Yesterday one of my daughters posted pictures from our recent birthday weekend - and, once again, that set me off thinking about how the symbolism of God as parents works for some and doesn't for others. All metaphors are incomplete, to be sure, and they clearly shift in their effectiveness over time, culture and context.
+ To think of God as "Abba" - or "poppa" as my daughters sometimes say - is tender and intimate; but only if your real life father embodied those traits, yes? Otherwise, it is frightening and oppressive. With my children - and the children at church - their vulnerability and innocence evokes within me a deep compassion and concern that I know is born from above.
+ I recall making a conscious shift in my theological and liturgical language in the late 70s - leaving behind a lot of masculine words for God - and sensing this had great value for a hundred reasons. I also discovered, however, that in some places and times, I wanted and needed to speak to my "heavenly poppa" and ideology made it uncomfortable. My hunch is that it was then - in the late 80s - that I started to give up on being consistently politically correct in favor of deeper pastoral care.
I rather like Peterson's reworking of I Corinthians 9 when he shares St. Paul's insight about this:
Even though I am free of the demands and expectations of everyone, I have voluntarily become a servant to any and all in order to reach a wide range of people: religious, nonreligious, meticulous moralists, loose-living immoralists, the defeated, the demoralized—whoever. I didn't take on their way of life. I kept my bearings in Christ—but I entered their world and tried to experience things from their point of view. I've become just about every sort of servant there is in my attempts to lead those I meet into a God-saved life. I did all this because of the Message. I didn't just want to talk about it; I wanted to be in on it!
I am still very clear that inclusive language helps more than it hinders in public worship - and can be done in either a poetic way or a heavy-handed way - so beauty trumps ideology. This brings to mind another insight of the apostle's found in Romans 12:
Love from the center of who you are; don't fake it. Run for dear life from evil; hold on for dear life to good. Be good friends who love deeply; practice playing second fiddle. Don't burn out; keep yourselves fueled and aflame. Be alert servants of the Master, cheerfully expectant. Don't quit in hard times; pray all the harder. Help needy Christians; be inventive in hospitality. Bless your enemies; no cursing under your breath. Laugh with your happy friends when they're happy; share tears when they're down. Get along with each other; don't be stuck-up. Make friends with nobodies; don't be the great somebody. Don't hit back; discover beauty in everyone. If you've got it in you, get along with everybody. Don't insist on getting even; that's not for you to do. "I'll do the judging," says God. "I'll take care of it."
Back in my Cleveland days, my spiritual director, Fr. Jim, spoke of the sacrament of confession in these terms: Just as Jesus came to show us a God we could touch (the incarnation), confession gives us a God who listens and forgives. It is a tangible symbol of God's grace. That made a world of sense to this died in the wool Protestant because it takes the pastoral moment seriously and makes grace visible. I have been blessed countless times being a father - and give thanks that I can be nourished by my heavenly Father - and Mother - and Light and Hope and Spirit, too.
I don't have too many illusions that my love is anything like God's, but it does connect me to a lover greater than myself - and gives me hope and comfort, too. (How 'bout this blast from the past?)
I have also come to value the bridgegroom/bride metaphor as a relationship with the One who is Holy. In my marriage with Dianne I have learned about failure and grace - frustration and joy - presence and hope, too. And while I believe this metaphor needs to be extended and explored given the call to gender justice, I don't want to lose it either as it has shown me something of how God is with me at my best and worst. Certainly this is true for Di - and if we are created in God's image - how much more so for the Lord? Isaiah 62:
No more will anyone call you Rejected, and your country will no more be called Ruined. You'll be called Hephzibah (My Delight), and your land Beulah (Married), Because God delights in you and your land will be like a wedding celebration. For as a young man marries his virgin bride, so your builder marries you, And as a bridegroom is happy in his bride, so your God is happy with you.
I'm not so much into the abstract metaphors as my communion with God is intimate and both cosmic and personal. What metaphors work best for you? I would be blessed to know...
In a small class I am leading for adults in my faith community, we spoke of Jesus last week. Specifically, the Jesus of incarnation - Word made Flesh - God within and among us. It was a tough class - mostly because I started with the statement: "Most times a reflection on Jesus starts with his teachings, but let me suggest that his teachings take on their deepest meaning when we start with the Cross. So, rather than explore the ethics of Jesus as a wisdom teacher, like the ancient Church, we will start to wrestle with the folly or foolishness of the Cross."St. Paul, in encouraging the community in Corinth to learn how to love and practice compassion with one another, began with the Cross, too. In I Corinthians 1 he puts it like this (using Peterson's The Message.)
I have a serious concern to bring up with you, my friends, using the authority of Jesus, our Master. I'll put it as urgently as I can: You must get along with each other. You must learn to be considerate of one another, cultivating a life in common...
