Going theological on a 250 year tradition...

NOTE:  I am working on a theological reflection for my church council (and others) that I hope will be completed by next Monday's meeting. I am not entirely certain if there was one inspiration for this essay; more likely it was the constellation of our 250th anniversary, the awarding of the sabbatical grant, reading both Sabbath as Resistance and Slow Church (at the same time) and my current series on reclaiming the Sabbath in the 21st century. Whatever the spark, it is clear to me that doing ministry in the same place for 250 years is significant. Here's my first take - and I'll keep working at it over the next few days. Thoughts?

Thoughts on Two Hundred Fifty Years of Ministry in the Same Place:  Sabbaticals, Labyrinths, Jazz and So Much More at First Church, Pittsfield

Introduction

We are being called by God to go deeper – and our past is a clue to our future. Perhaps it is the significance of our doing ministry in the same place for over two hundred and fifty years that is ripening within me. It could be something more cosmic.  Joni Mitchell once wrote, “Maybe it’s the time of year, or maybe it’s the time of man… but we are star dust – billion year old carbon – we are golden – and caught up in the devil’s bargain – so we’ve got to get ourselves back to the Garden.” And it might have something to do with preparing for my jazz sabbatical. Whatever the inspiration, I am increasingly drawn to the wisdom of the unknown preacher in the New Testament book of Hebrews. 

As he or she was profoundly aware, those famous and ordinary “saints” from our collective past have constructed a foundation for us to build on as we struggle into the future. They knew that it is was God’s grace that grounded their faith community in hope. They accepted the sins from their past that cried out for repentance in the present. And they trusted that God would reveal ever greater blessings upon their current ministries if they labored towards renewal.  From my vantage point in the 21^st century, what was once true in the ancient words, now rings true again:

Since, therefore, we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God… Let mutual love continue. Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it. Remember those who are in prison, as though you were in prison with them; those who are being tortured, as though you yourselves were being tortured. Let marriage be held in honor by all, and let the marriage bed be kept undefiled… Keep your lives free from the love of money, and be content with what you have; for he has said, ‘I will never leave you or forsake you.’ So we can say with confidence: ‘The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid.
What can anyone do to me?” (Hebrews 12/13)

In our 250^th year of ministry, we, like our forbearers, continue to wrestle with what being faithful to Christ means in our context. Sometimes our ancestors grasped the radical grace of the Lord’s incarnation and called for – and created – blessings of healing like the first hospice in the region. At other times, they were so acculturated that they only strengthened segregation and race hatred rather than weaken its poison within us as the birth of Second Congregational Church documents. Whether broken or whole, however, our calling among the churches in Pittsfield has always been unique. As the first congregation in this community, we became the symbolic embodiment of what Christianity means for our realm – and this fact continues to hold relevance for us in 2014.

We sit at the geographic center of our city.  We once guided many of the civic and economic decisions that formed the people, culture, architecture and soul of this region. And while our prominence and power has been significantly diminished over the past 50 years, because of our iconic status, we still have a sacred role to play in Pittsfield’s renewal. 

In fact, I would argue that our own inner spiritual and programmatic revitalization as a faith community is inextricably linked to our greater good of the whole community. In the most profound way, it is becoming clear to me that we have been invited by God – and that great cloud of witnesses who have shaped our past – to embrace the leadership of a servant.  Our work is now to be grounded in sharing and solidarity for we are being asked to become partners in reconciliation.

St Paul put it like this in I Corinthians 13:  When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways. Now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love… And then he clearly identifies how a loving servant leader lives for the glory of God: patiently. Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth, it bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

From my vantage point of serving God in community as the 19^th pastor in 250 years of ministry at First Church, these things are becoming clearer:  in our childhood, we served the Lord in one way; now we must serve in another. Once we held power and prestige, now we hold wisdom and hope. Once we could act independently and without cause for consultation, but now we must become agents of reconciliation and trust, true partners with all people of good will in Pittsfield. Now we have put away childish things (as best we understand them) and seek to serve our city in patient love.

Insights

Already I recognize aspects of this sacred invitation taking shape and form. Our commitment to become and Open and Affirming congregation did not seem particularly prophetic or bold when it was unanimously affirmed by the congregation.  But seen through the lens of our symbolic purpose – the significance of who we have been, where we are located and the legacy of that great cloud of witnesses from our past – this act of radical hospitality has reverberated well beyond the walls of our Sanctuary.  As one of the directors of the Live Out Loud Youth Project told me recently, “You have created a safe space for vulnerable children in this region – and while they may never come to church on Sunday – they know that they can now trust you and the people of First Church – and that is a life-saving gift to this community.”

