salvagedfaith

Mystery: Deserted

Posted on November 11, 2018Leave a comment

“Justice too long delayed is justice denied.”
If you never have an opportunity to make your case…
If you are never allowed to truly be heard and seen…
If you believe that if someone just listened to you, they would see what was wrong…

Job cries out for justice.
He cries out for a hearing, a trial, an opportunity to lay out his case before the Lord.
And the days and weeks pass and no one is listening.
No one is paying attention to his pleas.
No one truly sees his struggle.

His friends try.
In fact, for 29 chapters there is a back and forth between Job and his friends.
They take turns speaking, lifting up platitudes, calling Job to repentance… and after each speech, Job responds in turn… his frustration growing with every sentence.

You see, Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar, believe that God is a God of justice, like Job does.
A God of retributive justice.
You get what you deserve.
If you live a righteous life, then you are blessed with peace and prosperity.
If you do unrighteous things, if you sin, then you are punished.

And those friends are looking at Job’s sorry state – his loss of family and income and now bodily distress.
Seeing all of that pain and misery, they conclude that if he is suffering, it has to be because he has done something wrong.
They take turns, but each one of them makes the case, that Job must be reaping something he himself has sown.

Don’t we do that?
When we see someone who has an unfortunate life experience or seems to be down on their luck, isn’t our first response to wonder what mistakes they might have made or how they got themselves into that situation?
We make assumptions about the cause of another person’s anguish, instead of simply being present and listening to them.
These friends… they don’t listen.
They don’t question their own assumptions.
Instead, they leap to intervention.
They see just how much harm has come into Job’s life.
Each one feels like they now have a burden to uncover his sin, point it out, so that Job can repent of that sin.
And this is because while they believe God is just, they also believe God is merciful.
“Happy is the person whom God corrects; so don’t reject the Almighty’s instruction. He injuries but he binds up; he strikes, but his hands heal.” (Job 5:17-18)
If they can get Job to repent, they believe they will save his life.

But for every one of their speeches, Job has an answer.
He has done nothing wrong.
Can’t they see that?
Can’t God see that?
We get a glimpse of his responses in our scripture reading for today. In yet another of these cycles where his friends speak and he responds, Job declares he is innocent and he demands justice… but God won’t even show up in his life so that Job can question him and lay out the case for his innocence.

“Justice too long delayed is justice denied.”

Those words from legal wisdom were echoed by the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. as he sat in a jail cell in Birmingham, Alabama.
He, too, is responding to friends – colleagues – the white Jewish and Christian leaders of the day, who had criticized the methods and timing of the demonstrations taking place in the city.
Dr. King was seeking justice for those who were suffering from racial injustice and segregation in the city, and was willing to put his own life and liberty on the line for the freedom of others.
What he encountered instead, was that people who should have been on his side – namely the white moderates – were instead finding all sorts of reasons to delay justice.
Like Job’s friends, they were making all sorts of assumptions about what was the cause of injustice and what might remedy it.
This isn’t the right path of action.
You aren’t the right person for the task.
It isn’t the right time.

He answers every single one of their charges and then finally turns his attention to this question of waiting.
“There comes a time,” Dr. King writes, “when the cup of endurance runs over and men are no longer willing to be plunged into an abyss of despair.”

There comes a time when you simply can’t wait any longer.
When the delay of justice becomes a denial of justice.
When it feels like no one is listening and you have been absolutely deserted.

That loneliness can be found in Dr. King’s letter.
We see it throughout Job’s pleas to God.
We can also hear it in the words of Christ on the cross, echoing the psalmist – “My God, My God, why have you left me?”

You see, along the path towards true justice are moments of doubt when we aren’t sure we can keep going.
The fight appears too daunting.
The resistance is overwhelming.
There is no energy left to carry on.
And the loneliness… maybe that is the worst part.
Feeling like you are in this all by yourself and that there is no one out there to help you and no one out there is even listening.
But you also can’t wait any longer.

That desperation is all over Job’s pleas that we read in our passage of scripture today.
He wants his day in court.
He still, firmly, unwaveringly believes that God is a God of justice and if he could only make his case that he would be justified.

In many ways, Job helps us to find our way forward in our own times of great agony.
When we don’t receive answers those deep questions about why something is happening, we could choose to turn our back on God altogether.
We could also resign ourselves and simply give in – This must be what God wants, I guess I should just accept it… in fact, remember this was Job’s initial response when everything was taken from him.

Or, we can resist the suffering we see in our life or in the life of others. We can actively fight against it while at the same time clinging to our faith….
Rev. Nathalie Nelson Parker sees this paradox through the lens of theologian Martin Buber: “’Job’s faith in Justice is not broken down. But he is no longer able to have a single faith in God and Justice.’ Although God and Justice are not mutually aligned in his current situation, ‘He cannot forego his claim that they will again be united, somewhere, sometime, although he has no idea in his mind how this will be achieved.’”

Or as Dr. King once said, the moral arc of the universe is long, but it bends towards Justice.

In the face of suffering, it is hard to cling to hope.
It is hard to see God’s presence.
Both Job and Dr. King remind us of the persistent struggle to be seen, to be heard, to be known… and what it means to keep fighting, even when you feel like you are fighting all along.

I think for many of us, the question, however, isn’t what it means to be the one who sits in lament and struggle, but what it means to be the friends and the bystanders… the ones who so often make assumptions about where God is and what is really happening.

Rather than making excuses for God…
Rather than making assumptions about what is wrong in the lives of other people…
Rather than pushing our own understanding of what is right and wrong…
Maybe what we should do is sit back and listen.
Listen to the cries of suffering and injustice.
Listen to what those who are oppressed or struggling would like us to do.
Listen for where God might be calling us to lay aside our own assumptions.
Simply listen.
May it be so. Amen.

Mystery: Disoriented

Posted on November 4, 2018Leave a comment

Text: Job 1:1, 2:1-10

Throughout this month of November, we are going to be exploring the mystery of God’s presence and power and how unbelievable difficult it is to wrap our minds around. Through the book of Job, we will let ourselves be taken through a range of human emotions: grief, anger, humility, and love.
But above all, we are going to be wrestling with questions and not answers.
God’s questions of us.
The questions Job gets from his friends.
Our questions of God.
The questions we share about the whys and hows of this world.