God didn't send me out to collect a following for myself, but to preach the Message of what he has done, collecting a following for him. And he didn't send me to do it with a lot of fancy rhetoric of my own, lest the powerful action at the center—Christ on the Cross—be trivialized into mere words. The Message that points to Christ on the Cross seems like sheer silliness to those hellbent on destruction, but for those on the way of salvation it makes perfect sense. This is the way God works, and most powerfully as it turns out. It's written,
I'll turn conventional wisdom on its head,
I'll expose so-called experts as crackpots. So where can you find someone truly wise, truly educated, truly intelligent in this day and age? Hasn't God exposed it all as pretentious nonsense? Since the world in all its fancy wisdom never had a clue when it came to knowing God, God in his wisdom took delight in using what the world considered dumb—preaching, of all things!—to bring those who trust him into the way of salvation.
While some clamor for miraculous demonstrations and others go in for philosophical wisdom, we go right on proclaiming Christ, the Crucified. Some treat this like an anti-miracle—and others pass it off as absurd. But to us who are personally called by God himself—both Jews and Greeks and others, too—Christ is God's ultimate miracle and wisdom all wrapped up in one. Human wisdom is so tinny, so impotent, next to the seeming absurdity of God. Human strength can't begin to compete with God's "weakness."
Take a good look, friends, at who you were when you got called into this life. I don't see many of "the brightest and the best" among you, not many influential, not many from high-society families. Isn't it obvious that God deliberately chose men and women that the culture overlooks and exploits and abuses, chose these "nobodies" to expose the hollow pretensions of the "somebodies"? That makes it quite clear that none of you can get by with blowing your own horn before God. Everything that we have—right thinking and right living, a clean slate and a fresh start—comes from God by way of Jesus Christ. That's why we have the saying, "If you're going to blow a horn, blow a trumpet for God."
Three quick ideas are at work here for 21st century people of faith:
+ First, if we're going to start with the Cross, then we're also going to embrace doubt and questions as being at the heart of faith. This is not a call to a rigid doctrinaire theology but rather one that welcomes the hard questions, fears and uncertainties that come with the Cross, yes? There are many ways to talk about faithful doubt - from the Via Negativa or apophatic theology/spirituality to simple humility - but one thing is clear by starting with the Cross of Jesus: living into the questions of Thomas is an honored and respectable path that must never be shut down by uncertainty or the arrogance of orthodoxy.
+ Second, the Cross forces us to consider the "paschal mystery" that Paul affirms: namely, how God can take even what is broken and filled with death and transform it into something of living beauty. Not that all things ARE good, not at all. And not that there is an automatic equation about the Sacred will in the world. Just, that if we wait in the presence of the Cross God can take even Good Friday and transform it into Easter. Death into resurrection. Fear into trust. Obsession with self into tender compassion for others.
+ And third the Cross asks us to get out of our own way and center our prayers and hopes on God. Not that our lives are irrelevant - they are not. But if we always start with ourselves we are setting our hopes and vision too low. The Cross invites us to let God be God. We are small and often foolish - sometimes socially irrelevant and always broken - so why not embrace a spirituality that says God can work through even our small and broken lives rather than fight it? "Thy will be done..." is the starting place of this mystical path.
Increasingly, I find solace and hope in the folly of the Cross. (To be sure, I also find that the way the Cross has been used to be mean-spirited and cruel. See James Carroll's, Constantine's Sword, for a clear and damning historical analysis.) Because the Cross is yet another part of Christ's upside down kingdom where the first become last, losers find a way to win, the lost are welcomed home, the least are restored to the status of beloved, children serve as rabbis, women are no longer marginalized and the powerful practice humility with joy. It is a way of entering the mystical wisdom of Jesus. Leonard Cohen calls it the "staggering account of the Sermon on the Mount which I don't pretend to understand at all."
It is a hot, hazy day in the Berkshires - and most of my time today has been spent in church administration. William Willimon once wrote that NOBODY he knows decided to go into the work of pastoring a local congregation because they LOVED administration. It was the love of God, the presence of Christ and the inspiration of the Holy Spirit that called us into ministry - not balancing budgets, organizing committees, wrestling with the needs of repairing an ancient building while also resourcing our mission to the poor with integrity - and yet that is what a lot of us in local church ministry do, right?
Not that God's presence can't be found in the details of administration - in fact, I would argue that they must - but this isn't where our call began. My call, for example, started when I would argue with my Unitarian grandmother about "wanting to see the face of God" when I was in the fourth grade. (really!) And ripened throughout my teen years until I "heard" the Lord speak to me while sitting in The Potter's House in Washington, DC just two months after Dr. King had been gunned down. "You could do this," the voice of God seemed to be saying; that is, you could be engaged in an arts ministry that is edgy and beyond the confines of the status quo. You love music, you love artists and you love me. You could be doing this... and so it came to pass that for nearly 15 more years I tried to evade that call. And then, to paraphrase Niebuhr, after I tried to do everything else BUT ministry, I surrendered.