I sense the same type of solidarity in our partnership with both Habitat for Humanity and BEAT (Berkshire Environmental Action Team.) We have joined their mission as equals in the struggle for justice and compassion just as Christ became an equal in the flesh with us (John 1.) Working together as mission partners, they set the agenda – and we strive to trust the Spirit. Clearly those on the ground know better than we what the real pain in the streets is all about. So, as partners in reconciliation, we join and learn and act in cooperation.

But the calling into our ministry of servant partnership is not limited to external mission: it has implications and value for our stewardship of our Sanctuary, the way we invite the wider community into our space, the way we make decisions together and the way we raise resources for ministry. As the authors of Slow Church: Cultivating Community in the Patient Way of Jesus write: “ours is a call for intentionality, an awareness of our mutual interdependence with all people and all creation, and an attentiveness to the world around us and the work God is doing in our very own neighborhoods... (Where we wrestle with) issues of justice, manageable scale, diversity, seasonality (relating to both the liturgical calendar and the life and death of individual faith communities), pleasure, beauty, risk, place, time, common space and shared traditions.” (C. Christopher Smith and John Pattison, p. 16)

In 2014, I see seven (a profoundly biblical number) key commitments currently taking shape at First Church – and they are all born of our shared vision for servant leadership.  I should note that living into the vision of servant leadership is one of the ways we allow ourselves to be molded into the image of our God. Theologians both ancient and contemporary have struggled to name some of the Lord’s characteristics; and without being exhaustive, they have all agreed that:

·        First, God is patient. “It is no accident that the first characteristic of love that Paul mentions in I Corinthians 13 is patience… (Indeed) the biblical story is often framed through the lens of the patience of God.” (Slow Church, p. 24) It could be in the parables of Jesus where God’s presence is likened to yeast slowly rising in a loaf of bread (Mt. 13) or in a careful reading of Christ’s genealogy that links Jesus to Abraham and/or Adam, the steadfast love of the Lord endures forever. “The history of the church is marked by many of the same characteristics as the history of Israel: lots of human rebellion, scattered pockets of human faithfulness and all the while God’s deep and unwavering patience.” (p. 25)

·        Second, God seeks collaboration and partnership with the faithful.  We are intimately involved in acts of reconciliation – healing and hope are not the by-products of automatons – but rather a sacred dance in which grace embraces human reality and leads us towards integrity, repentance, renewal and joy. It is hard work – and the holy story is filled with God’s frustration. But over and over God extends forgiveness and a fresh start to those who are humbled. “God is thus revealed as omnipotent precisely in the fact that God stakes everything on the intelligence, free will and trust of human beings… God attains the goal desired because in this world joy in God’s story is stronger than all inertia and greed, so that this joy continually seized people and gathers them together as the people of God.” (p. 27) Small wonder “process theologians” speak of human beings, both individual and together, as being “lured into faithfulness by the patient presence of God’s joy.”

·        And third, God gives birth to shalom.  Sometimes this means peace, but in a way that is greater than the absence of violence. God’s shalom has to do with right relationships between people. Walter Brueggemann speaks of God’s shalom as “finding out what belongs to another and returning it.” Sometimes this is land, other times it is dignity, often it is hope and almost universally it involves forgiveness.  God’s character inspires reconciliation between individuals and the Lord, between insiders and outsiders, between friends and enemies.

When we began our journey towards renewal seven years ago, we trusted by faith that God wasn’t finished with us as a community. We didn’t know what that meant because it was unknowable before starting the journey; we simply trusted that God had been faithful to our great cloud of witnesses before and would continue being faithful.  Patiently and carefully, listening to one another and sharing prayer, tears and laughter, we began to discern a path into both renewal and reconciliation. 

Interestingly, while a great deal of our work began within the walls of our church, the greater good was always a part of the picture.  Our mission statement makes that clear:  “In com-munity with God and each other, we gather to worship, to reflect on our Christian faith, to do justice and to share compassion.” There was balance in this new direction. It was grounded in tradition, but was not solely focused on saving the institution. And so we worked at revitalizing both our worship and our outward missions. We found creative and playful ways to care for the wider community that simultaneously attracted new artists and friends into our experiment while celebrating the beauty of God’s love in action. We emphasized gratitude rather than obligation or judgment. We took theology seriously – and prayed with a fear and trembling. And slowly, patiently and quietly a new/old way of being First Church started to take shape. It honors that great cloud of witnesses while charting new ground as leaders learn more about living with a servant's heart. 

(What follows - and is still to be written - will address seven key commitments that are becoming flesh within and among us as we more deeply embrace the charism of servant leadership.)

Rock and soul keeps me up too late...

