Ash Wednesday

I love Steve Earle's take on the words of Ash Wednesday: ashes to ashes, dust to dust...

So as Ash Wednesday unfolds here in the Berkshires the Sanctuary is prepared - communion bread is ready and the candles are set - all that's needed is a little olive oil in the ashes and we're ready for 7:30 pm worship. I like the way Gertrud Mueller-Nelson speaks of this observance:

Thinking about Lent is not my favorite thing to do. In fact, I rather hate it. Every year, when the subject comes up, I see myself resist. I can think about Advent, about expectancy. It holds some concerns, but to be impregnated with new life is a rather hopeful subject. During Advent we rejoice as we open ourselves to the mysteries of the marriage of heaven to earth. But in Lent we come to know that the only way to our own healing and wholeness comes paradoxically through dismembering - and appallingly painful process which life offers us, ready or not, and which Lent give us the form and meaning for. "They have piece3d my hands and my feet and have numbered all my bones.

It is a very old tradition of God's to pick his inept, reluctant, non-eloquent types to carry the message of change and atonement. Worse yet,peddling penance is unpopular. It doesn't sell. That makes anyone trying to carry his message home a candidate for painful ineptitude.

The good news about doing Ash Wednesday amidst New England congregationalists is that it is all essentially new territory for us. To be sure, we've seen our Catholic and Episcopal neighbors with their ashes marked by the sign of the cross, but in 246 years, our congregation has only observed Ash Wednesday twice - both on my watch - and this year will be round three. So there is a freshness in reclaiming this ancient ritual designed to help us practice dying to self so that the true self might grow stronger. I am intellectually and emotionally ready for the fast to begin but as is so often true for me: the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. And so we pray:

All Loving God, you have created us out of the dust of the earth: grant that these ashes may be to us a sign of our mortality and penitence, that we may remember that it is only by your gracious gift that we are given everlasting life; through Jesus Christ our Savior. Amen.

Notes for Lent One: Taken

NOTE: After our observance of Ash Wednesday tomorrow - February 17th - we will move into the 40 days of a Holy Lent. Here are my worship notes for Sunday, February 21st, the first Sunday in this season. I will be going deeper into the "Eucharistic spirituality" that has grabbed my attention over the past two weeks. Drawing heavily from Henri Nouwen's little book, The Life of the Beloved, we will explore what it means to be "taken, blessed, broken and shared." Our Lent will also include two study conversations: on Wednesdays at 12 noon, Luther Pierce and I will host a conversation re: "Faithfully Facing Dying" using study material from the United Church of Christ. And on Mondays at 7 pm, I will lead a group in "Lord, Teach Us to Pray" as an exploration of many styles of prayer.

Lent is a time to remember, writes Dianne Bergant, remember specifically that we are dust. And the reason the Church calls us to Lent again and again is so we might remember the salvation that only God can give. Apparently it is human nature to forget – to overlook – to become so busy and self-obsessed that we start living as if we were the center of the universe.

• Politicians and marketing companies know this – and saturate our days with jingles and commercials and images that are so catching and seductive that they worm their way into our deepest selves without our ever knowing.

• Ever find yourself humming or singing one of those insipid but addictive commercials – and the harder you try to quit the more insistent and maddening it becomes?

It is small wonder that some of our most creative – and well-paid – minds go into marketing, right? Human beings can only manage so much information at one time. So if you want your message to be dominant, then you have to remind and reinforce over and over again.

And so we return to Lent – our annual spiritual infomercial – that was created to help us remember the salvation that only God can provide. Because, you see, given all the competing messages that are at work for our attention, another human truth is that most of us will only hear and honor what we want to hear and embrace. Frederick Buechner has written that:

Because the Word that God speaks to us is always an incarnate word – a word spelled out to us not alphabetically, in syllables, but enigmatically, in events and books and even the movies we see or the music we listen to – the chances are we will never get it just right. We are so used to hearing what we want to hear and remaining deaf to what it would be well for us to hear that it is hard to break the habit. (It takes practice)… to keep our hearts and minds open as well as our ears, but if we do this we will come to recognize, beyond all doubt, that however faintly we hear God, the Lord is indeed speaking to us… (about a salvation that only God can give.)

And so we return – again and again – to Lent asking for ears to hear. Like Jesus in the desert wilderness, it is very easy to become confused – especially when confronting choices about how we live that might bring us greater comfort, honor and social satisfaction. Who doesn’t want their lives to be simpler, less painful and more rewarding? As Kate Huey of the United Church of Christ has asked: “Why shouldn't Jesus satisfy his hunger with a little bread, and wouldn't it be great if Jesus ruled the world (instead of the hated Romans), and how impressive would it be if Jesus flung himself off the temple roof and a thousand angels came to rescue him? If Jerusalem witnessed that one amazing thing, early on in Jesus' ministry, perhaps there would be no need for the rest of the Gospel, right?”

• That’s the wisdom of marketing, right? Razzle dazzle – sex appeal – the lure of power and prestige? NBC television received over $261 million in advertising for this year’s Super Bowl. One executive said, "The Super Bowl has become one of our country's biggest holidays, a uniquely American day, and advertisers recognize the value in being a part of it."

• And what was advertised? Doritos, Budweiser, sexy women, stupid men and high priced cars. There is a whole subset on the Internet ranking what are the best Super Bowl commercials of all time, did you know that?

In some ways, the community of faith born of Jesus Christ doesn’t stand a chance against that kind of money, power and sex appeal. But it never has – and winning in terms of the world has never been Christ’s goal. Theologian Sharon Ringe puts it like this: "Public relations stunts contradict the gospel, and indeed, the heart of Jerusalem will prove to have another welcome for Jesus – the Cross – because of the nature of the gospel he brings" and his refusal to play by their rules.