And what is ironic is that I felt I had to do this edgy, left-of-center ministry grounded in the arts in the local church. Not on a campus, not is a specialized setting but in the local, ordinary church where wise and foolish, young and old, rich and poor and in-between people come seeking something of Christ's love and God's grace. I remember the then president of the United Church of Christ, Paul Sherry, telling me, "You might want to consider NOT going into local church ministry, man." He was teaching my polity class at Union Theological Seminary in NYC and became a friend and mentor. He was afraid I wouldn't fit in - and in many ways he was right. But as my day-to-day mentor in urban ministry, Ray Swartzaback, used to say: "If we can't figure out how to make the way of Jesus real and valuable here in the local church, we might as well look for other work because THIS is where the rubber meets the road." I still think he was right.
So I spent the day in administration: working out the details of hiring a new music director, ferreting out the records of Sunday School classes so I can visit families during their summertime break, writing letters, touching base with leaders about budget concerns and all the rest. And here are three places where I have come to see ordinary people meeting Jesus in the local church:
+ Worship: there is nothing utilitarian about worship - and this is the front door for most folk - so it has to be honest, beautiful and faithful. Because, you see, Jesus is the only thing we have to offer the world in the local church. I know the mega-churches offer lattes and nail salons and all the rest. But we can't do entertainment better than Disney - and we can't do food better than specialty restaurants - and we can't do coffee better than Starbucks. And we shouldn't try - all we have to offer people is Jesus - his life, death and resurrection. And we can do this with prayer, music, silence as well as aesthetics, hospitality and clear and compassionate preaching and teaching.
And that's one of the reasons why I work so hard at administration: if we aren't offering people our best encounter with the Living Christ in worship we SHOULD look for other work. It matters how well our musicians play, it matters that people know how to truly welcome one another as the Lord, it matters that our worship space touches the head and the heart and that we embrace beauty as much as spiritual truth. People most often look for something of the Lord in worship, so we need to pay attention.
+ Sunday School: this is almost an anachronism but what we do with our children and families matters. How we help families deepen their children's spiritual formation matters. Nobody knows how to pray any more; nobody knows how to live into the seasons of faith; nobodies has a biblical language to describe the ups and downs of human existence. So creating a safe, engaging and faithful Sunday School is another place I believe people can meet Jesus on Sunday morning. And this means our leaders must pay attention - and learn names - and keep good records so that we can follow up and help strangers become part of the community.
Because community life is also where we meet Jesus. I don't remember who taught me this but she said, "There are two parts to the cross: the vertical connection between you and the Lord; and the horizontal connection between you and the people. You meet God in BOTH places." Especially in the Reformed tradition - so the administrative work of record keep is part of my commitment to radical hospitality - and it matters.
+ Eucharist: John Calvin argued with his church elders 500 years ago that every time the community gathered on Sunday they should celebrate the Lord's Supper. The elders won saying that given the broken Roman tradition of keeping the cup from the people for so long needed time before they were ready for weekly communion. But don't you think 500 years is enough of a wait?
So, whether my leaders get it or not - and thank God they always have - I have found a way to celebrate weekly Eucharist for nearly 30 years. Henri Nouwen was my mentor in this who found a way to navigate around the limitations of Rome when he was at Yale; he welcomed EVERYONE to the Lord's Table just as Christ Jesus would whether they were Catholic, baptized or whatever. He was humble about it, he wasn't secretive either; because he knew that in Eucharist we meet Jesus in mysterious and healing ways that cannot happen any other way.
I am willing to put the time into administration because I know it pays off in worship, Sunday School and Eucharist. It also pays off in another way of meeting Jesus, too: building trust with my lay leaders. This isn't automatic and doesn't come with the office. I wish it did - sometimes - but it doesn't and pastors need to earn trust and respect. Being faithful about adminstration helps. Hiring to address your blindspots and weakness is another good strategy. And being honest when you just don't know something is essential, too.
Once, an African American Pentecostal pastor friend said, "How come you liberal white guys don't ever act on the words of Jesus when he told his disciples to 'become friends with unrighteous mammon?'" I had to admit I didn't recall that passage in scripture and he just laughed saying, "I thought so. Look man, it is simple: learn from your business people. They KNOW how to get things done if they're any good. You should know how to get things done, too. You don't have to buy into their ethics, but let's at least be as effective as business when it comes to God's love, ok?"
Building trust with leaders, taking time to listen and pray with them, visiting their homes and asking for their wisdom in matters I don't understand is another place I have met Jesus with my lay leadership. One wise, old pastor, M. Craig Barnes, who runs the Doctor of Ministry program and Pittsburgh Theological Seminary put it like this:
Most parishioners, for example, are not unaware that we are justified before God by grace through faith. They have heard these favorite words of the church from the time they were children squirming in the pews. Few would deny the "reality" of this doctrine. But without a parish "poet" who can invite them into their own conflicted souls, where they encounter their serious doubts that this could possible be "true" given the judmental nature of life, they will never be amazed by amazing grace...