Along the way, I’m going to invite us to rest in the mystery of God’s presence and promise and power… instead of jumping immediately to the answers. In fact… we might leave here today with even more questions to wrestle with… and that’s not a bad thing.

Will you pray with me…

In my early twenties I was living in Nashville and attending seminary. I had a trip scheduled to head back home for fall break and I was looking forward to some time away in a familiar place.
While I was there, my grandfather took a turn for the worse. Deda had struggled for a long time with diabetes and after a number of surgeries and amputations, infection was destroying his body.
My dad and I were able to drive to the hospital and spend the entire day with him. We watched the Hawkeyes win and we held his hand and tried to just be there for him. Two days later, he was gone.
I sat with family and planned the service. I gave a eulogy at the funeral. We laid him to rest.

All of this happened while I was away on our holiday break and when I came back to Nashville, it was like stepping into a different world.
I was heading back to a place where no one knew my Deda. No one even really knew how sick he had been.
I hadn’t missed any classes. I didn’t have to check in with any professors.
Even my work-study job didn’t notice that a significant experience
And heading back to that place where no one else understood my grief or my loss was disorienting.
So disorienting in fact, that just a day after arriving back in town, I tried to leave church without talking to anyone. I just didn’t want to get into it and explain it over and over again.
This is going to sound strange, but I wanted comfort and condolences, but not if I was going to have to rehearse the story to get them. I wanted a hug… but no one knew that I needed one.
So I rushed out the door… I quickly backed out of the parking spot… and accidently ran into a large concrete parking barrier… doing a couple thousand dollars of damage to my fiancé’s car.

Every single one of us, at some point in our lives, have moments of disorientation.
The loss of a job.
The death of a loved one.
Sending a child off to college.
Stubbing your toe on a nightstand in the middle of the night.

Disorientation is when we lose our sense of direction and are no longer sure which way is up, down, or sideways.
We find ourselves unsure of the next step.
We can’t quite get a handle on how to function in a new or changing role.
And sometimes, in the process of being disoriented, we find ourselves turning away… running away… from the very things that have been our source of help and strength – our anchor in the storm.
Sometimes, we find ourselves stubbornly clinging to something we thought we knew or an old way of functioning… even when it no longer serves our needs in a new context.

We should expect a bit of disorientation from Job as we begin to explore his story this week.
There once was a man who lived in the land of Uz…
It sounds like the start of a fairy tale, doesn’t it?
And in some ways it is.
The book of Job is not meant to be a historical factual retelling of actual events, but a work of philosophy told as a drama… think of Antigone by Sophocles or Candide by Voltaire. Through the lens of the characters, the audience has an opportunity to wrestle themselves with questions of life.

We are introduced to Job, a perfect man, with a perfect life, and perfect wife and family. He was honest and he feared God. He even offered extra offerings on a regular basis on behalf of his children… just in case they had made a mistake and had been unfaithful to God.
But as the story unfolds, there is a sort of wager made in heaven.
The Lord is so proud of how faithful Job has been, but the Adversary – the Accuser – ha Satan – has some questions.
Is Job only able to be so faithful because he has never faced difficulty?
What would happen if he were truly tested?
The Lord agrees to let the Adversary bring destruction upon Job so they might see what would happen.
First, his herds are stolen and his servants killed.
Then, his children are killed when a wind comes and collapses the house they are in.
But instead of cursing God, instead of being angry, he laments and blesses God’s name.
Our scripture picks up after these events.
Alright, the Adversary, acknowledges… he was able to remain faithful – but those were just things. We took away from Job… but we didn’t actually harm HIM.
If he was truly tested… bodily tested… in the flesh… then Job would turn away from the Lord.

This is one of those places where I start to have more questions.
Job has done nothing wrong.
The suffering and the loss he is experiencing is completely undeserved.
And yet God allows it to happen.

Job is stricken with sores from head to toe – so severe that they are only soothed by taking a broken piece of pottery and scraping at them. I mean… gross…
And still, he refuses to turn away from his faith.
He refuses to be angry at God.
He clings to his beliefs – in good times and in bad, he says.

Job’s pain is so excruciating the scripture tells us that he couldn’t stand up or lie down. His friends couldn’t recognize him when they came to visit. He was utterly broken.
Can you imagine his pain?
Can you imagine his confusion – why are these things happening to me?
What did I or my children or my ancestors do to deserve this?
How can I possibly move forward or rebuild my life after what has happened?

Into this moment, his wife speaks.
Mrs. Job invites him to curse God and die.
Now, those might seem like harsh words… but remember she, too, has experienced unbearable loss.
Her children have died, too.
Her flocks and livelihood have been stripped away.
Her husband is suffering in unimaginable pain.
She is angry and heartbroken and confused and just as disoriented as Job.

And so she encourages him to let it out… let out all of that pain and grief and anger.
Shout at the heavens! she cries.
Let go of your stubbornness and integrity.
Demand that God tell you why you are being tested so.

We sometimes hear her words and cringe… We can’t question God like that!
Curse God? Doesn’t that lead to destruction?
And yet, the Lord has no harsh words for Mrs. Job.
As our story unfolds in the next few weeks, what we discover is that perhaps Job is stubbornly clinging to an old understanding of faith that is no longer adequate for the suffering of this world.
It will only be when he does open himself up to reach out and question God that he finally is able to re-orient himself to a new reality.

In the midst of the disorientation of our lives, it is hard to know where to turn.
Sometimes we are tempted to completely turn away from God.
Sometimes, we find ourselves stubbornly clinging to old ways and in the process close ourselves off from change and possibility.
In fact, I think that if Job simply sat there in the ashes and the dust and refused to engage God in questions, his relationship with God would have become stagnant, wrote, expected.

I think part of what we are invited to discover in these chapters is that things happen in our lives that are completely out of our control.
We don’t always know why.
We can’t always understand.
But every moment of disorientation contains within it the opportunity to re-orient ourselves upon our Creator, our Redeemer, our Sustainer.
If we are lucky, the relationship we have with God when it is all said and done will be deeper and more faithful than when we began.
We will let go of our assumptions and we will allow our lives and our hearts to be expanded in the process – to become more compassionate, more humble, more faithful.

