:

+ First, it has helped me experience and search for reverence in the midst of every day living. Last night, on Bill Moyer's last TV show, he was speaking with Barry Lopez. As the conversation ripened, they wound up highlighting how important reverence is for the health of people, creation and our souls. Beautiful music in the midst of every day life - whether that is a song by the Beatles or the Stones, a goofy/sexy pop ballad or simply a heart-felt country tune - awakens me to the presence of the sacred in the secular. Actually, it proves that such a distinction is phony and unhealthy. So, first there is a sweet renewal of reverence in the midst of a life that is often too fast, too harsh and too cynical.

+ And second, singing the Lord's song (or Yusuf Islam's song for that matter) in an earthy way as a part of worship with friends (and I think the wilder the connection between heaven and earth in this realm the better) is like being a jester in the court of a king. In his new book about travel as a political act, Rick Steve's notes that the job of the ancient jester was not simply to make the king laugh. No, the jester spent most of his time hanging out with the wounded and rejected, listening to what the rumors and gossip of the community was communicating and then observing how the elite was being portrayed in the bars and brothels.

It was only after spending lots of time with ordinary people in the grit of their real lives that the jester came back to the castle to give the king a reality check: "People think your a moron because of your stutter. They hate that the queen never shares the left overs from her party with the most hungry, etc." See what I'm saying: by finding everyday music and sharing it with friends in worship we can bring a little truth to power and a little humility to our all too abstract notions of religion. There is still always room for Gregorian chant and Bach - but let's not forget Brad Paisley! (In fact I think this is the most prayerful and powerful song I've come across in a LONG, LONG time.)
And there ain't NOTHING like playing a song like this with friends you love and trust: it would be a bit of an exaggeration to say that you haven't REALLY prayed 'til you've rocked out - or sang tight harmony - or been part of a choir and orchestra - and had your body and soul lifted by the music.... but Luther wasn't kidding either when he taught that "when you sing you pray twice." This montage isn't perfect - some people don't get the aesthetic - but I think it expresses my point as well as anything I've ever seen in the church.

credits: http://my.opera.com/mina_ivanova/albums/showpic.dmlalbum=130181&picture=1859751

Songs of friendship...

My friend, Hal, who does a GREAT radio show on Robin Hood Radio - the smallest NPR station in the USA (check it out at: www.robinhoodradio.com/mediakit.php) is currently doing a show about friendship. And as I have been thinking about friendships over the years, I am struck by the following truths:

+ Most of my deepest friendships are grounded in a love of music. It seems that the songs help us communicate at a level deeper than words, time and place. And the people I resonate with - and often ache to be with - are musicians

+ My friendship and love of my wife, Dianne, is also rooted in music: we literally make music together in a little band, share ideas about songs that help us pray and live more fully and LOVE to go dancing to rock and soul music!

+ What's more, my oldest friendships go all the way back to guys I listened to play in garage bands and eventually played in my garage band, too. I learned to play guitar from a guy I befriended in our Confirmation Class. We started a band a few months later playing songs like "Steppin' Stone" and "Hang on Sloopy" and from time to time we're still in touch (mostly through Facebook.)

When I think about the folks I have became closest to in the various churches I have served, it seems that a band was always involved to express what was most true in my heart - and to just have fun, too. In Michigan, there was the Saginaw Rounders - singing folk music and political tunes like "Unemployment Blues" or "Titabawasee Jane" (about chemical pollution in the river) - in Cleveland there was Jubilee - a more traditional church group doing songs of justice and compassion.

In Tucson, we put together the mother of all bands - Stranger - an 11 member rock and soul group that did gospel, blues, jazz and lots of rock and roll - everything from David Bowie's "I'm Afraid of Americans" and Springsteen's "The Rising" to Carole King, Bessie Smith and the Judds. And now in the Berkshires, we're making sweet music with Between the Banks - a quartet that is just too much fun and very close to my heart - with GREAT harmonies and tunes like "One Voice" and Yvonne Lyons' "Come" and some of the best people I have ever known.

Even my daughters and I find that we still love to hear bands together - or sit in a little jazz club and take in the groove - or share tunes over the Internet as a way of exploring the deepest parts of our lives. Jesse was 2 when we first went to see Tom Paxton and Pete Seeger. And Michal and I celebrated her 13th birthday with a Springsteen concert. Just last week we all hung out to see the Wailin' Jennys and are planning a Rosanne Cash concert for Di's upcoming birthday. I have even made some new friendships over the internet by blogging about spirit and music (and some new friends from Canada are coming to stay for a bit this summer... and we'll go hear Yoyo Ma do the silk road tour music!)

So, I just wanted to acknowledge my love and affection for all my beautiful, musical friends: you have touched my heart deeply and fed my soul.