Wednesday, June 15, 2016

the summons....

There was a running "in" joke on HBO's "The Sopranos" wherein Silvio (Lil Steven Van Zandt of E Street Band fame) did his Al Pacino/Godfather routine for the brothers.
\\
I can't tell you how many times I have done that same bit - "just when I thought I was out..." - over these past 14 months. Just when I sense that ministry in this form is over, God pulls me back in. Sunday was the baptism of a beloved father and his two wonderful children. As the day unfolded and I was wracked with anguish over Orlando, I was also in prayerful conversation with a few church leaders about our shared work for the next year. Yesterday was our interfaith Vigil for Orlando. And today, in addition to midday Eucharist, was a tender and moving conversation with a person who is discerning a deep call into ministry. after a long season in the wilderness. Like I said:  "Just when I thought I was out..." John Bell of the Iona Community captured it well in his hymn:  "The Summons."

Will you come and follow me if I but call your name?
Will you go where you don't know and never be the same?
Will you let my love be shown? Will you let my name be known,

Will you let my life be grown in you and you in me?

Will you love the "you" you hide if I but call your name?
Will you quell the fear inside and never be the same?
Will you use the faith you've found to reshape the world around,
through my sight and touch and sound in you and you in me?

Lord your summons echoes true when you but call my name.
Let me turn and follow you and never be the same.
In Your company I'll go where Your love and footsteps show.
Thus I'll move and live and grow in you and you in me.



Tuesday, June 14, 2016

worship notes: calling out hate crimes with love

NOTE:  Here are my worship notes for this coming Sunday, June 19, 2016. I have just
returned from our public interfaith vigil. And while I could have used a little more silence and lament, I am blessed to have been with other folk standing in courage and solidarity at this frightening moment.  Here's my take on where we go next; join me for worship this Sunday @ 10:30 am if you are close by, ok?

Introduction
This morning I must be simultaneously didactic, offensive and compassionately broken-hearted with you, just – I might add – as I am with myself in these troubling days of violence, fear-mongering and demagoguery. Like some of you, I found myself grief-stricken and enraged over the massacre of our sisters and brothers in the Pulse dance club of Orlando, Florida. 

+  It was a vicious hate crime against GLBTQ lovers. It was an act of domestic terrorism against our common security and safety as Americans. It was a desperate cry of anguish and despair from a profoundly broken and troubled man. It was the ‘chickens coming home to roost’ yet again in a culture that pays homage to the idol of might makes right. It was the karmic consequence of religious bigotry that has perpetuated hatred, discrimination and violence against the queer community for millennia. And it was the embodiment of what St. Paul once called in the opening chapters of Romans:  the wrath of God.

+  Now, before you bolt – or prejudge my words too quickly as more religious BS – or cry out in your own grief and fury, let me explain:  I am NOT saying that it was God’s will or judgment that 50 gay, lesbian and trans men and women should be murdered in one of the few places in their city they felt safe to be fully alive. Nor am I suggesting that this massacre was anything but an atrocity – a sacrilege – a barbaric and cruel violation of everything that is holy.

Rather, what I am saying – and sadly what I believe with all my heart – is that what happened in Orlando – and what took place in Newtown and San Bernardino and Charleston, SC – is what happens to real people when we willfully choose to ignore God’s mandate to love one another as God has loved us.  God’s wrath, you see, is NEVER retribution and violence from above, but always the social and emotional consequences of our own selfish, fearful, ignorant and broken decisions.  Whenever we personally or collectively decide to live just for ourselves – without consideration of love, justice, compassion or the common good – the One who is Holy lets us experience the consequences of our choices. Like a wise but broken-hearted parent or wizened old AA sponsor, God says:  Do you really want to live this way?  Is this truly what you feel is best?  Ok, have it your way for a while – experience this horror. Your cruelty will hurt everyone – including yourself and me – but maybe, just maybe, it will also bring you back to love when you’re sick and tired of the devastation and pain. Maybe!?!

Insights
Three portions of Scripture have shaped my conclusion that God’s wrath is NEVER about God bringing punishment and death upon those whom God loves – and that would be us ALL, everyone without exception. No, God’s wrath is about the Lord choosing to be silent, absent, empty and small in the loving hope that as we feel and experience the horrors of life without love and responsibility, we will want to return home. Repent. Change our direction and get back on track. The first text is Romans 1 and represents the distillation of St. Paul’s mature Christian wisdom.  From prison Paul writes these words:

The wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and wickedness of those who by their wickedness suppress the truth. For what can be known about God is plain to them… ever since the creation of the world his eternal power and divine nature, invisible though they are, have been understood and seen through the things he has made. So they are without excuse; for though they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him, but they became futile in their thinking, and their senseless minds were darkened. Claiming to be wise, they became fools; and they exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images resembling a mortal human being or birds or four-footed animals or reptiles.