So stick with us for a few more weeks as we continue this journey through Job. Next week, we jump a ways ahead to chapter 23 – so take some time this week on your own time to read some of these chapters in between.
Sit with Job in his suffering.
Listen to the words of his friends and ask how you would feel if they were spoken to you.
And open up your heart for how God might be speaking to your pain, your sorrow, and your disorientation.
Let yourself feel it.
Let yourself experience it.
Let yourself sit in the mystery.

YES! We Are Able!

Posted on October 28, 2018Leave a comment

Text: Deuteronomy 8:11-18 and Mark 10:23-31

Last week, Pastor Lee from Women at the Well shared with us part of the story of the rich, young, ruler in Mark’s gospel.
This morning, we hear the second half of that story… the response of the disciples… our response… to the invitation Jesus offers this faithful follower.

Will you pray with me?

Over these last few weeks, we have been hanging out with the gospel of Mark and the challenging ways that Jesus calls us to follow.
Are we able to take up our cross and drink the cup of suffering?
Are we able to stand up for our selves or others?
Are we able to embrace difference and let others lead?
Are we able to see the vulnerable around us, especially children, and to see their gifts along with their needs?
Are we able to hear the truth about that one darned thing in our lives that keeps us from saying, “YES” with all our heart, mind, soul, and strength?

And after walking with Jesus through these chapters, I’m not surprised if we, like the disciples find ourselves frustrated when he tells us, “Children, it’s difficult to enter God’s kingdom!”
Whatever happened to, “My yoke is easy and my burden is light?”
Where are the promises that we will led beside the still waters and into green pastures?
Like James and John and Matthew and Andrew we cry out – “Then who on earth can be saved, Jesus?”

Because as must as we try, we find it awfully difficult to sacrifice our own well-being for the sake of others.
Fear keeps us from standing up for others or for ourselves.
Our need for control and stability gets in the way of our willingness to embrace and celebrate the differences among us.
We worry about what will happen if we let the kids run amok in our midst.
We are comfortable… oh so comfortable… with that one blasted thing that keeps us from standing in the life-giving stream of God’s love and grace and power.

Who can be saved?
Who is able?
Can anyone among us truly say, “YES?”

And then Jesus looks at us carefully. The Greek word here, emblepo, indicates that he is looking searchingly… clearly… directly into our very hearts….

“With human beings it’s impossible.”
We can’t do it.
There is nothing we can do or give or accomplish that will earn us a spot in God’s kingdom.
We are not able.

And that’s why the second half of Jesus’ words are so important:
“but… All things are possible with God.”

You see, our ability to be saved, our ability to enter God’s kingdom, our ability to follow Jesus, our ability to provide for ourselves or our families… none of it comes from us.
Nothing we are and nothing we have is the result of our own effort or striving or accomplishment.
It is all because of God.

As the early Hebrew community was told as they were being led out of Egypt, we need to remember, we need to never forget that it was God who rescued us from Egypt.
It was God who led us through the desert.
It was God who made water flow out of rock and sent mana from heaven.
It was God that led some people from Burns UMC out to a farmhouse on 49th Street to start a new faith community.
It was God that helped us lay the cornerstone for a new church to meet a growing worshipping congregation in 1968.
It was God that gave us the ability to build and pay for Faith Hall a decade ago.
It was God that has formed the faith of generations of children… who in turn have brought their children and grandchildren back to this place.
It was God that gave us the very breath of life and it is God that gives us the ability to work and to serve and to love and to follow.

Moses tells those Israelites in the desert – when you look around at your houses and your tables set full of food and when everything around you is thriving, don’t you dare think that it was your own strength or ability that accomplished these things.
Remember your God.
God is the one who has given us strength.
God is the one who has made us able.
God is the one who calls us… and then God equips us to answer, to follow, to say YES.

You know… I look out at the world on a week like this when evil and hatred and violence seem to be winning and I almost want to give up.
I don’t think I have the ability to stand in the gap.
I don’t have the energy to keep speaking out for the way of love and hope.
I don’t know how to change the hearts of others.

Do you ever feel that way?

But then, I come to worship.
I come to this place.
I hear these words of scripture.
I see your faces.
I sing with all of my heart these songs.

And I remember that it’s not all up to me.
It’s not my ability or skills or talents that will change this world.
But God can.
And God will.
If I just open up my life a little bit to let God use me.
If I set my fear and hesitation and need for control to the side and let God work through me.
If I place these gifts in God’s hands…
If I turn to others gathered here…
If we start with the things God has already given us the ability to do…
If we allow ourselves to be pulled, stretched, called…
If we count all of the blessings God has poured out into our life and if we just let go and trust…
God is able.
And God makes us able.

Able to give back.
Able to reach out in love.
Able to shine light in darkness.
Able to offer hope in the midst of despair.
Yes, Lord, We are Able…
And it is all because of You.
Thanks be to God… Amen.

YES! We Are Able to Care for Our Children

Posted on October 15, 20181 Comment

Text: Mark 9: 33-37, 42-43, 10:13-16

For twenty-seven years, faith communities across the United States have been observing the “Children’s Sabbath,” lifting a united voice of concern for the children in our midst.
Marian Wright Edleman has been instrumental in this work throughout her life. She recalls in a letter of introduction to this year’s observation that fifty years from Dr. King’s Poor People’s Campaign, we are still in the midst of the struggle to end racism, materialism, poverty, and war.
“Many are driven to despair,” she writes, “by assaults on children and family well-being – including rampant and resurgent racism; the devastations of poverty…; the daily, deadly toll of gun violence…; and the heartless ripping of children from the arms of parents seeking refuge in our country. But this time demands that we persist in hope, not despair, and fight with all our nonviolent might until justice is won.”
“All children deserve lives of hope, not despair,” Edleman proclaims.
All children.

So this morning, we are joining together with Buddhists, Hindus, Muslims, Jews, and other Christians to remember that all children are precious in God’s sight and to answer the call to make a positive impact on their lives.