He closes that chapter with these words that ring so true for me: What if pastors... were free to work hard simply at being better poets? And is it possible that the call to parish ministry can come not at the expense of our souls, but at their delight - the joy known only by those who can behod mystery and truth at work just beneath the surface of all the belief and all the reality of parish life?
And finally there is the power of meeting Jesus in the written words of scripture - and sharing its power and wisdom with those you love and serve. Twice in the last two days as I have been wrestling with the complexites of administration - namely finding the money to hire the right person for our music ministry - two scriptures have knocked me on my ass with grace.
+ In writing Sunday's message about Matthew 13: 44-46 I came across these words from Pastor Brian Stoffregen that I literally sent out to my leadership team in awe: I wonder, have we (myself included) become so comfortable in our congregations that we no longer risk doing new, joyful and costly things because of the kingdom?” At how many council meetings has something like this been said, "We don't have the money to do that."? In contrast, I heard of a family who was so committed to a project at their congregation that they took out a second mortgage on their house to pay for half of it. YES!!! The good news, as one old timer put it, is that we have all the money we need for ministry; the bad news is that it is in our pockets!
+ And then at today's midday Eucharist, the gospel reading for the daily lectionary spoke of Jesus sleeping in the stern of a boat while the disciples flipped out in fear and worry. After a quiet time for Lectio Divino one of my leaders said, "Seems as if God's quiet assurance is always present in the midst of our storms, don't you thin, if we just look to Jesus?"
Well, I could go on and on - and have probably written waaaaaaay too much - but there are five specific ways of meeting Jesus in the local church. And I have been blessed by them all. The Saint of Vermont, Frederick Buechner, put it like this:
Grace is something you can never get but only be given. The grace of God means something like: Here is your life. You might never have been, but you are because the party wouldn't have been complete without you. Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don't be afraid. I am with you. Nothing can ever separate us. It's for you. I created the universe. I love you. There's only one catch. Like any other gift, the gift of grace can be yours only if you reach out and take it. Maybe being able to reach out and take it is a gift too. Wishful Thinking
NOTES:Here are my worship notes for Sunday, July 24, 2100 - the 17th Sunday of Ordinary Time. I am deepening my "apprentices of grace" series using Matthew 13: 44-46 and the closing verses of Romans 8. If you are in town, please join us at 10:30 am.
There is an old story told about the Prophet Mohammed, blessed be his name, who was once offering Morning Prayer at his local mosque. Among those who had gathered was a poor spiritual seeker from the desert. It seems that:
… as the Prophet read from the Quran, he recited the verse in which Pharaoh makes the claim that “I am your true God.” (Now you have to remember who Pharaoh was in order for this to make sense so…?) And when the desert peasant heard the blasphemous words of Pharaoh, he spontaneously broke the silence of prayer with his anger, shouting, “That boastful son of a bitch!” The Prophet said nothing, but after prayer was over the other began to scold the man saying, “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Surely you have displeased Allah because not only did you interrupt the holy silence of our prayers, but you used filthy language too in the presence of the Prophet.” As you might imagine, the desert wanderer began to tremble with fear when all of a sudden the angel Gabriel appeared to Mohammed and said, “Allah sends greetings to you and wishes you to tell these people to shut their mouths. Stop scolding this simple Arab because his spontaneous profanity has moved my heart more than all the holy prayers of the others combined.” The Spirituality of Imperfection, Ernest Kurtz, p. 30
Intimacy with the Lord – the kingdom of God – the teachings of Jesus and many of the sacred stories of faith all suggest that that the point is “always beyond: beyond the ordinary, beyond possession, beyond the narrow confines of self… or expectation” – beyond even spiritual propriety. (Kurtz, p. 31)
• That’s what the parables of Jesus for today sound like to me – a call beyond what is obvious – an invitation to live in such a way that we are saturated in God’s grace.
• Think about it: a dirt farmer becomes joyfully obsessed with a hidden treasure and devotes the rest of his life to it; a merchant travelling the Silk Road discovers a pearl of great value and gives up everything else to hold it?
Something beyond the obvious is taking place in these stories, yes? Too often the parables of Jesus have been domesticated – turned into middle class morality tales – when, in fact, they are funky and strange and challenging. Back in 1935, biblical scholar, C.H. Dodd defined a parable like this: A parable is "a metaphor or simile drawn from nature or common life, arresting the hearer by its vividness or strangeness, and leaving the mind in sufficient doubt about its precise application to tease it into active thought."
• Pretty good, don’t you think: the use of ordinary images in a strange way to purposefully stimulate both doubt and active thought?!?
• Sounds like that rude Arab in the mosque got it right to me because something strange and funky is taking place in these parables that points beyond conventional wisdom towards God’s grace.