Now let there be NO ambiguity about what the Apostle is telling us: 

+  First, he wants us to know that all people regardless of their religious tradition understand something about the way of the Lord simply by observing nature:  there is order to the seasons and there are times of unexpected power and even fury in hurricanes, tornadoes and volcanoes. If we simply watch how divine nature works – even just the movement of the sun, moon and stars – we grasp that there is an order to creation and we have only a small part within it. 

+  Second, nature alone should tell us that God has set in motion a way of life with an order that must be honored – a way of living that builds up security and the common good – a system of interacting with others as God relates to us. There is food, there is shelter, there is night, there is day, there is rain and sun and a rhythm to God’s creation – a time to be born, a time to die, a time to laugh, a time to mourn – a time for song as well as silence.

+ Third, when we start acting in ways that violate the rhythm of God’s creation, making our own rules and violating the limits of the world, first we become foolish – and then we become dangerous.  Paul says we become bestial – resembling birds of the air, animals of prey and reptiles.  We become vicious not loving, cruel not just, selfish, confused and afraid rather than souls created in God’s own image to live in harmony with creation.

And as our faith tradition teaches, every time this happens – and it happens repeatedly – God sends us prophets to wake us up. If we listen and get back on track with love, then violence, pollution, fear and social chaos diminishes. But if we choose to stone and murder the prophets – as also happens time and again whether that is Jesus or Harvey Milk or MLK – then God says, in effect, “Ok have it your way.  You take care of creation and one another according to your rules – and let’s see how well that works out for you.” This is our encounter with God’s wrath, the experience of God’s hidden presence in our world and hearts – not out of hatred, however, but out of love – for it is the will of the Lord that we have a change of heart and a change of direction, never simply punishment.

The wrath of God, you see, is about God’s loving choice to be silent after giving us warning after warning after warning – all in the hope that we will become sick and tired of the blood, fear, violence, slaughter, greed, manipulation and despair.  As one social commentator put it recently:  should we ever ask WHY does God let this horror continue, we must be prepared to hear the Lord ask us the very same question in return?  Why do you keep murdering my children? Why do you keep letting the NRA pimp out your politicians? Why do you keep manufacturing semi-automatic assault rifles – and selling them legally to broken and unstable people? Or even known terrorists? Why do YOU – why do WE – keep letting this happen?

+   In the wisdom of St. Paul it has something to do with our tolerance for blood and murder because apparently we haven’t been revolted enough by our own behavior to make courageous changes in gun laws, mental health funding and political policies.  If the reality of 20 massacred first graders didn’t shake us out of our greed and denial, will 50 dead gay dancers from Florida be any different?

+  Claiming to be wise, we became fools; and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images resembling birds, four-footed animals of prey or reptiles. Claiming to be wise, we have become bestial as we experience the absence – or wrath – of the Lord.
We could approach all of this differently, of course:  we could open ourselves to the new commandment of Jesus – to love one another as he has loved us – and hold ourselves and our elected officials and gun manufacturers to the standard of love rather than fear and greed.  Back in 1963, before there was a national Civil Rights law that guaranteed ALL Americans the right to vote, Martin Luther King, Jr. was agitating for federal action. And most of the time what he was told was either “this isn’t the right time, be patient Martin” (how patronizing is that?) or else “the real problem is not changing laws but changing people’s hearts.”  To which Dr. King carefully replied:

 ... the other myth that gets around is the idea that legislation cannot really solve the problem and that it has no great role to play in this period of social change because you’ve got to change the heart and you can’t change the heart through legislation. You can’t legislate morals. The job must be done through education and religion. Well, there’s half-truth involved here. Certainly, if the problem is to be solved then in the final sense, hearts must be changed. Religion and education must play a great role in changing the heart. But we must go on to say that while it may be true that morality cannot be legislated, behavior can be regulated. It may be true that the law cannot change the heart but it can restrain the heartless. It may be true that the law cannot make a man love me but it can keep him from lynching me and I think that is pretty important, also. So there is a need for executive orders. There is a need for judicial decrees. There is a need for civil rights legislation on the local scale within states and on the national scale from the federal government.

People of God, if we were sick and tired of God’s wrath – if we were truly tormented by the innocent deaths of our sisters and brothers in Orlando or Charleston or Tucson or Newtown – if we were genuinely finished with living amidst their blood, we would make certain that by the end of this year assault weapons could no longer be sold in the USA. Would that change a lone wolf, broken and afraid, from committing murder? Not at all – but it would drastically cut down the number of lives he or she could massacre – and it would put our law enforcement advocates on an equal footing with criminals.  Because here is the empirical truth: we are a lazy people –  scientific testing bears this out over and again – as has been shown in a few urban crime zones, when weapons become even incrementally more difficult to obtain, the majority of those who want to use them, give up. Not all, of course, but the majority give up because they are just a little harder to get – and we are a lazy people.  Apparently that is just human nature – so why not work it to our collective safety?

