authentic – Salvaged Faith

Help!

Posted on June 11, 2023Leave a comment

Text: Psalm 40:11-17; Matthew 26:36-39;

Good morning friends!

We find ourselves in the season of Pentecost.

The season of the Holy Spirit.

Those first disciples of Jesus were transformed into apostles…

leaders of a community of people that tapped into the power of God for good in the world.

You know, as much as we think about that phrase from the gospel of John…

that the world will know you are my disciples… they will know you are Christians… by how you love one another (John 13:35)…

I think this early Christian community was known by its prayer life.

Just after the ascension of Jesus, there were about 120 folks that were part of the Jesus movement who all gathered together.

Luke tells us that “all were united in their devotion to prayer.” (Acts 1:14)

And when Pentecost came ten days later… where were they?

Gathered together in prayer!

On that day, as their community grew by leaps and bounds, we are told that these thousands of new believers “devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, to the community, to their shared meals, and to their prayers.” (2:42)

And everyone around them was amazed by what they saw.

Prayer is powerful.

Prayer is power.

It is one of the key ways that we stay connected with God.

It is how we allow the Holy Spirit into our lives: our minds, hearts, and souls.

And as I thought about what I wanted to say to you in these last few weeks…

As I thought about what might be the most important thing I could leave you with…

I kept thinking about how important it is that we are a people of prayer.

It is part of our vision after all – isn’t it?

In Christ, we live a live of love, service, and prayer.

And I know you to be a praying people.

We knit and perl and crochet together prayers for others.

We add our neighbors and friends and family to our prayer list.

But I’ve noticed something else about this church…

We are great about praying for others…

but we sometimes struggle with lifting up prayers for ourselves.

Maybe it is because we don’t want to admit that we don’t have it all together…

Or because we don’t want to be seen as bragging about the good in our lives…

Or maybe we aren’t sure if it is something we need or deserve.

The writer Anne Lamott describes prayer as:

“…taking a chance that against all odds and past history, we are loved and chosen, and do not have to get it together before we show up. The opposite may be true: We may not be able to get it together until after we show up in such miserable shape.”

Did you hear that?

We might not be able to get it together… until AFTER we show up in such miserable shape.

You don’t have to have all the right words, or have it all figured out.

You just need to start.

Over these next three weeks, we are going to talk about what Anne Lamott describes as the essential prayers for our lives:

Help.

Thanks.

Wow.

When I think about those three prayers, but especially the first one, “Help!” I realize that God already knows what we need.

God already knows what is happening in our lives.

Really the question is… are we aware?

Can we be honest with ourselves?

Are we willing to admit that we are not in control?

Perhaps this kind of prayer is easy in moments of true desperation.

In 1815, the playwright Hannah More, described how, “under circumstances of distress, indeed, prayer is adopted with comparatively little reluctance; the mind, which knows not where to fly, flies to God. In agony, nature is no Atheist.”[i]

Later in World War I, people would talk about how there were no atheists in the trenches and foxholes.

In those moments when we truly have run out of options, and nothing is left, we cry out, “Help!”

In our scriptures for this morning, we hear two variations on this prayer.

The Psalmist finds themselves surrounded by evil and sin.

Troubles are piling up, counting more than the hairs on their head.

They cannot see a way out.

Their heart… their hope… fails them.

“O Lord, make haste to help me!”

As The Voice translation concludes this psalm:

“I am empty and need so much, but I know the Lord is thinking of me. You are my help; only You can save me, my True God. Please hurry.”

In the Gospel reading, Jesus himself is described as grieved and agitated.

He knows that betrayal and death are just around the corner and it is more than his soul can bear.

And so first, he cries out to his friends for help… “remain here, and stay awake with me.”

But then he cries out to God:

“My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me…”

Save me… rescue me… from what I am about to go through.

There are those moments of true and utter desperation that show up in our lives.

Life and death moments…

Rock bottom moments…

When there is literally nothing else that we can do besides ask for help and prayer from those around us.

But I’m far more aware of those more everyday situations where we might need help and prayer, but we hesitate to speak up.

We hate the feeling of vulnerability and think that we should be stronger than we are.

I can do this on my own, we say.

We don’t want to bother others with what we are going through.

Or we worry about what they might think of us if they knew that we were having a hard time.

Most of you don’t know my spouse, Brandon, because he’s not a “churchy” guy.

Deeper than that, he has some experiences that have put him off from religion and we’ve established some good boundaries to help respect one another’s beliefs and needs.

I so appreciate all of you in this church for also doing so and allowing him to be who he is.

Just over two years ago, we found ourselves going through a rough patch.

I have preached on mental health, talked about suicide and depression, walked with many of you through those moments… but suddenly, there it was on my own doorstep.

Brandon was experiencing feelings of hopelessness and depression and anxiety… and we were able to reach out and get him connected with the resources and therapies that he needed.