And I sense that whatever Jesus is talking about in these stories can help us take another step towards living as “apprentices of grace.” That’s been my theme this summer – learning to live within the unforced rhythms of God’s grace – as apprentices. Not scholars trying to gather more arcane knowledge for publication, nor students cramming for some spiritual achievement award, but apprentices practicing the rhythms of grace until they become unforced.
Each week this month I’ve emphasized a different insight into grace: it is the way of Christ’s rest, it is how we let God be God so that we don’t have to carry all the burdens of life, it trains us to trust that there really is NO condemnation in God’s love for us no matter WHAT the television evangelists have told us and it includes you and you and you. How did Jesus put it do his disciples? “I have come so that your joy may be full? Complete? Filled to over-flowing from the inside out?”
That is what I have been trying to communicate this month: that God’s rest and joy can be fully yours. Today I want to try to give you some clues about how to receive this gift because a number of you have told me, “Ok, I get that God’s grace is a wonderful gift – but how do I accept it? Receive it? Let it come to me?”
Well, there is a long answer and a short one – and being dedicated to my craft – I’m going to give you both, ok? But here’s the short answer first …
Throw assorted hard candies to the congregation
Alright, now what did you do when I threw those candies out to you? Really, tell me clearly just what did you do?
• You spontaneously opened your hands and… received them, right? You didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about it – analyzing and fretting – or wondering what the devil was happening or whether or not you even wanted to participate in the gift giving.
• You just opened your hands – that’s part one of the short answer – and… took or caught or received the gift – that’s part two.
To receive the gift of grace – to practice being an apprentice of grace – means you have to apply the unforced rhythms of God’s loving presence to yourself just as much as you do your neighbor or those in need. And a lot of us are pretty bad at doing that: we know – and enjoy – giving and caring for others (at least most of the time) but we are pitiful at receiving love and care ourselves – and it doesn’t seem to matter whether that love and care comes from God or some of God’s people, right?
• Sometimes we feel awkward – or ashamed. Sometimes we feel undeserving – or like others need it more.
• Sometimes we’re embarrassed that we can’t fix it ourselves and really need someone else to help us out – and God knows we don’t want to appear dependent and needy. Are there other reasons we find it hard to be open and receptive to God’s love and the caring of others?
Ok, then let me give you the longer, more theological answer about how to practice opening your hands and hearts to God’s grace and it starts with two key words: rhythm and unforced. What comes to your mind when I say rhythm? How would you define it?
There is musical rhythm that includes a beat and the intensity of the layers of a song – the pulse and energy of it all – for sure. What about in nature: is there a rhythm in nature? In the seasons? Each day? In the waves – or even the wind? Do you see what I’m getting at? There is an ebb and flow to rhythm in music and nature and in life and love – and that is true for practicing grace, too.
There are ups and downs and intense and quiet times and everything in-between which suggests that sometimes you’ll get it right and other times you’ll miss it completely. Do you remember what the Apostle Paul told us about the rhythm of living into grace in a restful and trusting way? Romans 8: 26-28 says:
The Spirit of God helps us in our weakness; for sometimes we do not know how to pray as we ought, so the very Spirit of God intercedes for us with sighs too deep for human words. And God, who searches the heart, knows what is in the mind of the Spirit because the Spirit has been alive in all the faithful according to God’s will since the beginning of time. That is why we can trust that all things work together for good with those who love God and are called according to God’s purpose.
All things – not just the things we get right – or the times we are at our best; but also those times we fail – or sin – or live out of our fear or addiction or shame. There is a rhythm to grace and we have to trust it just as we trust the rhythm of the light and the darkness or the coming of the seasons. That’s the first word…
… and the second word that speaks to trusting and living into the rest and joy of God’s grace is unforced: the rhythm of grace is unforced. What does that say to you?
Once in a former rock band I worked with a drummer whom I loved – he was a great guy – but when he tried too hard he lost the beat. Now in rock and roll that’s crazy making, my friends, because without that monster back beat pushing the music forward, the song can become a train wreck real fast. So in my frustration and desire to keep the song from moving away from auto-destruct, I would stomp my cowboy boot with the big heels on the hardwood floor to reclaim the beat. And I would use my bass guitar like a club to act out the beat in pantomime. All of this made great sense to me – if the drummer could see and hear the real beat he could get back into the groove – right?
But it never worked. Apparently my agitation was contagious – and instead of helping him with all my jumping around, I made him even more nervous – and things got worse not better. And the only thing that helped was when Dianne played the beat in a gentle and unforced way on the tambourine – that was golden – it always rescued the music. Because… it was unforced – gentle – tender and respectful.
That’s what Jesus was telling us about practicing and learning to live into the rhythm of grace: he, too, will always be tender and respectful so that we come to experience the beat in an unforced way. And here’s where the parables and their strangeness might come in handy – so I want you to pay particular attention to what is funky or strange about them. That “is where you will find your window into the kingdom of God.”