Our faith, after all, demands that we think about the children.

In the gospel of Mark, which we have been following during this fall series, includes not one, not two, but three different instances in which Jesus prioritizes ministry to and with children… that that’s just in two chapters.
We are called to welcome children, to build them up rather than tear them down, and to even become like them.
The children around us… our children… teach us about what it means to be faithful.
And deciding to follow Jesus means being willing to say that YES!, we are able to set aside our desires and plans and limited vision and open our hearts and our lives to the needs and the gifts of the children around us.

There is another key part of these passages that might be difficult, but it is important to highlight. Our responsibility to care for these children… to set aside our agendas… to prioritize their needs… and to not impair them from abundant life… it isn’t an option.
It is a central part of our faith.
And Jesus even says that if we get in the way of these little ones – well, our own souls are at risk.
It’s that important.

So, I want to take some time this morning to talk about how we, through both the larger United Methodist Church and right here in our local community, how we can say YES! to Jesus by being in ministry with all of God’s children. I want to lift up ways we can “persist in hope, not despair.”

This past week, I was in Atlanta for our fall board meeting of Global Ministries and I want to begin by telling you about signs of hope and good news I saw through our connectional ministries.
Our Global Health Unit has a strong focus on maternal and child health and many health systems are being strengthened because of the funds that we have raised through Imagine No Malaria and other initiatives.
In Mozambique, midwives and community health workers are focusing on not only pre-natal, but ante-natal visits to help monitor health and provide education about diseases that threaten pregnant women and children. The efforts are paying off with a dramatic increase in healthy births.
Among all of the data that is collected through these visits there was one in particular that caught my attention. Last year, nearly 187 of these individuals were treated for malaria at these ante-natal visits. This year, because of our efforts to reduce transmission – only 13 individuals had to be treated. That is a 93% reduction! And a cause for great hope for children who might grow up and thrive.

We also heard a report from National Justice For Our Neighbors on our work along the border in these past months. This organization is a United Methodist ministry that provides legal help for immigrants and refugees. Their work has focused on the border with providing accompaniment for those who are seeking asylum.
In one such instance, a mother and her child from Guatemala presented themselves at the border and were separated and placed in detention until their Credible Fear Interview to verify their need for asylum. After 38 days, her interview finally came, and a JFON attorney named Virginia, helped the mother, Delia, present her case to the officer and was granted asylum. Having been found to have credible fear, Delia then had to post a $1,500 bond – which was raised by JFON.
But then, they had to raise funds to travel to where her child was being held two hours away.
One of the conditions of asylum is that individuals must be able to stay with family and so funds also had to be raised in order to get this mother and child to their relatives in another part of the United States. In the weeks for it took to complete this process, the JFON lawyer actually opened up their home for this family to stay with her.

Both of those programs and ministries are possible because we as United Methodists have said that YES we are able to care for the most vulnerable around us. We have combined our apportionment resources and special giving to be the hands and feet of Jesus all across this world.

But we also see the impact of these struggles right here in Des Moines. The neighborhood all around us is changing and part of the reason is that immigrant and refugee families are making a home in our midst. They have found here a safe place to start over, raise their children, and build a new life for themselves.
It’s the reason why Hoover High School is the most diverse school in our state.
But we also see this represented in the lives of children who attend the schools closest to our church.
We wanted to take some time today to hear about the needs right here in our local community, from one our elementary schools – Monroe.

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You and I… this community of faith… has the opportunity to bring hope and excitement to the children right here in our midst.
We can show up and volunteer.
We can support the work of these families as they care for one another.
We can pray for teachers and provide encouragement in their work.
We are going to be listening, paying attention, and seeking further ways to be in partnership with not only Monroe elementary, but our other neighborhood schools as well.

We’ve responded by collecting socks and underwear.
We’ve brought together supplies for school kits.
We’ve purchased books.
And now God is asking us to respond in a bigger way – to build relationships.
One of those opportunities is present right here in our building as we continue to get to know the Myanmar congregation and their children and together our children are growing in faith and love.
Reach out and get to know them on Wednesday nights and Sunday mornings.
Sit with them at dinner.
Ask them how their day is going.
Volunteer with our children’s ministry.

And… if you are interested in stepping up in a bigger way, Billie is going to be coordinating some efforts in the future to build partnerships with our schools. She’d love to hear from you.

God has given us amazing gifts, resources, a beautiful facility, and the hands and feet to help.
Are you willing… are you able… to see the children around us and bring hope into their lives?

Untitled

Posted on October 7, 2018Leave a comment

Text: Mark 9:38-41

Sometimes the best thing a preacher can do is to be real and authentic.

And so I’m going to confess that I’m really struggling with how to share this text with you this week.

This fall, we are loosely following the lectionary – the three-year cycle of texts that help us to explore the fullness of the scripture. Rather than just preaching on my favorite texts each week, the lectionary challenges us to think outside of our comfort zone.

But we also are building up to our Stewardship Sunday at the end of this month, and as we organized the texts and the themes, we wanted to ask the question – Are you able to support the ministry of others? Are you able to invest in the work of your fellow siblings in Christ – even if you don’t always do things the same way? Are you able to encourage people you disagree with?

I still want to preach that sermon.

But I admit that it is harder to preach today than it was a month ago or a year ago.

And that is because what we see all around us, in both the church and our larger political landscape and indeed in our world, is a whole lot of us vs. them mentality.

I was sitting at an event in Chicago two weeks ago with other members of the General Conference delegation from our jurisdiction. And there is this particular person with whom I have a very difficult time finding any common ground. They weren’t even sitting at the table with me, but I could see them across the room and every single time they caught my attention, I could feel my anxiety rise. My heart beat faster. My chest clenched up a bit.

I realized that I see this person as my enemy.

We are on the same team.

We both love the United Methodist Church.

And yet everything we believe appears to be so diametrically opposed… and not only that, but I feel like their position actually harms people I love within the church.

I don’t want them to win.

And I don’t know what to do about that and how it is impacting my own soul.

Politics is the social life that we share together and we have witnessed our political discourse crumble to pieces.