I have been too excited to sleep tonight because the new incarnation of the band is very satisfying. We mostly worked on vocals tonight - and figured out a few forms - for the August 17th gig.  And when you put the new/old line up of the band in concert with our guests...! It will be in-freakin-credible. The three women's voices are so close in sound quality and at the same time have a distinctive timbre, too. In this they are the New England equivalent of the Wailin' Jennys - and we'll be closing the first "wooden music" set with "One Voice." But that's not all during the first set: we'll do a little Indigo Girls to kick it off, add some Pete Seeger sing-a-long songs (after all this IS a fund raiser for the Berkshire Environmental Action Team), tip our hat in honor of the 45th anniversary of Woodstock with CS&Y's "Helplessly Hoping" followed by Eva Cassidy's take on Joni Mitchell's anthem "Woodstock" and fill things out with some Herbie Hancock, Paul Simon and a soulful acoustic take on Dusty Springfield's "Son of a Preacher Man" by our guest and friend, Rebecca Leigh.  I even think there will be a little bit of Mose Allison along with some tunes from our other guests Linda Worster and Weez McCarty, too. (They are both local singer/songwriter performing artists in the Berkshires)
The way I figure it, the first "wooden music set" will take about 60 minutes. There will be a little break, a pitch to raise funds for BEAT and then back for another set of "electric rock and soul." Now I was blown away tonight when I found out that in addition to the others songs, we're going to close the show out with Rebecca's take on Janis Joplin's "Piece of My Heart." That has been one of my ALL TIME FAVORITE songs and it fits the groove just right. 
Other songs in the electric set include originals by Linda Worster, "Jesus Just Left Chicago" by ZZ Top, "Born on the Bayou" by Creedence, "Feelin' Alright" by Joe Cocker, "Long Train Running" by the Doobie Brothers, a little "Blue Monk" by one of our young players, Ethan Wesley" and another killer 60s essential:  Les McCann's "Compared to What." One of the REAL joys of this show is that in addition to my friends and musical colleagues Andy Kelly and Jon Haddad, one of the regions true master's of the woodwinds, Charlie Tokarz, will be in the house. And Mr. Tokarz transforms everything he touches. He is musical gold - and it is privilege that he'll make this benefit on a Sunday afternoon.
This show will be a total gas.  Here's the church band line up:  Dianne De Mott, Elizabeth McCarty, Eva Perri and Jon Grenoble on vocals, Brian Staubach on vocals, guitar and congas, Dave McDermott on guitars and vocals, the MAESTRO himself - Cartlon Maaia II - on keyboards and vocals, and myself on upright and electric bass and acoustic guitar and vocals. If you love music and care for the environment - if you are curious just how GOOD a church band can really sound - and if you want to see how rock and soul works in a sweet old neo-gothic cathedral-like sanctuary: come on down to First Church on Park Square (27 East Street, Pittsfield, MA) on Sunday, August 17th at 3 pm.

Worship notes: sabbath as resistance because life is too precious to waste...

NOTE:  Here are my worship notes for Sunday, August 10, 2014. They are part five of a worship series grounded in Walter Brueggemann's book, Sabbath as Resistance: Saying NO to the Culture of NOW.

Introduction

I am a very slow learner, perhaps you are, too – especially when it comes to

the ways of the Lord.  Like the people of Israel in the Old Testament, or the first disciples of Jesus in the New Testament, I seem to listen to the words of God but fail to embed them in my ordinary actions.  The authors of a book I am reading entitled, Slow Church: Cultivating Community in the Patient Way of Jesus, put it like this: The history of the church is marked by many of the same characteristics as the history of Israel: lots of human rebellion, scattered pockets of human faithfulness and all the while God’s deep and unwavering patience.

In my head I know that the steadfast love of the Lord offers me a better way than many of my old habits – and I believe in my heart that the unforced rhythms of grace are superior to the frantic restlessness of our culture – and yet it takes me a long, long time to put God’s wisdom into practice. Back when my daughters were considerably younger – in their early teens – I remember one Sunday after church when three things were supposed to happen in our lives all at about the same time: one girl had to get to a music rehearsal, the other had to be taken to her dance lesson and I had to make an appearance at some public event because I was the Vice President of the Cleveland Board of Education and I was up for re-election.

+  I knew we were going to be tight for time, but if we all hustled – and ate lunch in the car – I thought we could make it all happen.  So, right after worship, without pausing for coffee hour, we jumped in the mini-van and raced off to our respective post-Sabbath commitments.  I made a bee line for the drive-through window of Taco Bell, ordered three 7 layer burritos and some diet cokes – and we were off.