So, in the story of the man who finds a buried treasure and then devotes the rest of his life to buying the field, what is strange here? Preacher, Brian Stoffregen, asks:
If discovering the treasure entitled the finder to own it, why sell everything to buy the field? And if finding the treasure did not entitle the finder to own it, why did h find it necessary to sell everything to buy the field? This story seems to illustrate not so much a man possessing a field and its treasure, but how the treasure grasped and possessed him. His only concern in life seems to be getting that treasure no matter what it might cost him.
The key here is not possessing, for God’s kingdom is a gift, but rather letting ourselves be possessed by a passion for grace. Sometimes we’re too linear, too proper, too staid and on automatic pilot. Grace pushes us to be more like the Arab in the mosque – spontaneous and alive and earthy – as we ache for a taste of grace. So I think that’s part of it: letting ourselves be wooed and swept off our feet by God’s grace – admitting/confessing we are need – so we can let the Lord be our lover.
Dare I say that this has something to do with taking a risk in a bold way? Staking your heart and soul on God’s grace without counting the cost and playing it safe? One preacher put it like this: “I wonder, have we (myself included) become so comfortable in our congregations that we no longer risk doing new, joyful and costly things because of the kingdom?”
At how many council meetings has something like this been said, "We don't have the money to do that."? In contrast, I heard of a family who was so committed to a project at their congregation that they took out a second mortgage on their house to pay for half of it.
Part of practicing opening our hearts and hands to receive grace as an apprentice means letting go so that our souls can be on fire for grace – not just being polite during worship – but on fire for grace. And that sometimes means searching for it – actively getting out of our own way and recognizing the possibilities in each moment for grace to break in.
The merchant who discovered the pearl of great price wasn’t just hanging out waiting – he was on a quest – he knew there was something beautiful out there and kept his eyes open for when it might show up.
• How often are we that alert and attentive to grace? I hear people make excuses all the time – and they are real and valid and I’ve said them myself – but they don’t help.
• Things like, “I had a really bad childhood.” Or “I’m just too tired most of the time to really care or pay attention.” Or “I did that when I was younger now it is another generation’s turn.” Or even “I am really too busy and overwhelmed right now to give much attention to God.”
Look there are a million excuses – and the unforced rhythm of grace is NOT about making your burden heavier – is that clear? I’m not talking about giving you MORE to do – or making you feel guilty – or anything else the church too often lays on us. No, what I think Jesus is after is simple: are we awake and paying attention to the multiple miracles and moments of grace that fill our everyday, ordinary walking around lives as gifts?
• What happens at work? With our children? Eating? Drinking? Waiting? Are we awake and on fire – or more like zombies?
• How does the saying go that for most of us the real question: not is there life after death but is there life for us before we die? Real life? On fire and grace-filled life?
Some of us are too easy on ourselves and make excuses about why we’re not on fire and awaken to grace. Some of us are too hard on ourselves, too, believing that we aren’t worthy or deserving. Neither leads us into the joy and rest of the unforced rhythms of grace.
So here’s what I want you to do – try the short answer again with me as a model for being an apprentice of grace – and just open your hands and receive this gift. Do it spontaneously and with joy – like a child in trust – for this is part of God’s good news for today for those who have ears to hear – and eyes to see – and hands and hearts to open…
For the longest time I was NOT a Natalie Merchant fan. It was a generational thing, but her music - like the times - didn't seem to go anywhere. It rambled and swooped and then... ended. I've changed my take on sister Natalie, however, as I've gotten more into wandering and waiting myself and now appreciate her on many levels.
Actually, I though of her music while reading this spiritual reflection by Anthony Robinson yesterday:
I love the song, "We are climbing Jacob's ladder, we are climbing Jacob's ladder . . . every rung goes higher, higher, every rung goes higher, higher." But on reading the actual story in Genesis, I noticed something. We human beings aren't the ones climbing the ladder. It is angels, messengers of God, who are ascending and descending the ladder from heaven to earth. So what?
We can get the idea that it is all about us climbing ladders, whether worldly or spiritual. Getting to the right neighborhood, the right job or school. Becoming more spiritual can be another ladder to climb. We can get the idea that by our resolute and steady climbing, we shall attain some God place. Except our story says something different. It says that God comes down to this place, to our place, wherever that place may be. And then we, with Jacob, stammer in astonished surprise, "Surely God is in this place and I did not know it." The popular author Karen Armstrong, in a recent book, urges that true religion is our human search for an ultimately unknowable God. Reading this, I thought, the gospel says something different. It says that God has come in search of us. In Jesus, God comes down the ladder to find us, even when we aren't very "spiritual," even when we are lost and on the run. Prayer I thank thee, O God, that the good news is not about my upward climb, but about your downward descent; that faith begins when we, though like Jacob lost and on the run, are found by you. Amen.
These days both Natalie and Anthony are speaking truth to my ministry...