The words of the prophet Isaiah now become instructive for those who have ears to hear: I’ve made myself available, says the Lord, to those who haven’t bothered to ask. I’m here; ready to be found by those who haven’t bothered to look. I kept saying ‘I’m here, I’m right here’ to a nation that ignored me. I reached out day after day to a people who turned their backs on me, people who make wrong turns, who insist on doing things their own way… they make up their own kitchen religion, a potluck religious stew, and spend the night in tombs to get messages from the dead… rather than listen the love of the Lord.

+  How wildly prescient is that text?  Initially Isaiah was prophesying to ancient Israel in
about 539 BCE:  after the people had returned from exile in Babylon – after the city of Jerusalem had been reclaimed and its rebuilding had commenced – after the humiliation of defeat and devastation was supposed to be over. Once the best and the brightest had grieved their loss for a season, God’s promise was that they would be comforted and restored IF they chose to honor the covenant:  If they practiced radical Sabbath living, social compassion and neighborliness for the common good.

+  Why, then, all the pain, fear and continued suffering the people of God asked in confusion?  To which Isaiah mirrors God’s words of wrath:  you are doing this to yourselves!  It is not the LORD, it is you who choose to ignore the importance of Sabbath rest and Sabbath justice. It is you who take up weird religious practices as if you could control the Creator of heaven and earth. It is you who ignore the poor and punish the most vulnerable in your realm. I have made myself and my way available and YOU have ignored me. So your suffering is of your own making.

And then the prophet offers this word of clarity just so that we don’t try to climb off the hook:  blaming God – or terrorists – or immigrants or really anyone else for our own laziness and moral failures changes nothing.  The suffering continues – and the innocent suffer more than the guilty – so what has to happen is that God’s own people must claim their brokenness. We must embrace our complicity in the violence and fear – we must call it out within our tradition – and name it with sorrow and grief before we are ready to change direction and repent.  Blame does not evoke hope. Blame does not solve the violence. Blame does nothing but avoid the truth. Only getting honest about our complicity matters – we used to call it confession back in the day – and it is the only way to reconnect and reorder our lives according to God’s love.  I don’t know if you heard or read what the Roman Catholic Bishop of St. Petersburg, FLA, Robert Lynch, wrote to his brothers and sisters in Orlando:

Our founding parents had no knowledge of assault rifles, which are intended to be weapons of mass destruction. In crafting the Second Amendment to the Constitution, which I affirm, they thought only of the most awkward of pistols and heavy shotguns. I suspect they are turning in their graves if they can but glimpse what their words now protect. It is long past time to ban the sale of all assault weapons, whose use should be available only to the armed forces. If one is truly pro-life, then embrace this issue also and work for the elimination of sales to those who would turn the weapons on innocents. Sadly it is religion, including our own, that targets, mostly verbally, and often breeds contempt for gays, lesbians and transgender people. Attacks today on LGBT men and women often plant the seed of contempt, then hatred, which can ultimately lead to violence.

Without honest confession – what the AA folks calls a fearless moral inventory of all our failures and wounds – we remain in denial – part of the problem rather than part of the healing and solution.  God’s promise of love and comfort is eternal – but not cheap – so the prophet puts it like this: 

Just as one bad apple doesn’t ruin the whole bushel, there are still plenty of good apples left. So I’ll preserve those in Israel who obey me. I won’t destroy the whole nation. I’ll bring out my true children from Jacob and the heirs of my mountains from Judah. My chosen will inherit the land, my servants will move in. The lush valley of Sharon in the west will be a pasture for flocks, and in the east, the valley of Achor, a place for herds to graze. These will be for the people who bothered to reach out to me, who wanted me in their lives, who actually bothered to look for me.

+  And not just in worship alone – but on Park Square – at the voting booth – on the phone and computer with our legislators and newspaper editors.  This is a time for solidarity, not simply prayers. Prayers are essential. Prayers fortify our souls and open our hearts to the healing presence of the Lord.

+  But if we are not linking arms with the LGBTQ and Muslim communities in meaningful and public ways – however small or personal – then we’re not sick and tired of the blood and wrath of the Lord.  We still think that we can fix things – or avoid the horror – according to our own wisdom and strength, while all the evidence points in the opposite direction.

Last Monday someone I have always known as a little girl, who has somehow now become nearly 30 years old, called me from Tucson.  She was a confirmation kid during our time in that oasis in the desert.  Dianne, my wife, served as her confirmation mentor – and they’ve stayed in contact with one another for almost 20 years. She came from a family of religious fundamentalists who are both terrified and hate-filled towards gay, lesbian and transgendered people – and at a very young age this young woman grasped that she was lesbian.  Over the years she has been up and down – involved in some tragic relationships – engaged in serious therapy and made more than her fair share of bad decisions. And through it all, Di has remained her mentor – never judging her but never giving her a pass when she went down dangerous or confusing roads either – just always there as a presence of love and welcome.  So on Monday, after a TON of inner work over the past ten years, including coming-out to her mother who has now disowned her, this young woman is preparing to get married – and she asked me if I would celebrate their marriage vows.