+  Now back in those days, especially for campaign appearances, I dressed in sharp double-breasted suits with heavily starched white shirts and exotic Jerry Garcia ties. The girls were now in the backseats discretely changing from their Sunday dresses into jeans and sweatshirts as I drove through downtown Cleveland searching for the first drop off – all the while trying to eat my 7 layer burrito.

Have you ever eaten a 7 layer burrito? They are tricky – and messy – even without driving through downtown traffic – even without feeling the pressure of being a political candidate in a racially polarized city – even without two teen-age daughters needing to get to events on opposite sides of town.

+  Remember this is back in the days before GPS. So in addition to everything else, I’ve got three crumbled sheets of paper more or less in my hand with addresses written on them and I’m driving, eating and asking the girls to double-check things in the road atlas.

+ And they are doing a remarkable job of keeping it all together… when out of nowhere some knuckle-head decides to hot foot it through a yellow light and pulls out dangerously close to my mini-van.  See where this is going?

+ Immediately, I slammed on the brakes, toss the addresses in the air, grip the steering wheel tightly with one hand, automatically thrust my other hand out in a protective parental gesture for my daughter sitting in the front seat – and squeeze my 7 layer burrito with a frenzied terror.

 It all happened in the blink of an eye, but now there’s sour cream all over the dashboard and some kind of slimy faux guacamole all over the front of my heavily starched white shirt. I was NOT a happy daddy at that moment: so after pulling over to the side of the street and making sure everyone was ok – and trying to clean the green slime mess off my shirt – we headed back out and eventually got the girls to their respective appointments.

Suffice it to say that I missed my campaign appearance that day, but began to learn an important lesson about the Lord’s Sabbath:  namely that we have been given the Sabbath to help us practice slowing down, paying attention to what really matters and caring for those around us with the patient grace that the Lord cares for us.

+  You see, the Sabbath is not just about our rest: it is also a living prayer intended to help us live more attentive, compassionate lives. It is a spiritual discipline designed to help us become more Christ-like, more patient, more loving during the other six days of the week. And if that isn’t happening, then we are not practicing Sabbath as the Lord intended.

+ So what I want to do this morning is:  a) summarize what we’ve considered so far about the meaning of Sabbath-keeping; and then b) listen to what Israel’s prophets have to teach us about honoring the Lord’s Sabbath, ok?

So let me ask you to pray with me so that our hearts and minds might be centered on God’s wisdom:  Lord, please guide the words of my mouth now so that our thoughts are grounded in your grace; for we pray through the love of our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

Insights

To start off, let’s talk about what we’ve considered from both scripture and the insights of Walter Brueggemann in his book: Sabbath as Resistance – saying NO to the culture of NOW. So far we’ve explored three broad themes about the Sabbath:

     First there is the understanding from the book of Exodus that keeping the Sabbath helps us become like God – patient, loving and well-rested – because after all of creation was brought into being from out of the chaos, what did the Lord do?  God rested.  Exodus 20 tells us: Remember the Sabbath day, and keep it holy. For six days you shall labor and do all your work. But the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God; you shall not do any work—you, your son or your daughter, your male or female slave, your livestock, or the alien resident in your towns. For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but rested the seventh day; therefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day and consecrated it. According to the Exodus tradition, rest and abundance is built into the very fabric of creation. So not only is ours a God who rests, but ours is a God who offers a clear alternative to the restlessness of serving other gods.

     Second is the awareness taken from Deuteronomy that offers us a deeper and ethical interpretation of the Exodus tradition:  we are to keep Sabbath because the Lord liberated our ancestors from slavery – set them free – so that they might rest in freedom. Deuteronomy 5 is clear:  Observe the Sabbath day and keep it holy, as the Lord your God commanded you.³For six days you shall labor and do all your work. But the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God; you shall not do any work—you, or your son or your daughter, or your male or female slave, or your ox or your donkey, or any of your livestock, or the resident alien in your towns, so that your male and female slave may rest as well as you. Remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt, and the Lord your God brought you out from there with 

     a  mighty hand and an outstretched arm; therefore the Lord your God commanded you to keep the Sabbath day. Do you hear that distinction?  We honor the Sabbath as the Lord commanded because ours is the God who sets people free.  Here Sabbath keeping is about social justice and compassion.

·   And third is the prophetic reinterpretation of covenant offered by the prophet Isaiah:  600 years before Jesus, when Israel was set free from 70 years of bondage in Babylon, the people who returned from exile to rebuild Jerusalem were told that God’s Sabbath embrace must now include ALL the people. Isaiah 56 says:  Blessed are those who keep the Sabbath – who welcome the foreigners as kin and the physically broken and deformed as family – because now they are all my people. The foreigners who join themselves to the Lord, to minister to him, to love the name of the Lord and to be his servants, who keep the Sabbath, and do not profane it and hold fast my covenant— these I will bring to my holy mountain and make them joyful in my house of prayer; their burnt-offerings and their sacrifices will be accepted on my altar so that my house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples. Thus says the Lord God, who gathers in the outcasts of Israel: I will gather others to them besides those already among you. That’s the shift we talked about last week – and it is fascinating – because now keeping covenant with the Lord is about sharing the rest of social justice with all types of people – not just those we know and are like us – but all types of people.