In these past few weeks, anyone who has tried to say something about what is happening in our nation, particularly around the Supreme Court – for or against it – is immediately swarmed by people who both criticize their position and criticize them for not going far enough.

We are so entrenched that we cannot even see clearly.

The red side and the blue side are enemies and the slightest mention of anything political and you can watch a room fill with tension as people discern when to engage and how in order to be victorious.

But, friends, there simply have not been any winners in these political battles.

We have all lost.

As we have been following the gospel of Mark this fall, we come to a moment of struggle for the disciples. They have worked so closely with Jesus and even though they don’t always get it completely right, they understand who their tribe is.

To use a sports metaphor, Jesus is the coach and they can point to the other eleven players.

They know who their teammates are.

But as our pericope begins, the disciple John tells Jesus about how he and some other disciples noticed these other people who were doing ministry in his name. Specifically, they were casting out demons, something that the disciples themselves had just failed to do successfully a few verses earlier.

What was their very first response to encountering these people?

Resentment. Hostility.

They tried to stop them.

If they aren’t part of our team, our tribe, we have to shut them down.

Into our tribalism and partisanship, into our entrenchment and division, Christ speaks.

From the message translation:

“No one can use my name to do something good and powerful, and in the next breath cut me down. If he’s not an enemy, he’s an ally. Why, anyone by just giving you a cup of water in my name is on our side.”

Whoever is not against us is for us.

Those are really hard words to hear when you feel like you are on the battlefield.

They are hard words to hear when you consider someone your enemy.

They are especially hard words to hear when you look at the actions or the policies or the attitudes of someone and you actually believe that they will harm you or people you love or things you care about.

And maybe that is why I have struggled so much with this text this week.

Because there are bigger issues out there in the world than simply accepting or encouraging the ministry of someone who sets up communion a different way that I do.

I think our division is so intense because we believe there are issues of life and death, holiness and faithfulness, justice and covenant, on the line as a result of the direction we take… from either side.

But I wonder if what Jesus is really calling us to in this passage is a different way of engaging those battles.

What if instead of seeing those on the other side of the aisle or the other side of the church or in another part of this world as enemies, we saw them first as allies.

Jesus says that you demonstrate you are on his side by giving others a cup of water, giving the hungry food, clothing the naked, comforting the mourning.

Not by destroying those with whom you disagree.

If we continue just a bit farther in this chapter, Jesus talks about how if your hand or foot or eye causes you to stumble, cut it off. And then he reminds us that everyone will go through a refining fire sooner or later… and we need to consider how our actions demonstrate our faithfulness.

I think Jesus is calling us to get busy doing good, to worry about our own actions and our own failings, and to let God sort out the rest.

I got to thinking about my friend, Doug, as I thought about this work.

Doug was a Missouri Synod Lutheran pastor in the community that I first served in Marengo.

While we are both Christian, our two traditions have very different understandings of communion, ordination, and the place of women in the church.

The very first time I met Doug, I admit I had a lot of anxiety.

This was a person whose faith taught him that I couldn’t and shouldn’t be a pastor.

Everything in my being was preparing for an argument or to figure out a way to defend myself and my personhood. I had already drawn lines in the sand. I had already thought of him as a potential enemy.

Do you know what Doug wanted to talk about?

He wanted to ask if I would be willing to join him and some other pastors for breakfast every Wednesday morning to talk about the lectionary.

He didn’t see my as an opponent or someone he had to convince, but as an ally, a colleague, a friend.

He was offering me a cup of water…. Or coffee in this instance, in the name of Christ.

He was doing ministry in Jesus’ name.

And he recognized that I was doing the same.

We shared breakfast every Wednesday morning for four years.

And when we are invited to this table, we are called to set aside our weapons and our armor and to see people we believed to be enemies as brothers and sisters.

We will not agree.

We will not do things the same.

We might even believe that the actions of another person might harm our witness or people we love and care about.

But if we engage one another in love…

If we greet them in the name of Christ…

If we offer them a cup of water…

If we open ourselves to allow them to do the same for us…

Then at the very least we are preserving that place in our own souls that dies a little bit every time we consider someone to be our enemy.

Once we allow someone to sit with us at the table and break bread and share a meal, we discover that there are new ways to have a conversation about our differences.

We find there are good things that we can do together in Christ’s name.

And we have a chance to build the kind of trust and relationship that will allow us to truly hold one another accountable for our actions. We will finally have the authority and respect in one another’s life to call out actions that are done in the name of Christ that harms the body. And we can do so in love, with compassion, trusting and knowing that we are on the same team and that if our sister or brother is calling us to account it is because they want what is best for not only our own soul, but for the church and the world that we share.

So are you able to invite someone you disagree with to the table?

Are you able to point out the good things they do in Christ’s name?

Are you able to encourage them and love them so that one day you can both hold one another accountable?

May it be so.

YES! We are Able to Claim Our Faith

Posted on October 2, 2018Leave a comment

63% of American households have pets. According to estimates from the American Pet Products Manufacturers Association that Americans own approximately 73 million dogs, 90 million cats, 139 million freshwater fish, 9 million saltwater fish, 16 million birds, 18 million small animals and 11 million reptiles.

And as one pet therapist noted: “Love is the most important medicine and pets are one of nature’s best sources of affection. Pets relax and calm. They take the human mind off loneliness, grief, pain, and fear. They cause laughter and offer a sense of security and protection. They encourage exercise and broaden the circle of one’s acquaintances.” (http://www.sniksnak.com/therapy.html)

In our gospel lesson from Mark this morning, we discover how a woman, who was callously called a dog, broadens the circle of God’s love… even for Jesus.

First, some important background. Jesus is traveling with the disciples on the border lands of Israel – out by Tyre and Sidon. Not only were they in Gentile territory, but there was long held animosity between the people of Israel and “those people.”

As Mark’s gospel relates, Jesus really doesn’t want to be bothered. He ducks into a home for some peace and quiet, but somehow this woman knows that he is there. Before they know it, she’s inside, prostrate at his feet.