+  Dianne and I have been talking about this for a few months and had pretty much decided that we really couldn’t afford to make a trip to Louisville, KY in the fall:  we have work to do, limited resources and other obligations here. But I have to tell you that after Sunday’s massacre in Orlando, when this old confirmation kid who has been to hell and back tenderly and tentatively asked if I would help her celebrate God’s gift to her of love in her wedding ceremony… without hesitation I said: YES, dear one, of course. It would be my honor and my privilege to stand with you in love.

+  We still don’t have any idea how we’ll afford this – or any of the practical implications – but this is not a time for pecuniary diversions: this is a time when we must stand and deliver in solidarity in our own way with all who are committed to the way of love and responsibility. For some this will be quiet and simple, for others it will be bold and out in the streets, but for all the ways of hatred and fear must be called out with the assurance that God’s love wins.

Conclusion
For that’s precisely the point of today’s Gospel:  Jesus doesn’t stand at a distance from the demon possessed boy – he brings him healing and hope. He doesn’t judge him or ask why the hell a good Jewish boy is living among the pigs in the tombs of a foreign Gentile land? He goes to him and embraces him, finds out his name so that this child is no longer a problem, or a stranger or a sinner – he is simply a broken child of God with a name. Jesus cherishes him – as we have been called to cherish those in the world who are equally afraid and alone and feeling threatened and vulnerable by all the violence around us.  We must come to know our broken community by name – not statistics – but up close and personal.

In time, Jesus calls out the inner demons that are wounding this child – and destroys some of the social problems causing his distress, too:  he sets things in motion so that all that illegal pork is forced to run off a cliff. Now think about that for a moment:  pork, of course, was and is unclean for Jews, so what was this herd of hogs doing just over the border with Israel?  Well, they were contraband, of course, illegal slabs of bacon smuggled across the border and sold on the QT.  Now notice that Jesus had no problem bringing this enterprise to a close:  off the cliff they went – and when that happened, this once naked young man was at peace and sat at the Lord’s feet in conversation. Hmmmm…. Interesting, yes? But two challenges remained:

When the disciples came back and saw this naked man sitting in front of Jesus – who now wanted to sign-up and follow the Master’s group but was told that he first needed to go home and make peace with his family – it dawned on them that THEY were going to be required to ante up in the young man’s renewal.  There were no Wal-Marts or Targets up on that Gentile cliff, so if that boy was going to make it home, the disciples were going to have to give him some of THEIR clothing, right?  Jesus was clear that unless we make this personal – unless we have skin in the game – all we’re doing is avoiding and denying our complicity in the brokenness and suffering.

And to make matters even more challenging, the merchants in contraband bacon suddenly show up and seeing the young man clothed and in his right mind after the pigs had been destroyed, the text tells us they were what?  AFRAID.  Seized with a great fear that demands that Jesus to get outta town.  Not only had Christ broken up their monopoly of power and wealth, he showed them the alternative to fear – embodied love – and when they saw that young man clearly healed, they could no longer pretend there weren’t consequences to their greedy actions.

LOVE matters – LOVE heals – LOVE changes everything and in God’s heart LOVE wins by transforming broken young people caught in the tombs as well as older disciples like you and me so that we call can come into our right minds and challenge the ways of violence and greed. Take on the fear. Call out the hatred in love. 


Tonight on Park Square we opened the vigil with Holy Near’s song, “We Are a Gentle, Angry People.”  I first heard it in 1978 on the night Harvey Milk and Mayor George Moscone were gunned down in the city hall of San Francisco.  Spontaneously people poured into the streets to show that in the face of horror the way of love was stronger:  we are a gentle, angry people and we are singing, singing for our lives. This is a gentle, angry moment, beloved, where the agonizing wrath of God is calling us out to proclaim with bold conviction:  LOVE WINS. LOVE WINS.  LOVE WINS!  

Monday, June 13, 2016

we are a gentle, angry people...

After the Newtown Massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary School that murdered 20 first graders and six adults, some so-called "smart" liberals I know regularly told me that the problem wasn't actually illegal gun ownership in America: registration is up and people are following the law. No, the real issues, they insisted, had to do with mental illness treatment, as well as a cultural divide in America. And as I grieve my sisters and brothers in Orlando the day after 50 LGBTQ dancers were slaughtered and another 53 allies in love were injured, I know that the "smart" people continue to be right. The weapons in question were, indeed, purchased legally and there was, perhaps, a measure of mental instability involved.