That’s the summary thus far:  any thoughts or questions you want to lift up before I move into the next insight? Anyone been thinking about all of this and want to share your reflection or what you have been doing to explore Sabbath rest?

Today’s texts ask us to continue to go deeper into Sabbath-keeping by now paying attention to what Israel’s prophets learned from the Holy Spirit about Sabbath. You see, the prophets were people God raised up to help correct the sins and mistakes Israel made over time as they lost focus – or fervor – or perspective. Like me – or you – or the church throughout the ages, there were times when Israel got it right and times when they blew it. Like I said earlier: The history of God’s people is surprisingly similar whether it is Israel or the Church: lots of human rebellion, scattered pockets of human faithfulness and all the while God’s deep and unwavering patience.

And it seems that over and over Israel would play games with the Sabbath: they forgot that the Sabbath was about freedom and social justice, they mixed up their observance of the Sabbath with the way other religions celebrated God, they lost track of the fact that Sabbath refreshment was intended to change our ethics during the other six days of the week, and they sometimes turned their Sabbath into a show of pomp and conspicuous consumption. Walter Brueggemann says that during the reign of King Solomon this became increasingly the norm. He writes that “Solomon’s grandiose temple was a commodity enterprise, marked by endless amounts of gold, all designed to impress.” Here is how I Kings in the Old Testament describes the Temple in Jerusalem under Solomon’s leadership:

The interior of the inner sanctuary was twenty cubits long, twenty cubits wide, and twenty cubits high; he overlaid it with pure gold. He also overlaid the altar with cedar. Solomon overlaid the inside of the house with pure gold, then he drew chains of gold across, in front of the inner sanctuary, and overlaid it with gold. Next he overlaid the whole house with gold, in order that the whole house might be perfect; even the whole altar that belonged to the inner sanctuary he overlaid with gold… So Solomon made all the vessels that were in the house of the Lord: the golden altar, the golden table for the bread of the Presence, the lamp stands of pure gold, five on the south side and five on the north, in front of the inner sanctuary; the flowers, the lamps, and the tongs, of gold; the cups, snuffers, basins, dishes for incense, and fire pans, of pure gold; the sockets for the doors of the innermost part of the house, the most holy place, and for the doors of the nave of the temple, of gold. (I Kings 6: 20-21/7: 48-50)

And just to make certain we don’t miss the point, Brueggemann reminds us

that in addition to the conspicuous consumption embedded in Solomon’s temple, the good king of Israel was also known to accumulate women like trinkets or exotic possessions: “…his wives and concubines had become commodities for the king as either trophy mates or instruments of foreign policy.” (p. 60)

+  Now let’s be clear about the symbolism of the king: the chief of state is an icon of a nation’s deepest values and commitments.  This is true in poetic and psychological archetypes as well as mythology and human history. The king or queen represents the values and health of a society.

+  And what the prophets of Israel tell us is that Solomon’s values no longer looked like God’s Sabbath of freedom, rest and social equality. The prophet Isaiah tells us in the very first chapter that Israel’s practice of Sabbath keeping had become an abomination to the Lord.

Your new moon and Sabbath keeping, your calling of convocation—I cannot endure these solemn assemblies with iniquity. Your new moons and your appointed festivals and Sabbaths my soul hates; they have become a burden to me, I am weary of bearing them. So when you stretch out your hands, I will hide my eyes from you; even though you make many prayers, I will not listen; your hands are full of blood.  Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean…Cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan and plead for the widow. 

Are you with me?  The prophet is saying: quit PLAYING at Sabbath and make it happen in your ordinary lives so that the freedom I once gave to you, YOU also give to others! Live like Exodus people - freedom people - God's special people who have experienced love. Otherwise, the Lord our God will hate our Sabbaths and feasts. And the prophet Amos pushes God’s hatred of phony and vulgar Sabbath-keeping even further.  Amos said that all too often there were too many people going to Sabbath worship who were only thinking about what they were going to do when it got over.  And what really broke the Lord’s heart and made God furious is that all too many attending the pomp and circumstance of the Sabbath were just thinking about what they would buy and sell when worship was over:

Hear this, you that trample on the needy and bring to ruin the poor of the land, saying, ‘When will the new moon be over so that we may sell grain; and the Sabbath so that we may offer wheat for sale? I will turn your feasts into mourning and all your songs into lamentation; I will bring sackcloth on all loins and baldness on every head… (What’s more) The time is surely coming, says the Lord God, when I will send a famine on the land; but not a famine of bread, or a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the Lord.