In Matthew’s version of this story, she appears yelling and shouting, begging and pleading for the healing of her demon-possessed daughter. And, Jesus – the one who is always supposed to have the answers and who models to us how to treat others – surprisingly just ignores the woman. Doesn’t even bother to give her the time of day.

When he finally does respond to her pleas, it is with these words: “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”

Jesus is making clear that his focus, his mission, is first to the children of Israel. And this woman, this Syrophonecian, was not his problem.

We can see parallels in the kind of animosity taking place between these cultures with how Europeans denigrated Native Americans. Like the Israelites, Europeans believed that the land of America was their promised land. It was a gift from God. But those who already occupied the land had to be deal with first and what came as a result was the demonization of a whole group of people. The others were seen as nothing more than mongrels, barbarians, dogs.

She belongs to the wrong culture. She is the wrong gender to be making such a request. She was not included and not welcomed. And yet, she drops to her knees in an act of worship and begs Jesus to help her.

Biblical scholar Scott Hoezee, writes, “this woman is asking for a place at the table, but Jesus, chillingly, relegates her to the floor of life. ‘It’s not right to toss perfectly good bread meant to feed the children to the dogs.’ Jesus calls her a dog. It’s a kind of slur, an epithet, and the disciples no doubt approved.” (Scott Hoezee http://cep.calvinseminary.edu/thisWeek/index.php)

Jesus has denied her want she wants, what she needs. And, he has insulted her in front of the disciples.

But what I love about this woman is that she doesn’t back down. She is quick and witty, she rolls with the punches and she boldly speaks back. “Okay, so you want to call me a dog? Fine. You say that as a dog I don’t deserve the food off the table. Fine. But you know what? Even dogs get the leftovers. Even dogs get the crumbs that fall under the children’s feet. Even dogs deserve that… so, c’mon! throw me a bone here Jesus!”

We don’t know why Jesus initially excluded this woman, except that he felt like he had a mission to preach the Kingdom of God to the Israelites.

So in a sense, he had drawn a line – a boundary – he had placed a limit on what he was willing or able or felt called to do.

He had drawn a circle that shut her out.

But then this woman had the wit and the courage and daring to flip his statements on him and to draw the circle big enough so that she was not only included, but that others could be included as well.

This woman reminded Jesus, in this moment of his human weakness, of the promises of his divine calling. We proclaimed them together in our call to worship. Our help is the God of Jacob. God is faithful forever. The Lord gives justice to the oppressed and makes the blind see and loves the righteous and helps orphans and widows.

She acknowledges that Jesus might have a call to first help the people of Israel, but she claims her own faith and her own place within the larger vision of God’s mission in this world.

I think that far too many of us hesitate to say “YES!” to God’s work, because we don’t believe that we are included or important. Maybe, because someone IN the church has made a comment that has put us in our place or has denigrated us… whether they meant to or not.

You are too old or you are too young.

You don’t dress the right way.

You have made different choices about how to raise children or care for aging parents.

You can’t get up early enough.

You stay up too late.

You are too busy.

This church is full of imperfect, human people and we all have a vision in our head of what our mission should be about. Sometimes, as a result, we step on one another’s toes and say things without thinking.

When we find ourselves on the receiving end of such words, it is natural to want to tuck your tail between your legs and slink away.

But I want to remind you of the persistence of this woman.

She claimed her faith.

She claimed her position.

She claimed her reality.

And she claimed her place.

You know, I admit in a church that it is easy to get caught up in one idea of what we are supposed to be about. One defined goal. But if we aren’t careful, we allow that one thing to so define our work that in fact we have drawn a circle. We have built a wall and we have imprisoned the gospel. Because, although we may think we know exactly who should be included in our ministry, we must remain open to whomever God sends our way.

Dan Nelson writes that “Even Jesus, who presumably has divine authorization for his limits allows those limits to be stretched by another’s necessity. In other words, the rule here is that there is no rule, only a creative tension between our finite capacities and the world’s infinite need.” (http://sio.midco.net/danelson9/yeara/proper15a.htm)

Our finite capacities and the world’s infinite need.

As a fully human person, Jesus was aware of the limits of his time and energy, but as fully divine, Jesus never stopped being aware of this woman’s need.

Paul wrestles in the book of Romans with whether or not the love of God for any person changes – if people can ever fall out of their standing with God. And his answer is simple: NO.

God never turns away from us. God is always there, from generation to generation.

The church, gets it wrong sometimes. We forget that we are charged with the task of making God’s name known throughout the world – to all people in all places.

Like ungrateful children, sometimes we take the bread that was set on the table and meant to be shared and we toss it carelessly on the floor.

But as the Syrophonecian woman reminds us – even there, even in the crumbs, even in the scraps, the gospel finds a way to feed and transform and bring life to people.

We need to hear the voices from those we have set on the outside, on the margins.

We need every person who has ever felt like they have been excluded to claim their faith.

Shout out your needs.

Tell aloud your faith.

Speak your truth.

Because when you do, when you say YES to God, even if and when you feel like the church is saying NO to you, you transform the church.

You help us to recognize those we have unintentionally left out.

You enable us to respond to pain we couldn’t see.

You make us a better church.

You stretch us and stretch our hearts and stretch the gospel around the world.

We are finite and there are limits to what we can do – but when every single one of us claims OUR faith, we are able to wipe away the boundaries around the gospel – and we will find that God will give us the strength and power, mercy and compassion, that we need to be in ministry in new ways and places each and every day.

YES!: Are Ye Able?

Posted on September 23, 2018Leave a comment

Text: Mark 10:35-45

This summer, we invited each of our households here at Immanuel to read a book together: Defying Gravity by Tom Berlin. Berlin invited us to try to break free from the gravity of this world, the culture of more, and the kingdom of self-centered ways in order to follow Jesus and find freedom within the Kingdom of God.
This fall, as we approach our Stewardship Sunday we are going to be exploring ways that the early disciples found themselves saying YES to Jesus. Ways that they, and we are invited to break free from what is burdening us, so that we can follow Jesus Christ.

On first glance, the disciples James and John in our scripture today don’t seem to be breaking out of the kingdom of self-centered ways. In fact, they seem to be completely focused on their own success and glory.
In the verses immediately before our scripture reading for this morning, Jesus is predicting his own death and resurrection… but these two don’t seem to be paying attention.
In fact, they are too busy trying to find their way to the best seats at the table.