And so we return to Lent – quietly and carefully – with song and prayer and silence. Very different from the Super Bowl, yes? And we return to our consideration of how it is we might live as God’s beloved. Throughout the season of Epiphany, God’s light illuminated the true nature of Jesus as the Lord’s beloved. Remember last week when amidst the prayers on the mountain the voice of God shared these words with the disciples: this is my beloved with whom I am well pleased? Well, Lent is one of the ways we are asked to remember – and practice – how to live as God’s beloved.

Using Henri Nouwen’s insights that just as there are four movements offered to the bread of Holy Communion – it is taken, blessed, broken and then shared – so, too, are there four spiritual commitments to living as God’s beloved in our daily lives. Today we go more deeply into the first discipline: taken. Nouwen writes:

To become the beloved of God we, first of all, have to claim that we are taken. That might sound very strange at first, and yet it is essential to becoming the Beloved… therefore the first step in the spiritual life is to acknowledge with our whole being that we have already been taken by God.

Now think about that: God has already taken you and claimed you as the Lord’s beloved. There is an abruptness and force to this grace that is supposed to remind you that even though you must put this blessing into practice, first and foremost, the blessings of God are an act of God. God takes us – calls us – and chooses us before we are ever involved.

• Like bread at the Eucharist, we don’t bake ourselves – we don’t come to the table all by ourselves either – we are carried, chosen, taken.

• You see, to be taken by God is a humbling awakening – it tells us that God cherishes us profoundly and there is nothing we can do to earn this love.

• Did you get that? There is NOTHING we can do to earn God’s grace – and that makes some people crazy: we want to be in control – we ache to be in charge – we love having things to do and lists to check off.

But Lent isn’t about what we can do – it’s about what God wants to do for us – and the temptations Jesus faces in the wilderness blast that out like a trumpet call for those with ears to hear. Each of Christ’s temptations – certainly their goals – could be good. What’s wrong about wanting to “feed the hungry, bring the world under the control of good and trust in God's power to protect us?” Our motivation suggests one scholar:

So often we choose to accomplish good things in ways that are less than admirable. We try to perform the extraordinary so what we do reflects favorably on us. We use brute force in order to achieve control. We put God to the test rather than live peacefully with God's plan as it unfolds within and around us. We seek to become the super-hero, the super-minister, the super-Christian, on our own.

Over and over again, even when scripture is quoted and tradition invoked, Jesus tells his adversary: Stop – it takes more than bread to be fully alive – so I will not tempt the Lord my God. Stop. The first insight to living as God’s beloved is that it is all up to God – not you or me or any of our actions – which should be simultaneously humbling and liberating.

I love the way Nouwen puts this in his book The Life of the Beloved when he writes:

From all eternity, long before you were born and became a part of history, you existed in God’s heart. Long before your parents admired you or your friends acknowledged your gifts or your teachers, colleagues and employers encouraged you, you were already chosen. They eyes of love had seen you as precious, as of infinite beauty, as of eternal value And when love chooses, it chooses with a perfect sensitivity for the unique beauty of the chosen one – what’s more it chooses without making anyone else feel excluded. For to be chosen is not about competition… it is about embracing… which is perhaps something only our hearts can ever grasp.

Isn’t that right – that perhaps only our hearts can grasp that since the beginning of time you and you and you – were embraced and chosen in love to be God’s precious beloved? How counter-cultural is that? The anti-thesis of the Super Bowl! And I’m not picking on professional sports – although I think it is obscene and unholy that athletes are paid in the millions of dollars while teachers and doctors and nurses and counselors are treated like yesterday’s fashion. No, what I’m trying to show is how totally counter-cultural – upside down – and humbling are the tender values of Jesus Christ.

• They have NOTHING to do with what we call civilization. That’s why Jesus is out in the wilderness, you know? He wants to show us that the way of God – the life of the beloved – is born outside the status quo. It is not only beyond the rules and habits of the privileged, it is born at the borders of the city. In the wilderness – on the fringes of everything we know to be nice.

• That’s why Jesus is out in the desert, you know? “Out beyond the domestication of reality as defined by culture and human exchange,” writes Marcus Borg, Jesus is searching for the wild and liberating truth of God. Like his mentors throughout Jewish history – Moses and Elijah whom he prayed with on the mountain last week or his wild man cousin, John the Baptist – Jesus is on a vision quest.

He is in training for how to live in a way that will turn the world upside down so that it can finally be right-side up according to the very grace of God. Dare I say he is practicing how to live and trust that he is the beloved of God? And if Jesus had to practice – and remember – let’s just say that it is likely that we do, too.

So here are two ways of practicing, cultivating and saturating yourself in the knowledge that you truly are the beloved of God:

• First, when the world hurts you: when your loved ones wound you – when the marketing gurus assure you that you are too fat or too thin – too stupid or too boring – too old or too young – too ignorant or over qualified – whenever that happens and it happens every single day of our lives YOU have to reclaim the truth of God.

Every time you feel hurt, offended or rejected, you must say to yourself: These feelings, strong as they may be, are not my true self… for I am a chosen child of God – precious in the Lord’s eyes – beloved from all eternity and held safe in God’s everlasting embrace.

• And second the best way to remind yourself that you are beloved is to find countless little ways to say thank you to the Lord. “Gratitude is the most fruitful way of deepening your consciousness that you are not an accident, but a divine choice,” writes Nouwen. We are inclined to complain – go towards bitterness rather than gratitude – carp rather then find a way to celebrate and it poisons us heart from the inside out.

I’ve seen it in action – I’ve witnessed how destructive it can be to the ones I love – and I’ve seen how well intentioned church people can suck the joy out of life because they grasp bitterness rather than gratitude.

So I’m going to give you something that you can take home with you – something that has changed my life and helped me practice choosing to know that I am God’s beloved – ok? And you can use it or discard it as you like. I don’t remember where I found it – I have no idea who wrote it – but I’ve been carrying it around with me for about 15 years and it really helps.