Conclusion

Professor Brueggemann suggests that there are two take-a-ways from this

insight from the prophets about Sabbath-keeping.

     + One is a warning about multi-tasking: it never produces anything good. What’s more, we really can’t do two or three things at once and give our full attention to those we love, right? In an already too busy age, the time has come to put our smart phones away sometimes, quit trying to squeeze meals into the car on the way to someplace else, turn off the electronic devices from time to time and unplug.  That’s the easy one.

·           

     +  The second challenge cuts to the core of the way we live: it asks us to promise the Lord our God that we will get enough rest and true worship so that WE can share compassion and justice with others during the remaining six days of the week.  You’ll note that in the gospel for today, after hearing the heart breaking news that his mentor and cousin, John the Baptist, had been executed by King Herod, Jesus withdrew from his ministry for a time and went to a deserted place to be by himself. He went to rest. He went to pray. He went to grieve and think and take time away from the busyness so that he might return with love and patience and compassion.

Without deep rest, we can’t live the Jesus life – Jesus couldn’t and neither can we. In many ways our obsession with multi-tasking keeps us distracted from what we really need. In all too many ways, our bottom-line commitments turn our lives into a scramble to buy more things, own more things and do more things so that “we become commodities to one another.”

+ Life is too short, beloved, too short and too precious. Just this week my dear friend from Canada buried his youngest daughter who was only 30+ years old.  The same day one of Dianne’s colleagues at Jo Ann’s Fabrics learned that her son had been killed in that motorcycle accident in Hinsdale. He was only 24.

+ Life is too short and too precious and too fragile for us to waste and fritter away on things that don’t matter.

“The Sabbath command is an urgent summons to break the pattern of a divided hear… before it is too late.” Please, please let's not take too long to learn this lesson.  May your ears be opened to hear the world of the Lord.

credits:

1) writetojoncook.me

2) preciouswomenofworth.blogspot.com

3) Moses by Rae Chiclinsky @ http://www.artpal.com/raechichi

4) stmarks.com.au

5) www.thebettermom.com

6) www.reason4smile.com

7) www.bible-reflections.net

Most of the time we really don't know...

Most of the time in ministry, we just don't know... we don't know why most of the people show up on any given week and why others stay away or even disappear. We don't know when the words we have worked so hard to refine will strike something deep in a person's heart or when those same words will be totally misheard - or worse. We don't know when a song will evoke a tear nor do we know why that same song will cause another to shut down. We don't know when God is in the house and we certainly don't know what will communicate something of God's grace for the 80+ people in worship aged 4-95. I'm not fooling: most of the time we just don't know.

That is why on any given Sunday, we act by faith. The unknown preacher in the book of Hebrews puts it like this: Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Indeed, by faith our ancestors received approval. By faith we understand that the worlds were prepared by the word of God, so that what is seen was made from things that are not visible. Or as my man St. Paul likes to tell us: Now we see as through a glass darkly, later we shall see face to face.

Of the preachers and teachers out there who read these postings, how many

times have you shared a message with a congregation that you considered a disaster - a total dog - that was not only incoherent, but also so disconnected from grace and reality that you were embarrassed to know that those words fell out of your face?  Only to be told afterwards - sometimes months afterwards - oh Pastor your words today (or whenever) really spoke to my heart: you helped me more than you'll ever know. (That's for damn sure, I think to myself, because no matter how hard I try, I will never know.) But I've heard those words spoken tenderly, honestly and sincerely from good hearted people so many times that all I can say is  mostly I don't know. I act by faith in the assurance that God is in control because I am not. (Same thing happens btw when I've thought I really nailed a Sunday morning message - I was certain that my preparation was deep, my prose on fire and my connections to real life were stunning - only to have half the folk nod off half way through! Like I said, I mostly don't know.)

Earlier today I got a message from a colleague who told me how grateful her guest was after being in worship with us. I was stunned.  Blessed, but really knocked on my butt, because what was most moving for this soul was the way our people shared the "Peace of Christ." They spoke with love and authenticity. They looked one another in the eye and searched for the face of the Lord. And they were so engaged... 

I was humbled. Speechless. And as I returned thanks to God I found myself saying: wow, I REALLY don't know most of the time. And that's probably the way it is supposed to be."Let mutual love continue. Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it."

Misunderstood but engaged...

As pastor/preacher/teacher, I am often stunned by what people hear me saying on Sunday morning. I am equally baffled by some of the conclusions they reach. I've experienced it long enough to know it is beyond my control, but still I find myself shaking my head in wonderment.