I’ve discovered whenever we go to have meals with my nieces and nephews that this very topic, where people get to sit, is really important. Sometimes, before I’ve even taken off my coat at the door, I find a nephew tugging at my hand, showing me where my seat is. It is always very strategically placed next to him.
The only problem with all of this maneuvering is that I only have a right side and a left side. And there are now four nieces and nephews all vying for one of those coveted spots. Someone’s feelings usually get hurt because they didn’t get the chance to ask first and sometimes a fight breaks out. Usually we have to do some negotiating so that if I sat next to one of them last time, it gets to be someone else’s turn. Or perhaps we are there for the weekend and we can all get a chance.
Suffice it to say – I almost never get to sit by my husband at family meals.

Well, James and John, they, too have their eyes on the best seats, right next to Jesus, at this great heavenly feast and coming of God’s glory that they keep hearing about.
They have conveniently forgotten all of the tough times that await.
Or maybe they haven’t.
Maybe they are terrified about all of these predictions about death and trials and rejection and they are doing what we all naturally do when we encounter our fears… they are trying to secure their own future.

Biblical scholar Charles Campbell suggests that “fear breeds the desire for security.” (Feasting on the Word).
We find ourselves fearful of all sorts of things in this world. Fear of strangers, fear of terrorism, fear of falling behind, fear for our children.
A good friend of mine went out for a run by herself this weekend and posted on facebook that the entire time she was uneasy and anxious in light of the recent attacks upon women who were alone, minding their own business, living their life.
And you know what – fears breed the desire for security. People quickly responded with ways to work to keep safe – from wasp spray, to sonic whistles, a buddy system and more.
Fight, flight, freeze… we seek security and protection from our fears by buying things to help us fight back or get away or we allow the fear to keep us from engaging all together.

These disciples weren’t running away from this difficult journey of Jesus, but they wanted to fight for a seat by his side when it was all over. And James and John rush to ask the question first. They want a guarantee of where they will land at the end of it all.
Jesus invites them to consider a different way. He turns their eyes from the heavenly seat of glory and instead invites them to think about images of baptism, communion, and the cross.
He’s asking them to break free from the gravity of fear that leads them to seek their own spot at the table and to instead embrace the Kingdom of God that is the way of the servant.

Are you able? Jesus asks them and us.

Are you able to drink from this cup?
We are being invited to say YES to the holy practices of the table. A table of love and grace, mercy and forgiveness. Around God’s table, all are welcome – sinners and saints – and there is no seat that is more important than any other.
Around God’s table, we discover that it is in giving that we receive and we learn that God has always provided enough to sustain us. We don’t need to fight or grasp or cling to secure our own future, God has already done the work. Christ is the bread of life, broken for us, and when we eat and when we drink, we offer ourselves as a holy and living sacrifice. We become the body of Christ, redeemed by his blood, shared with the world.

Are you able to receive my baptism?
We are being invited to say YES to the sacred practices of death and renewal. At the font, even this morning, we remembered that our very life was nurtured by God in the waters of a womb. We are invited to enter these waters and die to our old selves and to rise with Christ. And we are reassured of the grace of God that will continue to make our lives new.
In response, we are called to embody a life that rejects the kingdom of the self and all that would pull ourselves and those around us, into that black hole of thinking that we are never enough or we will never have enough. We become living witnesses to the gospel, standing against injustice and oppression and evil and proclaiming hope.

When Jesus asks James and John if they are able, the truth is that he knows they are able.
He knows that no matter the shortcomings and the fears that led them to ask this question, they can and will break free. Charles Campbell sees this as a great promise to us as the church today. He writes:
“We need not always live in fear; we need not continually seek our own security. Rather, we have Jesus’ promise that we can and will live as faithful disciples as we seek to follow him.” (Feasting on the Word, p. 193)

Are you able to take up my cross?
In a world in which rulers show off their authority and the powerful push people around, Jesus invites us to say YES to a different way. The cross, you see, is not just about the forgiveness of my personal sin. It forms all of us into a community of faith that is not organized by winners and losers, the honored and the shamed, but by how we love and care for and serve one another. As Saint Francis of Assisi invites us to pray:

O Divine Master, grant that I may not seek so much
to be consoled as to console,
To be understood as to understand,
To be loved as to love,
For it is in giving that we receive,
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

When we say YES to Jesus, we are set free from our fears and our drive to secure our own future. And we are empowered by the grace of God and the power of the Holy Spirit to truly follow Christ. We are able, not because any of our own abilities or knowledge or power… but because the practices of this church like baptism and communion fill us with the grace and strength we need to keep saying yes, day after day.

There will be many things around us that cause us to fear. But by living into the practices of community Jesus has offered, we find the courage and the strength to change the world one moment at a time. We are building a kingdom where no person will ever have to fear again. Thanks be to God, Amen.

The Tie that Binds

Posted on September 9, 2018Leave a comment

Text: Colossians 3: 12-17

I want to start off our message this morning by thanking all of you for the gentleness, patience, and tolerance that you have shared with one another these past few weeks. As a community, we have been exploring the larger conversation taking place in our denomination about human sexuality. There are still lots of questions and unknowns, but thank you for making the time to listen and pray and reflect. As these months continue before February, please feel free to ask questions and we’ll let you know of opportunities to have further conversation as they arise.
One of the things that these past four weeks highlighted for me, however, is that we are truly bound together in love. For the vast majority of those gathered here, our presence in this community of faith is rooted in something that goes beyond our disagreements or differences. And so I want to take some time today to explore that.
Will you pray with me?
Holy God, may the words of my mouth and the meditation of all our hearts and minds be holy and pleasing to you, Our Strength and our Redeemer. Amen.

Be tolerant. Forgive. Allow peace to rule your hearts. Teach and warn each other.
Paul invites us through his letter to the Colossians to think seriously about what it means to be a community formed by Jesus Christ. A community that takes seriously its baptismal vows. A community bound together by the love of God.

Blest be the tie that binds our hearts in Christian love;
The fellowship of kindred minds is like to that above.