It’s called a letter from God and you can read it whenever you need it. It says…

Dear James: This is God. Today I will be handling all your problems for you. I do NOT need your help. So, have a wonderful day. I love you.

PS – remember… if life happens to deliver you a situation that you cannot handle, do not attempt to resolve it all by yourself. Kindly put it into the SFGT box – something for God to do – and know that I will get to it in my own time. All situations will be resolved, but in my time, not yours. And once the matter is in the box, do not hold onto it by worrying. Instead, focus on all the blessings that are present in your life right now.

If you find yourself stuck in traffic, don’t despair: there are people in this world for whom driving is an unheard of privilege. Should you have a bad day at work, think of the man who has been out of work for years. Should you despair over a relationship gone bad, think of the person who has never known what it is like to love and be loved in return. Should you grieve the passing of another weekend, think of the woman who has to work 12 hours a day, 7 days a week just to feed her children or purchase health care.

Should your car break down, leaving you miles away from assistance, think of the paraplegic who would love to take that walk. Should you notice a new gray hair in the mirror, think of the person with cancer in chemo who wishes she had hair to examine. Should you find yourself at a loss and pondering what life is all about, asking what is my purpose: be thankful – there are those who didn’t live long enough to get the opportunity.

And should you find yourself the victim of another’s bitterness, ignorance, smallness or insecurities, remember: things could be worse – you could be one of them.

This Lent, dear people, God wants you to know that you are the beloved being made whole in Christ Jesus our Lord.

credits: seasonal cross by Gertrud Mueller-Nelson in To Dance with God; Desert Garden by Byashim Nurali; St. Joseph with Jesus by Michael O'Brien

Good intentions...

A quiet day for reflection (and some house cleaning) as I get ready for Lent. After devouring the first five chapters of Trevor Herriot's The Wound of Jacob I found myself listening to a variety of tracks by Toad the Wet Sprocket. My friend, Steve, gave me "Dulcinea" and I've been picking up a few other cuts over the months. (Thanks, Steve, for the connection!)

I am particularly taken with "Good Intentions" as the obscure light of Lent dawns... What a GREAT Lenten opening line: "It's hard to rely on my good intentions when my head's full of things that I can't mention!"

The song closes with this beautifully understated understanding of compassion and humility:

I can't be hard on you because I've been there, too And learned a lot of things from you
But life gives little relief
Give us a reprieve
And when everyone is cold as ice
I clinch my fists and close my eyes
Imagining the world outside
But I can see that I'm not blind...

They have a sweet groove that I am really liking: I understand the guitarist/singer Glen Philips hangs with the progressive acoustic band, Nickel Creek who also bring a gentle tenderness with just a touch of melancholia to their reflections on the human experience. (Check out: "When You Come Back Down" @ http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mwkpihGwSj0) Besides, any acoustic band that covers Radiohead, Coldplay AND the Jackson Five have got something going for them!

Back to Toad... two tunes on "Dulcinea" really grab me: "Windmills" and "Fall Down." Both have terrific pop hooks, insightful lyrics and an energy that reeks "lent" to me these days. I mean what can you say about a lyric that includes:

She said "I'm fine, I'm okay"
cover, up your trembling hands
There's indecision when you
Know you ain't got nothing left
when the good times never stay
And the cheap thrills always
seem to fade away

When will we
When will we fall down

Jump back, got to get out of here
been too long this time
Jump back, got to get out of here
When will we fall down
For the last time conscience calls
For a good friend I was never there at all
When will we fall down

As Lent creeps closer my prayer (from Iona) is becoming:

O Christ, you are within each one of us.

Nearer are you than breathing,

closer than hands and feet.

Ours are the eyes with which you, in mystery,

look out with compassion on the world.

Take us outside, O Christ, outside holiness,

out to where soldiers curse and nations clash at the crossroads of the world.

We ask it for your own name's sake.

Amen.

credits: 1) G cut 1.2 by = lobby @ deviantart.com; 2) Waiting for my soul by Ruumy @ deviantart.com; 3) Order and disorder by WonderMilkyGirl @ deviantart.com

Ash Wednesday and Lent...

"The wind blows where she will," said Jesus - to which Bob Franke added - "so beware of the man selling tickets." Last week my sister, Laura, sent us a gift package of delicious teas, an old musical friend began a brilliant new radio show that feeds my soul, everyone in the Berkshires freaked out over a snow storm that never arrived and I found myself re-reading some brilliant new/old prayer resources from the Community of Iona. (No fooling that the wind/spirit blows where she will...)

Which is to say that I had no plan to explore Eucharistic spirituality for Lent when I first started, but now find myself delighted to be moving in that direction. During preparation for worship over these last two weeks, the wisdom of Henri Nouwen in "the Beloved" just kept working its way into my head and heart. And I found that there was not time or space to go as deeply into his ideas of being "taken, blessed, broken and shared." So I took a bath (usually it is just showers for me) and found myself reflecting on this prayer from Iona:

With the eye of a weaver, Lord, you have chosen us such different threads to be gathered into unity that the world might believe. so may we not serve your purpose unless we are open to each other; not care for each other unless we reflect your love; not dare to love like you unless we are glad to accept the cost and joy of discipleship, as friends and followers of Jesus in whose name we pray.

What a great collection of images: gathered from diversity to document unity, threads in a tapestry chosen to be shared in service and beauty, nothing done unless it embody the cost and joy of discipleship. If there had been any ambiguity about Lent before, it was gone for it seems the Spirit has been blowing me toward the communion table and mystery of bread.