Further, I recognize that there is a minor, albeit significant, technical distinction between a military grade assault weapon and the rapid fire weapons unloaded on innocent revelers inside Pulse. I accept, too that in a diverse society, not everyone shares the same ethic of life that I do nor respects an individual's right to love freely, openly and safely. Nevertheless, the time has come to use our laws in the way Dr. King once addressed so that a violent, fear-based culture is held in check. Speaking in 1963, MLK observed that there was a need for civil rights laws saying:

... the other myth that gets around is the idea that legislation cannot really solve the problem and that it has no great role to play in this period of social change because you’ve got to change the heart and you can’t change the heart through legislation. You can’t legislate morals. The job must be done through education and religion. Well, there’s half-truth involved here. Certainly, if the problem is to be solved then in the final sense, hearts must be changed. Religion and education must play a great role in changing the heart. But we must go on to say that while it may be true that morality cannot be legislated, behavior can be regulated. It may be true that the law cannot change the heart but it can restrain the heartless. It may be true that the law cannot make a man love me but it can keep him from lynching me and I think that is pretty important, also. So there is a need for executive orders. There is a need for judicial decrees. There is a need for civil rights legislation on the local scale within states and on the national scale from the federal government.

So from my starting place of compassion - as well as anger and lament - there is now a need to banish the sale and possession of easily manipulated assault weapons in the USA.  (check it out here: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/rev-dr-susan-brooks-thistlethwaite/ban-assault-weapons-now-a_b_10443846.html) And while this would best be done by a truly grassroots effort, there is no reason to believe that 50 gay murders will be any more compelling to the NRA and its legions than the sight of twenty first graders lying in their own blood in a Connecticut elementary school. Straight allies need to get off the dime on this. Smart liberals need to get out of their heads and get into the streets (while using their wisdom to advance the cause, too.) And obstructionists need to get out of the way because enough is enough. The perverted use of the Second Amendment must come to a close and our bondage to the ghouls driving the NRA must be broken.

Sunday, June 12, 2016

listening to the faith, love and doubt in your life...

Here are my worship notes for this morning: it was a joy and privilege to baptize a young
family - father, daughter and son - in our old Sanctuary.  And it happened again: some of those who are not a part of the regular community - as well as a few who are hurting deeply in various ways - "heard" the call of God's presence for them while others went away perplexed. And later this week I'll start a conversation with another person who has is discerning a call to ordained ministry. A challenging and paradoxical time, to be sure. I can't help but hear St. Dylan's singing, "Something's going on all around you and you don't know what it is... do you, Mr. Jones?"

Introduction
This week marked the 34th anniversary of my ordination into Christian ministry as pastor and teacher:  it has been my privilege to serve four congregations – six including my two internships during seminary – and all in wildly different parts of the United States.  I was first a seminary youth minister in Darien, CT, then an exchange student in San Jose, Costa Rica, and finally an assistant pastor at a large, inter-racial urban church in Jamaica, Queens, New York.  

Over the next three decades, God called me to serve rust belt communities like Saginaw, MI as well as the economically challenged urban center of Cleveland, OH.  We spent 10 years in the desert southwest in an oasis known as Tucson, AZ and now it has been nearly nine years in the green hills of the Berkshires. One of the unique joys for me in presiding at the ordination ceremony of Robert Hyde last weekend was that it was both a sacred celebration for Robert as he begins his journey of service and ministry in Christ’s name, and also an unexpected invitation for me to look backwards upon the trajectory of my own years in ministry.  The bard of Vermont, Frederick Buechner, once called us all to:  “Listen to our lives with care and insight.”

Listen… and see (your life) for the fathomless mystery it is. In the boredom and pain of it, no less than in the excitement and gladness: touch, taste and smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it, because in the last analysis all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace… There is not event so common-place but that God is present within it, always hiddenly, always leaving you room to recognize him or not to recognize him, but all the more fascinatingly because of that!

It was an insightful exercise for me. And while I promise not to get all doe-eyed and nostalgic on you, I do want to share one observation that I hope resonates:  it would seem that I, like First Church itself, have been on a journey from big acts of ministry towards small acts of tenderness.  Theologically it has been for me a pilgrimage from feeling driven to do bold and dramatic things for God, to a life where I cherish doing quiet and beautiful things for the Lord.  When I was president of the student body at Union Theological Seminary, the professor of homiletics – that is, preaching – the great Jim Forbes of the Riverside Church in NYC, called me into his office one day and asked:  “Lumsden, why are you so busy?”
 
At first I didn’t know what to say, so Dr. Forbes continued: “You are a father of two small children, a husband, an assistant pastor, a student and president of the student body – and now they tell me you are organizing a bus to go to a demonstration in Washington, DC to protest aid to the contras in Nicaragua, is that right?” “Yes, sir” was all I could say. To which he replied with clarity and compassion, “Son, there’s plenty of time after you leave seminary to get yourself killed if that’s what you want. Why not use this time to slow down, savor your studies and learn something you don’t already know. Even Gandhi took a break in his battle against the Brits to get some perspective and soul food. Why don’t you do likewise?”  I didn’t have an adequate response then – and for after-wards decades I was haunted by his words – because they were so prophetic.