After worship today we tried the U2 gospel version of "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" and it was sweet. 18 people showed up - and a few others will join us over the next few weeks - and they rocked it!
+ I have two lead singers - a hot and rockin' guitar man with a powerful voice - and an 11 year old girl with poise, a pure and innocent voice and a gospel sense about her that is amazing.
+ I have a few guitarists, too and a stand-up bass and we'll add congas once we nail down the voices and timing.
This "summertime gospel project" is turning into a tradition that is a whole lotta fun. I am really glad we tried it... It fits with my "being apprentices of grace" series, too - both in subject and practice - as we are young and old and in-between, gay and straight, male and female and all the rest. And there really IS a place for everyone in this choir.
Joan Chittister once wrote: Everything in life, contrary to Madison Avenue's guarantees, can't be cured or resolved or eliminated. Some things must simply be endured. Some things must simply be borne. Some things must simply be accepted. Community... enables us to do that - community is meant to hold us up on the days when we're very, very down...
She concludes noting that in her community: ... all ages live side by side, the young with the old, the well with the infirm and each learns from the other. The elder learn from the young that life goes on, that creation keeps creating. The young learn from the elderly that life is about more than titles and careers, that someday we shall each be only what we are and no more. Then, we will all look back on our relationships with God, with our selves and with others as the only lasting mark of our humanity.
Today is a STUNNING day in the Berkshires: no humidity, bright sunshine and warm but not hot breezes. What's more, my morning was spent in a prayerful conversation about crafting an "Open and Affirming" statement for our faith community. For those who don't know, ONA is a part of a commitment by the United Church of Christ to practice radical hospitality and extravagant welcome to all of God's people - especially those within the LGBTQ realm - who have historically been punished and locked out of full participation in the Body of Christ. Since 1985, the United Church has been exploring ways of making the promise of equality in Christ Jesus a fact of life.
Our "discernment team" - a doctor, a bookkeeper, an engineer, a social worker and a consultant who helps hospitals and doctors implement "best practices" - met with me for three hours. After 90 minutes of careful and clear questions and conversation, we came up with the following statement:
As an Open and Affirming community following the teachings of Jesus, we embrace the diversity of God's creation. We welcome people of all sexual orientation, gender identity, family structure, race and abilities. All are invited to participate fully in the worship and ministry of First Church.
It is is simple and true - it is inclusive and deep - it fits with our sense of calling at this moment in time. It also advances a spirituality that encourages us to become our best selves in Christ's grace, too. Our process from here is simple: a) we will let this statement take root within the discernment team over the next seven days and offer additions and/or corrections as the Spirit sees fit; b) we will share the completed statement with our Council - lay leaders of the congregation - for conversation and support in August; 3) we will hold a congregational meeting in September to secure their endorsement - and then follow it up with an "implementation" retreat later that month.
Interestingly, everyone at today's gathering sensed that at the retreat we want to unpack key ways to make our ONA words flesh within and among us. We also want to work harder at finding other ways to practice Christ's radical hospitality. Within my soul, it was a day of blessing upon blessing. Made me think of this...
Today we took a windy, backroad trip to Hartford, CT to visit the Wadworth Atheneum. It is the oldest public art gallery in the US. (check it out: http://www.thewadsworth.org/) There are a number of impressive landscapes from the Hudson River School, the Amistad Center - an art foundation dedicated to the interpretation and celebration of African American art - as well some hot contemporary artists, too. One of my favorites is "Garden of Music" by Bob Thompson...
Afterwards, we wandered our way back North to NoHo - the People's Republic of Northampton for the uninitiated - for dinner with our daughter at a HOT Thai place. On the way, we ventured into my favorite local used bookstore, The Raven, where I found a copy of a book exploring the musical, cultural and spiritual roots of Coltrane's masterpiece, A Love Supreme. It was great to see Michal and catch up with her world - and share some great food, too.
Tomorrow our Open and Affirming team meets to craft a statement of welcome to our LGBTQ sisters and brothers - as well as others who have been excluded by the church - at a morning retreat. We have been prayerful and deliberate, open and tender and are now ready to listen for God's spirit as we seek to articulate our commitment to Christ's radical hospitality. I am grateful for such a sweet day of renewal and a time of retreat with some dedicated people of compassion. Coltrane considered Psalm 4 for his sweet work and I am thinking of it too as the day comes to a close...
When I call, give me answers. God, take my side! Once, in a tight place, you gave me room; now I'm in trouble again: grace me! hear me!
You rabble—how long do I put up with your scorn?
How long will you lust after lies?
How long will you live crazed by illusion?
Look at this: look
Who got picked by God!
He listens the split second I call to him.
Complain if you must, but don't lash out.
Keep your mouth shut, and let your heart do the talking.
Build your case before God and wait for his verdict.
Why is everyone hungry for more? "More, more," they say.