That means that during Lent I will be rereading The Life of the Beloved by Nouwen as well as his collected insights on spiritual direction (ed. Michael Christiansen and Rebeca Laird) and prayer (ed. Wendy Wilson Greer) too. And I think that there are four other books that are calling my imagination as Lent dawns:

+ The One Loaf - an everyday celebration by Joy Mead of the Community of Iona. I bought this book when we visited Iona four years ago and it has continued to intrigue me. Now, as part of my Lenten discipline, I'm going to bake something to share each week.

+ The Pastor as Minor Prophet by M. Craig Barnes. This wise little book was given to me by a wise older pastor in my congregation and it got buried under seemingly more important volumes. It is brilliant, witty, provocative and practical all at once - real bread for the journey - and I look forward to spending time with it through the wilderness of this season.

+ The Spirituality of Bread by Donna Sinclair - another bread book that I started about three years ago but never finished. A few weeks ago on mini-retreat in Brattleboro my wife handed me a collection of quotes on feasting and fasting noting, "This was made for you, man..." And it reminded me of an old Scottish verse: Be gentle when you touch bread - let it not lie uncared for - unwanted. So often bread is taken for granted; there is so much beauty in bread. Beauty of sun and soil, beauty of patient toil, winds and rain have caressed it - Christ so often blessed it: be gentle when you touch bread. So... back I go to see what I have been careless with all too often.

+ And then The Wound of Jacob by Trevor Herriot about how wildness has been sacrificed and must be reclaimed for the healing of all of God's creation. I started it last night and was touched by the beauty of his prose and the tenderness of his heart. (Thanks Peter!) For most of my life I have HATED the wildness of winter. Yesterday we went skiing and the snow was too slick and I kept wiping out and crashing into trees! After smashing into the dog AND a tree for the third time I just said, "Fuck it - I'm done!" And snapping off my skis dragged my sorry ass home... Herriot is luring me to, at the very least, walk back into those woods and get myself outside more this Lent in the harsh quiet of the winter. So that's part of my prayer this season, too. (NOTE: after talking about this with Dianne she said, "You need to walk more - I worry about you." So, Lent ALSO means 3 days of walking plus one afternoon in the woods with her. Talk about repentance!)

+ The Sacred Meal by Nora Gallagher - one of the great new books about Eucharist by a woman who had considered studying for the priesthood but chose otherwise.

And I have set aside some new/old music for savor: Carrie Newcomer, Rickie Lee Jones, Leonard Cohen, Toad the Wet Sprocket, David Crosby, K.D. Laing and Cowboy Junkies. Winter is still here. Gertrud Mueller-Nelson writes in To Dance with God that there is a season for waiting and watching and gestating and nothing comes to life without such a season. That's what Lent feels like to me this year in the Berkshires.

So when Ash Wednesday comes, I will be singing my own version of Isaiah 58:

Shout! A full-throated shout! Hold nothing back—a trumpet-blast shout!
Tell my people what's wrong with their lives,
face my family Jacob with their sins!
They're busy, busy, busy at worship,
and love studying all about me.
To all appearances they're a nation of right-living people—
law-abiding, God-honoring.
They ask me, 'What's the right thing to do?'
and love having me on their side.
But they also complain,
'Why do we fast and you don't look our way?
Why do we humble ourselves and you don't even notice?'

"Well, here's why:
"The bottom line on your 'fast days' is profit.
You drive your employees much too hard.
You fast, but at the same time you bicker and fight.
You fast, but you swing a mean fist.
The kind of fasting you do
won't get your prayers off the ground.
Do you think this is the kind of fast day I'm after:
a day to show off humility?
To put on a pious long face
and parade around solemnly in black?
Do you call that fasting,
a fast day that I, God, would like?

"This is the kind of fast day I'm after:
to break the chains of injustice,
get rid of exploitation in the workplace,
free the oppressed,
cancel debts.

What I'm interested in seeing you do is:
sharing your food with the hungry,
inviting the homeless poor into your homes,
putting clothes on the shivering ill-clad,
being available to your own families.
Do this and the lights will turn on,
and your lives will turn around at once.
Your righteousness will pave your way.
The God of glory will secure your passage.
Then when you pray, God will answer.
You'll call out for help and I'll say, 'Here I am.'

As a young social activist, Isaiah's word used to get me fired-up - they still do - but I no longer am all that interested in getting in any body's face. Rather, for now at least, I think I need to make them some bread and sit and listen to their story for awhile. Maybe take a walk to let it all sink in, too. Then, and maybe only then, will I be able to discern where the wind may be blowing. We shall see...

Ash Wednesday, therefore, becomes a quiet and gentle way back to the table: a time to gather as community and carefully start the kneading and waiting as we wait for the bread to rise. I hope to bake my first loaf for Wednesday's Eucharist.

Can you beat this...?

About a month ago, I found this INCREDIBLE book of lists at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston: Hang the DJ - An Alternative Book of Music Lists. It makes GREAT road trip fodder to pass those long miles without decent radio (another bow to the realm of satellites, I know) and is often ironically spot-on in describing the sublime joys of listening to the Stones sing American country and western.

Here's the opening list just for kicks: "Spit it out! 10 Essential Stutter Songs." Properly employed, there's nothing catchier, cooler, weirder or funnier than a rock'n'roll stutter. The sung stutter is a vocal expression of one's inner funkiness. It is the sound of a voice dancing. It's not always pretty, but you have to respect the effort...

10. "My Sharona" - The Knack. A quintessential one-hit wonder.

9. "Movin' Out" - Billy Joel. He is brilliant on "heart attack-ack-ack-ack!"
8. "Fidelity" - ReginaSpektor. A less well-known essential.
7. "You Ain't Seen Nothin' Yet" - Bachman-Turner Overdrive. Cheesy but awesome.
6. "Changes" - David Bowie. A lift from the darkness into the light.
5. "Welcome to the Jungle" - Guns N'Roses. Badass energy over a relentless riff.
4. "Lola" - The Kinks. The rarest of rock'n'roll stutters: a SINGALONG stutter.