I didn’t change my activity much in seminary and kept at it after graduation, too. In Saginaw, I threw myself into anti-nuke activities and participated in two different peace vigils to the former Soviet Union – one of which involved taking 50 high school teens and their parents from our church to Russian in the middle of the winter. In Cleveland, beyond our ministry to street kids, I got elected to the Board of Education in an inter-racial reform team and took two more groups to the Soviet Union as well.  When we went to Tucson, I served a large church with 250 people attending two very different worship services – and took on the job of Moderator of the South-west Conference of the United Church of Christ, too.

And, truth be told, when we came here, even though I was moving away from my obsessions with doing something BIG and BOLD for God (and trying to kill myself with busyness), I still believed that we could beat the demographics of the Berkshires, beef up our worship and stewardship numbers in significant ways and rebrand First Church as THE place to be on Sunday mornings.But that hasn’t really happened, right?  Yes, we’ve become Open and Affirming – to be sure we’ve been on the cutting edge of bringing to birth the first grassroots community organization for social justice in the Berkshires – and we’ve created a well-respected new ministry of music and solidarity in the region. But we haven’t been able to overcome the demographics or trends that drive people away from religion in our culture. 

And for a few years, our more humble successes started to drive me crazy because I felt like a failure.  Not so much anymore, because it is clear to me that this is a time for doing something beautiful for the Lord - something tender and even something hidden rather than public – but for a while it was a challenge. 

These days I’m rather fond of the Psalmist’s song we heard earlier:  Do not be like a horse or a mule without understanding whose temper must be curbed with a bit and bridle else it will not stay near you… but be glad and rejoice in the Lord.  Psalm 32 opens with a small Hebrew word, asher, that is often translated “happy” or even “blessed.”  But asher cuts deeper than feelings – it literally means to take a straight path in life – and path that turns away from selfishness and stupidity, and lives into God’s grace.  The blessings suggested by asher are not emotions, but the result of being guided and disciplined by the unforced rhythms of grace.

Psalm One amplifies this using the same word to kick things off:  Blessed are those who do not follow the advice of the wicked, or take the path that sinners tread, or sit in the seat of scoffers; their delight is in the law of the Lord, the practice of God’s way, and they meditate on God’s guidance both day and night. They are like trees planted by streams of water, which yield their fruit in its season and their leaves do not wither.

Jesus says much the same thing when he begins the Sermon on the Mount:  blessed are those… who know that they’re at the end of their rope; with less of you there’s more room for God.  And blessed are those who can show others how to cooperate instead of compete and fight – that’s when you all discover that you are a part of God’s family.

To be blessed, you see, is to know God’s grace and love inside you and then practice sharing that grace by the way you live. Blessing is a commitment to gratitude, the practice of spreading the beauty of God’s grace by how you choose to live.  St. Paul speaks of this as living as God’s new creation – people who can rejoice in the Lord always – because their lives are moving in God’s guidance.

Insights
 Now in order to live as God’s new creation, real people need a vision to practice and help organize their thoughts, habits, and actions. The wisdom tradition of ancient Israel clearly states that without a vision, the people perish. They flounder and get caught up in fears and anxieties or else turn towards selfishness, hatred and acts of aggression.  That is what both readings from the Old and New Testaments articulate: without an inner experience of trusting God’s grace and an outward vision to shape and guide us, we will become our worst selves.
In the Elijah, Ahab and Jezebel cycle this is expressed when Israel’s king – the one appointed to protect God’s people – chooses the way of greed and death over compassion and integrity.  And we need a word of context to make sense of this story because this is not about a real estate deal gone bad.

In ancient Israel people didn’t treat land like we do today in 21st century America. The land was
a sacred trust given to families passed on from one generation to the next. Bound by both religious law and tradition, these ancestral lands provided security and livelihood, farms for food and pasture to raise crops for sale, and could not be sold.  If the people of Israel kept the covenant – essentially honoring the Sabbath and living as good neighbors – then God would preserve them.  So let’s be clear that what King Ahab was proposing was against the law of the land.  And to make matters worse, Ahab was Israel’s king – appointed and anointed to uphold the covenant – and he was trying to cut a deal because he wanted a kitchen garden.

+ So Naboth wasn’t being cranky or uncooperative: he was walking the path of blessing – maintaining the covenant – honoring the way of asher – the practice of blessing.  And just to make matters worse, Ahab’s queen, Jezebel, hated the God of Israel.  My wife, Dianne, tells me that Jezebel was the Hebrew Bible’s equivalent of Cruella DeVille from 101 Dalmatians.  Just mean-spirited, self-centered and evil.

+ Now, did you grasp the vicious and bloody scheme she cooks up to violate the commandments and get rid of Naboth in the process?  Jezebel first yells at Ahab – dude, aren’t you the king? – you can do whatever you want – then she puts into action a plan for Naboth to be murdered so that Ahab can take possession of the vineyard.  And just so that we don’t miss the horrific consequences of all this, the text keeps telling us that the reason why Ahab wanted Naboth’s ancestral vineyard is because the king wanted to plant a vegetable garden.