What unites us is not the rules we follow or our ethnicity or which team we root for, but Christ – who is in all things and in all people.
And the image of Christ should be renewing and transforming our lives and our community so that whatever we do, we do it as one coordinated body.
The truth is that this is harder than it sounds.
We have a really hard time putting into practice these things as a congregation because the demands of the world outside of this community are so heavy. Work. School. Sports. Dance. The lawn needs mowed and dinner needs made. Our lives are being pulled in a thousand different directions with every single one of them demanding that we wear a different hat or become a different person in order to be successful.
The vast majority of us spend less than 3-5 hours with our church community each week. 3-5 hours is all the time we have to look towards Christ, pray together, sing, hear the word, eat some cookies, and then we all head our separate directions once again.
You know… some of us spend more time each week in the fall in community at football games than we do at church.
I’m not saying that’s a bad thing! I know I was gathered together with friends around the television yesterday watching Iowa and Iowa State.
But it made me realize that perhaps congregations today have much more in common with football fans than with the kind of community Paul is calling us to embody in these scriptures.
We are brought together around our common love – football in one case and God in the other. We sing and cheer together. We pray together – “Please, God, let us get a first down.” And when the game is over and the refreshments are cleaned up, we head home… back to our lives.
My experience with going to football games is that for the most part I don’t know the people around me. I know that we share a common passion and for a couple of hours we are all on the same team, but I have little, if any sense of obligation to the people who are around me in the stadium. I don’t get their phone number and check in on them later in the week. I’m not going to be invited their kid’s wedding ten years down the road.
Some of you, I know, are long time season ticket holders, however, and faithfully show up at every game, week after week. And I’ve heard a few stories about the community you have formed with the people around you. Over the years, you’ve gotten to know one another – you talk about what you do and how your families are.
I imagine the same thing happens here at church. When you sit in the same pew week after week, there are others who do the same. You take that time before worship and after the postlude to ask questions about how life is going. You know the names of their kids. You ask how work or school is going. You follow-up with someone has been sick.
There is a bond of love that starts to be formed as we gather together each week.

Before our Father’s throne we pour our ardent prayers;
Our fears, our hopes, our aims are one, our comforts and our cares.

What happens, however, when there is conflict?
What happens when we disagree?
What happens when we are offended by something that another has done?
If we were simply fans in a stadium, maybe you would stop talking with that person or switch seats. There is little if any sense of obligation to one another, much less accountability for one another.
But that is not true in the church.
In our baptismal vows, we promised to proclaim the good news and live according to the example of Christ. We promised to pray for one another. We promised to surround one another with a community of love and forgiveness so that we might all grow in our service to others.
Our congregation has 451 professing members on our rolls and has listed 87 people who have been baptized as infants or children. That means there are 538 people who are bound together under the care of this congregation. 538 people for whom we have made vows to surround with love and care.
There is a really key part of those vows that is really hard to remember.
We promised to surround one another with forgiveness… because we are not always going to get it right.
I know that when we look around, we do not see 538 faces in our midst.
Some members of our body simply live in new places, but their connection to our church continues and then come back and visit when they can.
Some members of this community can no longer be physically present with us on a Sunday morning, but we try to reach out in love and help them to remain connected through visits, cards, and calls.
But others are no longer active in this community because of something that went wrong.
Maybe an inappropriate comment was made.
Maybe they felt like they didn’t have it all together like they should.
I need to name a simple truth:
We are not saints. People in this church will let you down.
But you are not a saint either. And you will let others down at one point or another.
When we do fail one another – when we make mistakes, when we fall off the wagon, when we lash out in anger or frustration – well, that is actually when we need one another the most.
That is when we need this community of folks who are not only brought together by Christ’s love, but bound together by that love. And as Christ’s life transforms our community, then how we treat one another changes as well.

We share each other’s woes, our mutual burdens bear;
And often for each other flows the sympathizing tear.

Too often, I have seen churches allow conflicts and problems to remain hidden. We don’t share with one another the woes in our lives for fear of judgment. And out of fear of being judgmental, we aren’t willing to hold one another accountable for the promises that we have made.
But listen again to the words of Paul in his letter to the Colossians:
Put on compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience.
Be tolerant with one another.
Forgive each other.
Put on love.
Friends, you are part of a community that is unlike any else in this world. We are bound together by Christ and these words, these values, this attitudes, form the core of who we are and how we treat one another.
And the Body of Christ, we are called to be honest, share the truth, but always with those attitudes at the core of what we say and how we act. In that way, no matter our conflict or struggle, we can always love one another back into community.
When was the last time that you reached out to one of your brothers or sisters in Christ and gently asked why they haven’t been in church for a while? Give someone a call and listen more than you speak.
When was the last time you texted your friend and reminded them about the great children’s activities that they’ve been missing? Pull out your phone right now… and do so with compassion for the busyness that is probably bringing a lot of stress into their life.
When was the last time you stopped to visit the older couple who used to sit right behind you? Forgive yourself for not doing so sooner… just go!
Have you ever told the person who sits next to you what it means to you to give faithfully? Or shared how much it means to you that they are present here in worship each week? Or asked them if there is anything you can pray for in their life?
For too long we have talked about people and their problems and their failings behind their back rather than reaching out and letting them know that we are here, and we want to be on this journey with them.
I have seen too many churches treat one another as strangers instead of as brothers and sisters in Christ’s love. Siblings, bound together by a love so strong that it cannot be broken.

When we asunder part, it gives us inward pain;
But we shall still be joined in heart, and hope to meet again.

This church knows how to love, how to serve, and how to pray. When someone lets us know that they are in need, we show up. When a loved one is dying, we bring prayers. When someone is recovering from surgery, we show up with food.
Our greater challenge is to continue pushing ourselves to love when it is difficult. When we are disappointed. When we aren’t satisfied with how things are going. How to love as family, flesh and blood of the one Body of Christ. You never cease to amaze me with your outpouring of love… so now let’s allow that love to continue to move us deeper into relationship, deeper into the tough questions, deeper into the dark and troubled places of our lives. Even there… especially there… let us be bound together in love.