3. "My Generation" - The Who. Garage band energy filled with spite and bravado.
2. "Pshycho Killer" - Talking Heads. Qu'est que c'est?
1. "Peggy Sue" - Buddy Holly. The grandfather of them all who is so convincing that "you can smell the unplanned pregnancy waiting just around the corner."

What more can you say after reading such a list as this... except, maybe, I gotta buy that bad boy!?! So I did... blessed Sabbath.

Robin Hood Radio...

More and more I find myself exploring the world of music through the Internet - how about you? I couldn't find the energy to watch the Grammy Awards this year - not that it was every a lot of fun for me - after all when the Beatles were at their prime they were always overlooked. But more and more, I just don't care. I still am fascinated and intrigued by popular culture, but I find that my soul is rarely fed by much of what is currently popular.

I suspect that this is partially just the ebb and flow of contemporary music: there was a time I went into retreat when Springsteen was ascending, too. I was learning to play Dave Von Ronk instead of "Racing in the Streets." Today I love 'em both - and I suspect that in a few years I will rediscover some of this generation's great tunes. Nevertheless, I find that when I just sit down to be in the world of music, there are three or four key places:

+ My current favorite is the new show on Robin Hood Radio @ http://robinhoodradio.com/. An old friend - and still great musician - Hal Lefferts is the DJ and he puts on a smokin' show each day at 3 pm. It is radio like I remember FM at it's prime: great mixes of every style all in one sweet, soul-nourishing groove.

+ Another great site is Martha's Vineyard Radio @ www.mvyradio.com/valentines_day.php
which is totally worth the effort to check out. It is almost as good as being back on the Island when I was a wild-ass, in-love young man!

+ Then there is Last FM @ http://www.last.fm/ which is a totally great on-line collection of EVERY popular culture artist you can imagine. If you get a jones for Fairport Convention but your vinyl collection sounds like shit, go to Last FM - they rarely disappoint. Equally fine is Pandora Radio @ www.pandora.com/#/. You will love them both and they are always ready to help you make new discoveries, too.

And as much as I love music it is becoming clear that we're going to have to move into satellite radio for the car: there is just too much crap on what passes for radio to handle more that 20 minutes. Thank God for IPODS and satellites and Internet radio. It is a blessing that I celebrate!

Snow days...

Today was a snow day... of sorts. The flakes are REALLY falling right now and will probably amount to something by tomorrow, but folks have been waiting in worry all day long for something that hasn't yet arrived. To be sure, south of us they've really been socked: NYC cancelled school, the DC area is under a second deluge and the mid-Atlantic states are trying to dig out of what happened last week. But the Berkshires are just beautiful - tranquil and quiet - as the storm begins to pick up speed.

This little break gave me a chance to lay the ground work for our Good Friday liturgy. As some of you know, I have been exploring the intersection of the ancient tradition and popular culture for the past 8-10 years. This year's theme is emerging as something I am calling "Songs of Solace Amidst the Suffering."

+ Each of my band mates has selected a song that has brought them both comfort and perspective during times of trial in their lives. So far this includes Leonard Cohen's "Joan of Arc," Meatloaf's "Heaven Can Wait," JJ Heller's "Your Hands" and a gospel-like original by my other guitar player, "Gonna Be a Brighter Day."

+ We are finding readings from scripture and poetry that speak the word of God's presence and light within the darkness, too. One of my favorites is this from Scott Cairns called "Blood Atonement." It is a killer.

This much we might say with some assurance:
a crucifixion occurred, apparently
gratuitous, but a harsh intersection –
tree and flesh and some iron. We might add
that sufficient blood resulted to bring about
a death, the nature of which we still puzzle.

As to why? Why the blood? Why the puzzle?
It seems that no one who knows is saying,
which is not to say we lack opinion.

Still, while we suffer no shortage of dire
speculation, hardly any of it
has given us anything like a clue.

All we dare say is that it was necessary;
that we have somehow become both culprit
and beneficiary, and that we

Are left to something quite like a response
to that still lost blood, to the blameless world.

+ And then there are the great hymns of the tradition: Precious Lord, Were You There, Amazing Grace, I Wonder as I Wander, Over My Head - and one of my all time favorites - Wayfaring Stranger. (Man I hope I can find a fiddler!)


I give thanks to God for snow days - musical mates with creativity and talent - and a way to explore God's loving presence from within the hard places.

You are beloved...

NOTE: As I am getting ready to post this I find myself listening to a podcast of a new radio show hosted by Hal Lefferts. I was in a band with Hal during high school - he is a totally smoking guitar player and all round sweet soul - and it is a treat to here his new show. You can check him out at: Robin Hood Radio from Sharon, CT at http://www.robinhoodradio.com/shows.phphp Keep on rockin' dude, keep on rockin!

Ok, here are my Sunday sermon notes for Transfiguration Sunday, February 14, 2010. As the last Sunday before Lent begins, a theme has emerged: living the spirituality of the beloved. Henri Nouwen, of course, is critical for moving this deeper and I sense that I will be taking each of his major themes - living as those who are chosen, blessed, broken and shared - to guide my preaching throughout Lent.

So, come join us this week if you are in town at 10:30 am. If not, we're also doing a weekly gig on PCTV in Pittsfield at 11:30 am and 6:00 pm. You can also check it out on-line at: http://www.pittsfieldtv.org/sfieldtv.org/ under the program name: "Sunday Street with the Rev. James Lumsden."

I am going to ask you to try to do something this morning that is very hard – it isn’t complicated – but will take genuine concentration. For, you see, I would like you to try to be genuinely open to the wisdom of today’s gospel.