So we have a king violating the commandments for some tomatoes, a queen plotting murder because she hates Israel’s religion and an innocent farmer’s family losing their land and their livelihood because no one would stand up for justice. The practice of blessing had fallen into disrepair in the land – and the result was murder – plain and simple.  That’s one of the powerful insights we inherit from the prophetic tradition, if we’re paying attention: namely that God’s people do not separate the social from the spiritual because ALL of life is to be lived as a blessing.  The great Protestant reformers called this becoming a living doxology:  praising the Lord with the content of our lives.  Bishop Desmond Tutu of South Africa put it like this: 

I don’t preach a social gospel; I preach the Gospel, period. The gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ is concerned for the whole person. When people were hungry, Jesus didn’t say, ‘Now is that political or social?’ He said, ‘I feed you’ because the good news to a hungry person is bread.

A living doxology means that social justice is simply the praise we share in the marketplace or the corridors of power.  Sometimes praise looks like writing or singing hymns, but it also looks like taking on the Keystone Pipeline. A living doxology might involve feeding the hungry, challenging the greed of the 1% or burning incense, baptizing babies or silent prayer. It might take place on a Sunday morning, but is no less real on a picket line for marriage equality.

ALL that we do in life – all the small things as well as the grand – are to be doxology:  ASHER – praising the Lord with our entire being.  In the Ahab and Jezebel story, if the appointed leader, the king, refused to deliver and serve Yahweh as Lord, then God would raise up a prophet who would. In this case Elijah, whose Hebrew name means: MY God is Yahweh - 'Eliyyahu. – The one who is guided on God’s path of grace and calls out the corruption of the hour by offering an alternative that restores doxology to the land. 

That same commitment to doxology is at work in Luke’s story of the woman anointing Christ’s feet with perfumed oil:  only this time we’re shown what happens when asher is celebrated and embodied.  If we read this encounter carefully we discover that apparently this woman of the streets has already been forgiven her many sins by Jesus.  That’s what it says in verse 47: I tell you, her sins which were many, have been forgiven – and that’s why she’s showing such great love.  We don’t know the where or the when, but it sounds like at some point in the past Jesus met her – talked with her and showed her another path – and she turned her life around in order to walk in the way of blessing.

And again, this story like the other offers us a clear contrast so that we don’t miss the point – and it comes in the so-called religious man, Simon the Pharisee.  Jesus in unambiguous:  Simon, you have the property, you threw the feast and by religious obligation you were required to have my feet washed – but you chose not to do it – and not out of neglect, but as a choice. You didn’t share a kiss of welcome with me either. But this once broken woman, who is still despised, she not only bathed my feet with her tears, she dried them with her hair – and then anointed my feet with costly oil.  Her faith – that is, her commitment to asher – a disciplined adherence to living as a new creation in grace - has made her whole.

Without a vision, the people perish; without the guidance of God’s blessing, we don’t know how to become a living doxology.  So how do we practice living as doxology in our era?  How are we to embody a faith that not only celebrates God’s love in a broken and all too busy world but does so in a 21st century context? How are we to live in harmony with people of differing faith traditions or no obvious faith at all in a post-modern world that mistrusts religion and calls all meta-narratives into question?  Or even how do we reclaim the blessings of Jesus in a culture contaminated with the blood of Ahab and Jezebel? Last week I used the notion of living into the way of the Cross as short hand.  I told you that the way of the Cross trusts that God isn’t finished with us yet. It is the spirituality of Psalm 22 – the unity of both Good Friday and Easter – the Passion and the Resurrection – that has been distilled into five words:  let go and let God.

There wasn’t time last to say this, but I understand that not everyone gets or even appreciates aphorisms or affirmations, ok?  Some of us yearn for the wisdom that beneath these short sayings.  As they used to say during some algebra exams:  I want to see your work. So let me give you another take on the wisdom beneath the simplicity of a spirituality of the Cross – a theologically sophisticated and rich articulation of what it means to practice the way of asher in our time – a commitment to living into the blessings of grace.  It was summarized first by the Apostle Paul in I Corinthians as faith, hope and love and then fleshed out for our era by the contemporary Canadian theologian, Douglas John Hall, who describes living as doxology like this in his book, The Cross in Our Context:

The best way that I have found of conveying what it means to live into the vision of Christ’s Cross is by considering the so-called virtues of faith, hope and love in the light of what they are each negating. Unless the negation of each is understood, the positive statement of this vision is cheapened and made into a cliché. Fortunately, we do not have to speculate about what the virtues of faith, hope and love negate, for in each case the negation is clearly present in the collected works of St. Paul; and as the New Testament’s chief exemplar of this “thin tradition,” Paul speaks for all who have been grasped by the principles of the way of the Cross.