+ In my current series re: Sabbath keeping, I can't tell you how many people have said to me they are truly too busy to keep the Sabbath in any real way, shape or form. And this doesn't include those folk who are genuinely too busy to come to worship on Sunday.

+ Other folk have interpreted my encouragement to keep the Sabbath as license to escape from the busyness of their lives. Now, Sabbath rest IS all about getting a break, but it is a break that is intended to both refresh our souls and strengthen us for loving re-engagement with real life. Escape is the polar opposite of Sabbath keeping.

+ I have even discerned that because some of our folk are so exhausted, they have heard the call to Sabbath as an invitation to disconnect from church!

Believe me, in more than one way, I know many people are worn out and over extended. But the call to Sabbath is NOT about disconnecting from that which is life giving. Nor is it license to opt out of community. To me that seems like selfishness not repentance. You see, Sabbath keeping asks us to rethink all the rest of our lives - how we spend/waste/fritter/indulge the vast bulk of our time. To be sure, there are church events and commitments that should be critiqued, too. But not before a serious ethical inventory of what we do with the vast bulk of our waking days.

One of the blessings of Sabbath is that it helps us live as our deepest and best selves during our WORKING hours. Norman Wirzba puts it like this in Living the Sabbath:

When we become Sabbath people, we give one of the most compelling witnesses to the world that we worship a God who desires our collective joy and good. We give concrete expression to an authentic faith that is working to deflate the anxious and destructive pride that supposes we have to "do it all" by ourselves and through our own effort.

And, of course, if the ONLY wiggle room we have is to cut out worship - or disconnect from community life at church - then something is out of whack - and it probably ISN'T church. Smith and Patison note in Slow Church that in the United States "we come close to worshiping work. Eight-six percent of American men and 67 percent of American women work more than forty hours a week."

The Japanese have a word, karoshi, meaning "death by overwork," but according to the International Labor Organization, Americans work 137 hours per year than Japanese workers, 260 more hours per year than the British and 499 more hours per year than the French. We don't work to live; we live to work. The only one of the Ten Commandments we publicly brag about breaking is the one about remembering the Sabbath and keeping it holy, and yet we are never given any indication (in the Old Testament or the New) that forsaking the Sabbath is any more or less justifiable than murder, theft or adultery.               (Slow Church, p. 140)

My hope and prayer during this series on the Sabbath is two fold: I want to encourage and equip our folk with the desire and resources to start unplugging from the modern madness of overwork, and, I want to show that learning "what is enough" is a sacred way of living as a prayer. "Sabbath is an exercise in radical grace: in the midst of our sin and brokenness, God loves us." Loves us enough to help us rest, loves us enough to show us when to say yes and when to say no, loves us enough to claim a rhythm that lets us become our best selves.

This week, Di and I embraced the Sabbath - and it was just what the soul

doctor ordered.  We walked and rested on Friday - NO commerce - we talked and feasted. On Saturday we did modest errands and rested some more so that we could be fully present on Sunday morning. And after worship, and yet another nap, we visited with our children and sweet grandson before they headed home to Brooklyn. This type of gentle resting and renewal strengthens me for a week of ministry. Without it, I begin to see everything through the "eyes of resentment." (That's a statement I made this morning that I've been asked to unpack and will in a subsequent post.)

My deepest prayer is that more and more of our people can unplug from the frenzy that is killing them and weakening their beautiful families. In this the Sabbath becomes a grace-filled encounter that is truly counter cultural. And I guess I will keep risking being misunderstood because this is too important to give up on.

Sabbatical ramblings continue...

As we start to plan the concrete details of our up-coming sabbatical in Montreal (May - August 2015) it has been fun looking at potential homes and neighborhoods. Later this month, in fact, we'll take another trip into North Country to check out options and book a place for the residency portion of the sabbatical. And in addition to the sense of adventure in all of this, we've been pleasantly surprised to see how many places could accommodate us with our dear and special four-legged family member: Lucie.

At first I thought we would make arrangements for Lucie to be with dear friends in the US while we were away. But the more research Di did, the more options we discovered. And what a treat that would be: cher Montréal et notre chien précieux Lucie! So, during the last week of August we'll go check things out and see what happens.

We are discovering that the Plateau district - in addition to Little Italy - really strikes a chord in us. It is boho Francophone to the max - with a few gorgeous parks scattered throughout - giving it a vibe that feels right for our three month residency. Earlier this summer, after an incredible Ethiopian meal with the Brooklyn contingent, we strolled through the Plateau and were buzzed by the whole scene. What's more, dear Lucie would fit right in. We are looking for a place that will give me a practice/prayer room for working on the upright bass as well as writing. It will also serve as a guest room for a few folk (not the whole congregation!) as well as family members who will take time to experience the groove.