• Not necessarily my take on the gospel

• And probably not your old or favorite understandings either

• Just an “openness” so that God’s presence might really be good news to you

I think of the old story about the Zen master who welcomed a new student to his community. The novice was filled with zeal and ideas – his enthusiasm was palpable – so the old soul asked him to sit for tea. And as the tea progressed, the young man talked and talked and talked; he was on fire about the quest for enlightenment and full to overflowing with questions and concerns.

So the old man stood and started to refill the young man’s cup – and when it was full he kept on pouring – and pouring and pouring and pouring. At first, the novice thought it was a foolish accident but eventually shouted, “Master whatever are you doing?” To which the enlightened one said, “How can anything be filled if it is never empty? Be still – be open – then you will be ready for blessings.”

• I think that is the challenge and invitation for us, too: be still – be open – for then you will be ready for blessing.

• And blessing is what today’s gospel offers, yes? For after Jesus ascends the mountain with Peter, James and John – and shares a mystical time of ecstatic prayer with Moses and Elijah – a voice from beyond and within proclaimed: this is my beloved, the chosen, listen to him.

I am convinced that we have been invited by God not only to listen to Christ Jesus as God’s beloved, but also to live within God’s grace as the beloved in our generation. So let me first ground this morning’s gospel for you in a context that explains the images and symbols.

• Second let me deepen our conversation about the four ingredients necessary for living into this spirituality – how being taken, blessed, broken and shared by God are essential for becoming the beloved in our world – ok?

• And third let me remind you why the life of God’s beloved always takes us down from the mountain top back into the rough and wounded realities of everyday life.

Context – spirituality – real life: so please pray with me that we might be grounded and open for this journey.

Gracious and Compassionate God – close to us as breathing and distant as the farthest star – be with us now that we might be open to you. Take the words of my mouth and the meditations of each of our hearts and cleanse them that we might be claimed as your beloved. In the spirit and presence of Christ Jesus we pray. Amen.

Here are two important contextual insights about this morning’s gospel: a) Jesus takes Peter, James and John – his closest associates – up the mountain with him for prayer; and b) while praying Jesus mystically encounters Moses and Elijah – the symbolic personifications of the Law and the Prophets of Israel – who together illuminate Christ’s deepest identity.

Only Luke’s gospel places this event we call the Transfiguration within Christ’s prayer – and I don’t think that Luke does anything accidentally – he is careful and intentional in telling the story of Jesus and the birth of the church. So when he reminds us that Jesus was at prayer, we’re supposed to connect the mountain top with other prayerful experiences:

• Jesus and all the people were at prayer during his baptism when the skies broke open, a dove appeared representing the Holy Spirit and the heavens proclaimed: This is my beloved, the chosen, with him I am well pleased. Almost the same words as today, right?

• Jesus was in prayer for 40 days and nights in the wilderness – a season we will mark together starting next week as Lent – during which time he explored his fears and brokenness amidst an abiding trust that God’s light was always present even in the darkness.

And there are regular reminders that Jesus often got away from the grind for times of renewal and solitary prayer: after cleansing the leper, he withdrew to a deserted place for prayer; before choosing the 12 who would become his key disciples, he went out to a mountain to pray; before Peter confessed and claimed Jesus as Messiah we are told that Jesus was out praying by himself; and then, of course, there is the disciples’ lament, “teach us to pray, Lord” which evokes the Lord’s Prayer.

All of which leads me to believe that Jesus spent a lot of time getting empty before he was filled. And he kept on going back to those wild, empty places to be opened by trust because he believed that if he let go, God would fill him in God’s own time. How do our Muslim sisters and brothers put that? “Inshallah” – in God’s time – if God wills it: Jesus practiced being empty so that in God’s time he could be filled.

• His prayers were rarely GIMME prayers – give me health, Lord; give me hope; give me healing; give me love – rather, mostly they were quiet, waiting and trusting prayers.

• More listening than asking – more waiting than receiving – more letting go than acquiring.

And then, at the right time... he encounters Moses and Elijah in prayer. Now I am NOT going to try to explain how this happened – there really are NO words available for ecstatic and mystical prayer – all we can do is listen and be open to the wisdom of the story. And the story says that together Jesus, Moses and Elijah were glorified – enveloped and filled with God’s wisdom, love and light – and this is not accidental in Luke’s gospel either for Luke regularly tells us that Jesus is the essence – the unity – of the Law and the prophets.

• When teaching the wealthy about their use of money, Jesus tells them to consider the Law and the prophets and to share so that poverty is ended. (Luke 16: 16-17/19-31)
• When Jesus appears to his disciples on the Emmaus Road after his resurrection – a time when they are confused by grief – he begins to explain the meaning of his life with Moses, the Law and the prophets. And then later, at supper and the breaking of the bread, when the disciples realize it is Jesus sitting with them, they say NOW we understand! (Luke 24: 13-35)

More than the other gospels, Luke wants us to know that from the beginning of time through Moses and all the prophets God was at work bringing salvation to the world through Jesus. Small wonder, then, that Luke paints a picture not unlike the one in Exodus where Moses is engulfed in light after meeting with God. Are you with me?

We are being told by the context in Luke that becoming the beloved of God is at the heart of Christ’s ministry: you are my beloved the Creator said to Jesus on the mountain – and through Christ tells us – you, too, are my beloved and chosen. Not my rejected – not my forgotten – not my abused or discarded or despised – you are my beloved.

• For you – and you – and you and all of us are made in the image of… whom? God – Christ Jesus being the fullest vision we can grasp of God’s image.

• And guess what? God don’t make junk. God is NOT co-dependent, addicted, filled with hatred and so broken that she can’t see our fears and needs.

How does today’s psalm put it? God is enthroned with the cherubim and angels – God is the lover of justice and font of healing – God is holy, mighty and beyond awe – filled to overflowing with forgiveness so that we might be whole.