Hall is telling our generation that to practice the way of the Cross – to live into the discipline of God’s blessings as new creations who choose to let go and let God – requires nuance and tenderness. Specifically, it is essential to be guided by the via negativa – a path of understanding God’s truth shaped by what is obvious AND by what remains mysterious – a spirituality that is rational as well as mystical – paradoxical as well as analytical – a discipline that honors the seen and unseen rhythms of grace.  I think he is on to something crucial, so please listen carefully to how he makes sense of faith, hope and love in the 21st century.

First there is faith – and what does this term negate? The metaphor that crops up in Paul’s writings is “sight.” Faith, which “comes by hearing” (that is, by listening to the stories of how God’s grace has touched real people) is precisely a not-seeing. “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen,” Paul writes in the letter to the Hebrews.  And what this describes is a trust that is not elevated beyond its proper limit. The act of trusting and the One trusted, is glimpsed—as through a glass darkly - but not seen face to face. Faith that is not sight is thus a trust in God that warns us against presumption. It is a faith that is able to live with its antithesis, doubt, so that we never act like we alone have a monopoly upon truth.  (Are you with me?  First we practice trust knowing that we do not have all the answers – and can never have all the answers – because we are not the Lord. 

Second there is hope:  hope is at once an orientation to the future and a recognition that the present is still lacking its promised fulfillment.  Hope realized is no longer hope. The stance that we call hope is one constantly made conscious of the fact that the present is always a falling-short of what is most to be desired. So the hope that is faith’s future dimension is always “hope against hope” (Rom 4:18). So, just as faith must live with doubt, so hope must live with its antithesis, hopelessness or despair. Further, what is hoped for must not be taken for granted. (There is always more of God’s grace than what is obvious as this moment – or any moment – is never the end of the story.)

And third there is love:  love negates many things as Paul makes so plain in the famous hymn to love in 1 Corinthians 13. “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.But I think that what must receive priority here is power: “Love does not insist on its own way.” “Power or control is the antithesis of God’s love. The crux of the cross,” wrote Reinhold Niebuhr “is its revelation of the fact that the final power of God over human beings is derived not from control but from the self-imposed weakness of God’s love.” God freely chooses to suffer in order to strengthen love and this is complicated for all to accept if we think chiefly in terms of power, omnipotence, almighty-ness. If God is love, how-ever, then the divine power must accommodate itself to divine love and not vice versa – that is basic.

I’ve printed those out for you to ponder as the week unfolds: faith, hope and love – what is seen
and what is unseen – what we can comprehend and what is beyond our comprehension – is how we practice living tenderly and humbly and blessedly into the way of the Cross. Such a spirituality fits with this moment in history. It makes sense for us as a faith community.  We are no longer FIRST Church – the founders and propagators of the faith in Pittsfield and the Berkshires in a big and bold way – rather we are a collection of broken, wounded, loving, gentle, creative, beautiful, blessed but often confused people celebrating God’s grace and trusting that God’s love goes beyond our capacity to comprehend or see.  I like the way Niebuhr distilled the essence of faith, hope and love for our generation saying:

Nothing that is worth doing can be achieved in our lifetime; therefore we must be saved by hope. Nothing which is true or beautiful or good makes complete sense in any immediate context of history; therefore we must be saved by faith. Nothing we do, however virtuous, can be accomplished alone; therefore we must be saved by love. No virtuous act is quite as virtuous from the standpoint of our friend or foe as it is from our standpoint. Therefore we must be saved by the final form of love which is forgiveness.

Conclusion
As I have discovered in my own ministry, this small and tender way of being a believer is liberating. Do your part, trust the Lord, let go and let God.  There is a beautiful sermon that another wounded healer, the theologian Paul Tillich, once offered up that is illuminating, so let me close with his words:

One of Martin Luther’s most profound insights was that God made himself small for us in Christ. In doing so, He left us our freedom and our humanity. He showed us His heart, so that our hearts could be won. When we look at the misery of our world, its evil and its sin, especially in these days which seem to mark the end of a world period, we long for divine interference, so that the world and its daemonic rulers might be overcome. We long for a king of peace within history, or for a king of glory above history. We long for a Christ of power. Yet if He were to come and transform us and our world, we should have to pay the one price we could not pay: we would have to lose our freedom, our humanity, and our spiritual dignity. Perhaps we would be happier; but we should also be lower beings, our present misery, struggle and despair notwithstanding. We should be more like blessed animals than men and women made in the image of God. Those who dream of a better life and try to avoid the Cross as a way, and those who hope for a Christ and attempt to exclude the Crucified, have no knowledge of the mystery of God and or humanity. 

In our day I am more convinced than ever that we have been called to reclaim a theology of the cross that looks to faith but not sight – to hope but not consummation - and to love but not power or control.  Let our lives be a humble but joyful doxology to the Lord, beloved, as we stand and proclaim our faith in song.

the wisdom and grace of mystery...

In this week's summary of reflections at the Center for Contemplation and Action, Barbara Brown Taylor's synthesis of the apophatic ...