"More, more." I have God's more-than-enough,
More joy in one ordinary day
Than they get in all their shopping sprees.
At day's end I'm ready for sound sleep,
For you, God, have put my life back together.
Ok, I've only been in the Berkshires for three years, but for the past two summers we've tried a community gospel song where EVERYONE is invited to be a part of the choir: young, old, tall, short, hot, cool and everybody in-between. The first year we tried it we used "I'll Fly Away" and that was hot. Last year we did "Down to the River to Pray" and THAT was pretty smokin', too. Well, this year, I'm thinking we need to go for a stretch: we have MORE guitar players in worship than ever before and a TON of new voices. So...
I'm thinking the time has come to give the gospel version of U2's "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Searchin' For" a shot.
I'm not saying we'll nail it like this - but we've got a WHOLE lotta soul - so why not do a Berkshire version?
This is pretty cool. It comes from Steve Collins @ http://everydayliturgy.com/what-does-your-church-look-like/ It also jives with the conversation we had last night at Church Council - a full 60 minute serious conversation - about the practice and theology of church renewal. It was a beautiful experience. This little charts speaks to one of the ways we are shifting towards a new/old spirituality. Here the heart of the local church might be broken down into two types: #1: church as weekly service: + focus on events + seven-day cycle + regular, predictable—suits business and industry + emphasis on knowledge and self-improvement + tries to fit irregular events and seasons into 7-day grid (nearest Sunday to…) + historical seasons and festivals become sermon subjects
#2 church as rhythm of life: + a focus on community + annual cycle + irregular, seasonal—reflecting history and nature + emphasis on life as a journey through spiritual seasons + special days and seasons overrule the 7-day grid + seasons and festivals given different forms of expression (pilgrimages, parties, vigils, discussions, etc.) As one of my friends said when I shared this with him: “#1 is boring - I think so, too.
One of the things I am learning after nearly 30 years of doing pastoral ministry is the value of just showing up. Mostly I don't have a lot of answers, right? I have experience and a bit of wisdom from time to time, but I really don't have many solutions to the problems people share with me. But I do have time to listen - listen carefully and compassionately - and I can pray... so more and more that is what seems to matter the most.
Call it a ministry of presence, a commitment to showing up and being fully present to another or even the care of the soul within a local congregation: it matters. My old mentor, Ray Swartzback, used to say you need to spend an hour out in your community for every hour you spend on writing your sermon. For me that works out to about 6-8 hours of inter-action outside of the church each week in homes, having tea, walking, listening, sharing lunch or just showing up.
Henri Nouwen, in one of my favorite little books called The Way of the Heart, writes:
Our society is not a community radiant with the love of Christ, but a dangerous network of domination and manipulation in which we can easily get entangled and lose our soul. The basic question is whether we ministers of Jesus Christ have not already been so deeply molded by the seductive powers of our dark world that we have become blind to our own and other people's fatal state and have lost the power and motivation to swimfor our lives.
(Unlike the desert fathers and mothers) a look at our daily routine (will tell a chilling story.) In general we are very busy people. We have many meetings to attend, many visits to make, many services to lead. Our calendars are filled with appointments, our days and weeks are filled with engagements and our years are filled with plans and projects. There is seldom a period in which we do not know what to do and we move through life in such a distracted way that we do not even take the time and rest to wonder if any of the things we think, say or do are WORTH thinking, saying or doing... all this is simply to suggest how horrendously secular our ministerial lives tend to be.
Nouwen wrote these words in 1981 - I've been reading them over and again for 30 years - and only now am I trying to embrace their wisdom and worth. At today's midday Eucharist, our lectio divina led one woman to observe that while we are called to attend to the challenges of the day, we can also leave the rest to God and in this let go of our burdens. I was blessed by her insight - so were the others who sat around the Lord's table - and all because we took time to show up and sit in the quiet love of the Word. After Eucharist, two others took time to tell me of some of the challenges and blessings in their lives and asked for my prayers.
What a tender privilege and sacred obligation to share their prayers with the Living God. What BETTER use of my time could there be? Graham Standish once noted that the reason most declining and dying churches ARE declining and dying is because "they have become too focused on what their (existing) members want." So listening and being with members AND the wider community is one antidote to this trap - especially if it is coupled with "allowing time for prayerful discernment with a an emphasis on listening for God's voice." (Becoming a Blessed Church.)
Eugene Peterson took it one step deeper when he wrote this in The Contemplative Pastor:
American religion is conspicuous for its messianically pretentious energy, its embarrassingly banal prose and its impatiently hustling ambition. None of these marks is remotely biblical. Not is faintly in evidence in the gospel story. All of them are thoroughly documented diseases of the spirit. Pastors are in great danger of being undetected carriers of the the very disease we are charged to diagnose and heal.
It has been a beautiful for there is GREAT blessing for ALL of us in just showing up in quiet and careful prayer, yes?
.jpg)