All of that is what Luke is telling us in this simple story: he reminds us that Jesus practiced emptying himself so that he could be filled – he assures us that just as God’s light enveloped Christ Jesus, so, too, you and me – and then he gives us a new name: beloved – born of Christ’s love and saturated with God’s grace. And over time those far wiser than me have figured out that there is a spirituality – an intentional way of living – that nourishes us life as God’s beloved.

There are four key ingredients that are simple but so important: to live as those taken by God and blessed, to realize that we have been broken by the world but also empowered to share grace, too. These ingredients – taken, blessed, broken and shared – are at the core of living as God’s beloved. They give shape and form to Christ’s ministry and outline the movement of the Eucharist. I think I am going to spend time with each element more deeply in Lent, but here’s a taste:

• Taken – I’ve come to think that this word might better be described as chosen – taken can be too violent or harsh. But chosen – embraced by God as precious – that is closer to the truth. And while many of us don’t really believe that we are precious to the Lord – chosen in love – the spirituality of the beloved says otherwise. In fact, it asks us to empty ourselves of self-hatred and doubt and trust that God knows us by name – knit our very being into existence since before the beginning of time –and loves us in a way that will not let us go. First, we are chosen and invited to practice letting go everything that denies this sweet truth.

• Second we are blessed – and God wants us to know this from the inside out. Much of our tradition begins with sin – it is real and finds expression in our brokenness – but it is not how the story begins. No, the story begins with God’s creation and God calls it… what? Good – blessed – filled with bounty and value.

The late Henri Nouwen gives meaning to being blessed in a little story about the early days of serving the L’Arche Community in Toronto. After building a very prominent public career as a writer and seminary professor, Nouwen left it all to become a member – and part-time priest – to a group of people with disabilities and challenges founded by Jean Vanier. He writes:

One of my friends (at L’Arche) who is quite handicapped but a wonderful, wonderful lady once said to me, "Henri, can you bless me?" I remember walking up to her and giving her a little cross on her forehead. She said, "Henri, that doesn't work. No, that is not what I mean." I was embarrassed and said, "I gave you a blessing." And she said, "No, I want to be blessed.” Well, I kept thinking, "What does she mean?" Sometime later we had a little service and all these people were sitting there. After the service I said, "Janet wants a blessing."I had an alb on and a long robe with long sleeves. Janet walked up to me and said, "I want to be blessed." She put her head against my chest and I spontaneously put my arms around her, held her, and looked right into her eyes and said, "Blessed are you, Janet.

You know how much we love you. You know how important you are. You know what a good woman you are." And she looked at me and said, "Yes, yes, yes, now I know. Thank you.” And all at once I saw all sorts of energy coming back to her. She seemed to be relieved from the feeling of depression because suddenly she realized again that she was blessed. She went back to her seat and immediately other people said, "I want that kind of blessing, too."

I don’t think Nouwen’s experience is unique: we all want that kind of blessing – to know and feel from the inside out – that we are valuable and beloved of God. The second key ingredient is to nourish being blessed.

• Then there is the brokenness – we are a broken people – we live in a broken and wounded world. And while I will be sharing more about brokenness with you during Lent let me just say that the challenge of being broken is to own it. Embrace it. Not hide it or be ashamed of it or blame somebody else for it. How did Jesus put it when his flesh was broken on the Cross: Father, forgive them for they know not what they do. There is MUCH more to say about this… Inshallah – if God wills and in God’s time.

• For then – and only then – will we have something to share – which is the fourth ingredient to the spirituality of the beloved. Most of the time we can’t fix things – not only are they bigger than our abilities – but so often they are beyond change. They simply are – and as much as we would like to take the pain away and replace the fears and darkness – most of the time we can’t.

But we can share those times – fill them with our presence and loving prayers – help those we love carry their burdens. We can’t take them away no matter how hard we try – in fact, most of the time we shouldn’t even try to take away the darkness – all we can do share it. And here is the mysterious blessing of sharing the darkness: it becomes ok – a little safer – a little easier – a little less harsh.

When my daughters were small and would wake up at night with a bad dream mostly all they wanted was for me to put on a small night light and sit with them until it felt safe again. And sitting by their beds – sharing the darkness – gave them the comfort to rest and know they were loved. And over the years I’ve come to see that we’re not all that different.

We’ll do deeper into this spirituality as we move through Lent. For now let me simply add that after the prayers – after the embrace with Moses and Elijah and the illumination of the Transfiguration – Jesus took his troops down from the mountain. Peter and James and John wanted to stay up in that lofty, ecstatic place with the saints – it was a good time – and only natural.

But Jesus said, “Knock it off, will you? We have work to do: we have been called to make flesh a way of living that documents what it looks like to be chosen by God and blessed – to own and embrace the brokenness all around and within us – and then tenderly share our lives with others who are afraid and wounded as well. Come on, let’s get off this mountain and back down into the valley of the shadow of real life.”

And my friends, what was true then is true today – and that is the good news for our time – so let those who have ears to hear: hear.

(as I was listening to Hal's first show... he started off with this tune and it just seems fitting to close with it, too.)

Inshallah...

Tonight at our "Three Cups of Tea" class, we ate Afghani food (and drank a little Armenian wine because it was the closest brew I could find) and talked about where the Spirit might be calling us next in our pursuit of peace. Clearly we want to raise money for Greg Mortenson and his effort to bring schools to Afghani children - particularly girls - and we are likely to jump on this first. There were creative and wise ideas about how to make this happen so that we accomplish something meaningful in the short term.

But there are two other emerging ideas - still to be shaped and formed - that have to do with focusing upon the healing of women in particular in Afghanistan and reclaiming the "just peace" theology that the United Church of Christ began to articulate during the Cold War.

+ The group, Women for Women International, makes a strong case for those of us in the west who want to advance the cause of healing and hope to cast our lot with their work. Like the passionate insights that Nicholas Kristoff of the NY Times has shared in One Half the Sky, this group helps us translate the desires of our hearts into deeds.