As this week unfolds, other sabbatical plans will start to take shape: appointments with jazz liturgy folk in NYC, Nashville and Ann Arbor - finding lodging for our transition week after Montreal - and working on the programming for the congregation during my absence. This is a sacred and playful time - and I am full to overflowing with gratitude. 

NOTE: This just in: when we head North to check out lodging, we'll do a little detour into the Eastern Townships to stop by a book signing by Louise Penny. She is the author of one of our favorite series: Inspector Gamache! And we'll spend the night in the Auberge Knowlton (http://www.aubergeknowlton.ca/) after chilling at Brome Lake Books (http://bookmanager.com/1178946/?q=h&STG=1318895685) What a gas.

Love never gives up...

It isn't yet clear to me when it happened. Perhaps it has been part of that

evolutionary longing for intimacy with the holy that started to ripen within my soul at about 15. Maybe it has been both the gradual dawning that I have been embraced by grace throughout my 62 years as well as God's tender patience. It could be simply that from time to time I was able to see the unity within a lifetime of small epiphanies, I don't know. Maybe it is all of the above and probably much more, too. What I'm trying to say is that from time to time it seems as if I am awakened from the flurry of ordinary busyness so that I might notice in a new way where the Lord has taken me along the journey of life. 

Because the One who is Holy is patient, there have rarely been apocalyptic changes in my soul. St. Paul is clear: Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth.It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. I like Peterson's reworking, too: 

Love never gives up.

Love cares more for others than for self.

Love doesn’t want what it doesn’t have.

Love doesn’t strut,

Doesn’t have a swelled head,

Doesn’t force itself on others,

Isn’t always “me first,”

Doesn’t fly off the handle,

Doesn’t keep score of the sins of others,

Doesn’t revel when others grovel,

Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,

Puts up with anything,

Trusts God always,

Always looks for the best,

Never looks back,

But keeps going to the end.

Incrementally, however, the lure and healing of the Lord has been at work within, making some of my rough places smooth and some of my hard places soft, changing me tenderly from the inside out. Over time, whether I have consciously been faithful or not, the way of Christ's compassion has been active - and what strikes me this Sabbath morning is how serene God has been while bringing hope, love and new perspective to birth within me whether I've realized it or not.

I was reading the NY Times, looking carefully at the movie reviews in the Arts and Leisure section, when I asked myself: when did I start to lose interest in the block busters? Used to be that I was obsessed with popular culture. When I was a child I could tell time by what TV program was blasting away. And I couldn't wait to get my hands on the latest record or fanzine of the moment. As time passed, I became a bit more discriminating when it came to the latest fad, but I was still starving for connection with something greater than myself so regularly jumped on board whatever was shaking as the current buzz. I can't tell you how important it used to be to see ALL the most popular movies  - and know all the trends in popular music - as early as possible. 

But not any more. I am uncertain when my interests changed but they are clearly different - and I am grateful. Frederick Buechner once observed that the patient commitment of God sometimes looks like "the unflagging luancy of the Lord (mixed with) the unending seaminess of man... and the meeting between them is always a matter of life or death and usually both." Something within must die so that something better can come to life. In Slow Church, the authors suggest that often "what sparks this change is when we become increasingly attentive not just to our end, but also to the means by which we could best reflect the love and peace of Jesus."

"Our tendency as Western churches is to shift, out of impatience, to the

logic of 'by any means necessary. (But) picking up our crosses and following Jesus is messy and painful and slow, so we (often) justify any action with the hope that it will lead us to the kingdom of God." And if not the kingdom, then something that is fun and engaging. But if we keep returning to the way of Jesus, resting and abiding in his love, all of a sudden we awaken to the fact that we have been changed from the inside out. What used to be important has, in fact, died so that more love and patience and beauty might grow in its place. Not completely - not without ups and downs - but authentically.

In Peterson's reworking of Matthew 11, Jesus says: "Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” Without consciously taking time to rest and reflect on the way of Jesus, I start to unravel. But when I pause - and abide - even when such pauses are inconsistent, God's patient love bears fruit - the fruit St. Paul calls the fruit of the Holy Spirit.

Back in the day, my man Lou Reed, expressed the angry side of this truth in his song: Star Man.

Another favorite, Cat Stevens, knew something of this challenge, too in his gospel-like lament: Miles from Nowhere. For decades I found myself drifting between these two songs.

And while I still love them both - and know they gave shape and form to my inner quest for decades - more often than not these days my life feels more like this... and I never quiet realized it was coming until it happened.