(Check them out at: www.womenforwomen.org/global-initiatives-helping-women/help-women-afghanistan.php

+ An article by Susan Thistlethwaite, former president of the Chicago Theological Seminary, notes that when Obama spoke at the Nobel Peace Prize ceremony, he was not only grounded in the irony and Christian realism of Reinhold Niebuhr, but also his mother church's theology of a just peace - a phrase used carefully and intentionally. (check this out: http://newsweek.washingtonpost.com/onfaith/panelists/susan_brooks_thistlethwaite/2009/12k.washingtonpost.com/onfaith/panelists/susan_brooks_thistlethwaite/2009/12
So now we take a little time to see what the Spirit stirs up within and among us. We'll meet after worship on Sunday to see what rumblings might be taking root, make some decisions to get a fund-raiser for "Stones into Schools" happening and then agree to gather again in early Lent to begin laying the groundwork for a more sustained just peace commitment.

Since September 11th, 2001, I have had a growing sense that part of whatever ministry I might share during my remaining years MUST be about atonement - owning and atoning for the sins of my nation that I have participated in overtly or tacitly - not out of fear but compassion. I am clear that as we go deeper into this work a measure of healing will take place in God's time (inshallah.)

Who are you...?

I saw the Who during the Super Bowl half time show - spectacular pyrotechnics and a decent retro look at some of their greatest hits - but it still looked and felt sad to me. Don't get me wrong: I admire old rockers who can still share some of their magic - Springsteen did at the same venue last year and Tom Petty the year before - and these guys have earned their right to play and make millions with their CSI franchise, too. But they seem to be much more about the past than the present or the future - and that is simply nostalgia or sentimentality.

Gertrud Mueller-Nelson makes this observation about sentimentality in her reflections on family holidays and our frenetic obsession with creating a happy Christmas in her masterpiece, To Dance with God:

Sentimentality is the emotion we feel when we scoop off a part of the truth, that part which we are willing to accept, and slather it like syrup to cover what we do not want to see. Usually what we don't want to see is our own responsibility to the remaining truth. A half-truth is a very dangerous thing, because it is a lie. One example of sentimentality is those feelings around nationalism, often fostered with rousing anthems and speeches, that allow citizens to promote their own country's interests over the common interests of all nations and see themselves as superior and blameless...

I don't think rock and roll is supposed to be sentimental - or nostalgic - or a half-truth. I don't think rock and roll's greatest hits are supposed to be auctioned off to the highest corporate bidder. (And before anyone carps about U2 and IPOD remember: they did the WHOLE gig for free in pursuit of a technology that has truly advanced the sharing of beauty and music. That's right, they cut a deal and did it for FREE so get over it!)

And I don't think old rockers are supposed to either die off before they get old as brother Townsend once prophesied or act like their 15 when they are 65! I mean I love the fact that Jagger HAS the energy to shake his ass like a fool, I just don't think any body needs to see it outside the privacy of his home anymore. (And while Keith can still play the shit out of a guitar, they haven't written anything of value since Tattoo You in 1981!)

I guess what I'm saying is that some rockers have figured out how to grow up and still make music that matters - sometimes it is still beautiful and powerful, too - but it takes hard work to grow beyond being a caricature of yourself. Springsteen went through a long dry period in the 90s - with a variety of good tunes but nothing monumental - and came back more humble and mature with "The Rising." Steve Earle spent time in jail detoxing. Cheryl Crow faced real heartbreak and the agony of cancer. U2 has faced their demons and found ever new ways of maturing in a medium that was founded by children with an attitude. The Who have seen their share of troubles... but what have they gained from it all?

I first saw them back at the Fillmore East in 1968 when they debuted "Tommy" and it was electrifying. Ground-breaking. And the guys in my high school band and I went back two weeks later to see another smoking reprise of that show. They have an incredible oeuvre to celebrate:

+ the early pop/rock songs like "Can't Explain" and "My Generation"

+ the tongue in cheek power pop of "I Can See for Miles" and "Boris the Spider" (what about "A Quick One While He's Away?")

+ Tommy

+ Live at Leeds

+ Quadraphenia

+ and their masterpiece: Who's Next (that boasts "Baba O'Reilly" as well as "Won't Get Fooled Again" and "Behind Blue Eyes")

But tonight I saw two old men who looked worn out and a little bewildered doing the same old rock star shtick they've been doing since they were 16. I wish Townsend and Daltrey the best - they have enriched my life and filled my heart with hope and attitude - but it doesn't look like they've figured out how to grow up.

I remember reading how some of the men's movement folk realized that if a man reaches 50 and hasn't figured out how to grow up - and that means become humble, creative, honest and generative in some way bigger than himself - he will become a cranky, old fool. I know a lot of guys (and women) who are old but not wise. Mean-spirited sots who have nothing but piss and vinegar to share. And then there are people who have been knocked down - and learned something from it - who have become creative and compassionate. Look at T-Bone Burnett - or Elvis Costello - or Patti Smith - or Linda Ronstadt - or James Taylor - and let's not even BEGIN when it comes to Bob Dylan!

They all have something old Pete and Roger need to wrestle with... and I pray they do. (Here's an example of an old guy finding a new way into his music and craft and making it art that nourishes the soul and helps us all grow up.)

credits: 2) http://images.google.com/url?source=imgres&ct=ref&q=http://www.americansuburbx.com/2009/02/theory-ralph-eugene-meatyard-1925-1972.html&usg=AFQjCNFxeI_qDjo9jgJq_rm_xfM7icyhzQ 3) http://images.google.com/url?source=imgres&ct=ref&q=http://www.nocaptionneeded.com/%3Fp%3D3379&usg=AFQjCNFSXH1OOXKWk6soEEExvWFKxmB65A