But there were some incredibly difficult moments along the way, including a 9-1-1 call in the middle of the night when he had a poor reaction to a change in one of his medications.

And as much as Brandon needed help in those moments, so did I.

I knew I couldn’t fix it… but that doesn’t mean I didn’t feel shame or guilt for not being able to do so.

I needed help and strength to walk that journey with him.

And I’m so grateful for a group of friends and colleagues who answered midnight texts and kept checking in on us and allowing me to vent when I needed to do so.

I’m so grateful for members of this staff and SPRC committee that created a safe space for me to share and talk about what was going on and who kept Brandon and I in your prayers.

But as I was thinking about this sermon, I also keep asking myself why I didn’t share all of this with all of you while it was happening.

Part of the reason is that Brandon himself was not ready to talk about it in a bigger way… and with worship being online, I didn’t want to share more of his story in such a public space…

It is one of the reasons why we aren’t sharing more intimate details and names of prayer requests in worship… because we are now livestreaming worship every week, we hold those more personal details for our internal prayer lists.

But I also think my own hesitation to share in a bigger way reflects why it is difficult for all of us.

We don’t want to bother others.

Or we don’t want it to change our relationship with them… worried that they will only see our weakness.

Or you know what… maybe we simply want a space in our lives where we can pretend that everything is okay.

As your pastor, I think I worried about it impacting my ability to show up in the way you needed me to… even though, it was impacting my ability to show up in the ways you needed me to.

And what I needed, but maybe was unable to communicate, was some extra grace as I spent a bit more time at home and when I couldn’t be as available as I wanted to be.

I just kept doing what I could, hoping that things would be okay.

I fumbled along… rather than asking for your prayers.

Rather than crying out, “Help!”

Lamott describes this as the hardest prayer, because we are admitting defeat:

“You have to surrender, which is the hardest thing any of us do, ever.”

It is not easy to say, “I can’t fix this.”

We struggle with admitting that things are not okay… sometimes even to ourselves.

But then Lamott goes on to say: “a lot of the time we don’t know when we’re surrendering that we’re actually, at the same time… establishing connection… to a power greater than ourselves.”[ii]

We “open ourselves to being helped by something, some force, some friends, some something.”

When we turn to God and when we turn to our fellow disciples with a prayer of “help!” we don’t just find answers… we find community.

We find people who are not just willing, but eager, to walk alongside us.

We find a God who has always been faithful and good and who will never stop loving and caring for us.

It is why the Psalmist is able to not just cry out for help, but to acknowledge the joy that comes to those who seek him.

And it is why Jesus, in his great prayer of desperation can reconnect with his Father, placing his life in God’s hands… Not my will, but yours.

In saying, I trust you with this… we are also saying, I am in relationship with you.

Friends, when we share our own prayers for help with each other, we are saying to one another:

I believe that you care for me.

I trust that you are in this with me.

And I know the power of God that is with us will continue to give us strength not just for this, but for anything that might come our way.

In asking for help, we are creating the opportunity for us to be blessed by one another.

That doesn’t mean that you need to feel pressure to air all your struggles with the whole body.

It is perfectly okay to have a smaller group of friends and disciples that you trust to walk with you… a friend or two that you know you can be honest and vulnerable with.

Even Jesus chose to take along just a few disciples for his intimate time of prayer in the garden.

I needed that during my struggles… and was so grateful I had it.

But I also want you to remember and to know that this is a praying church.

That if you ask for help and are willing to be vulnerable and share those needs with us, we will be here for you.

We will be united in our prayers, quick and eager to help and respond and show up with whatever might be needed.

Like that early Christian community, we are people who love one another, want what is best for one another, and are willing to share and surround each other with the love and grace and mercy of God.

And I think that when we have the courage to be vulnerable and surrender, we will find that God will simply pour out even more power and strength upon us.

May it be so.

Amen.

[i] 1815, An Essay on the Character and Practical Writings of Saint Paul by Hannah More, Volume 2 of 2, Fourth Edition, Chapter 19, Quote Page 232, Printed for T. Cadell and W. Davies, London.

[ii] https://www.npr.org/2012/11/19/164814269/anne-lamott-distills-prayer-into-help-thanks-wowMusic:

Comfortable In Our Skin

Posted on February 5, 2020Leave a comment

My gym regularly has challenges that help us to stay motivated and accountable with one another and our goals. For almost three years, Elite Edge has pushed me and shaped me and it is an important part of my week and how I care for myself.

But I have to admit that I have this internal struggle going on with one of the key reasons I go and show up and put all sorts of limits on what I eat in order to accomplish the goals I set there:

I don’t always feel comfortable in my body.

I actually remember why I signed up in the first place. I had looked at this image of myself in a conference news story and it was rounder than I remembered it being. A lot rounder. To be honest, I hadn’t stepped on a scale in a while. I was filling my life with work and family and wasn’t doing much to take care of myself in healthy ways.

There are two parts of this realization that are important. My relationship with my body was virtually non-existent. I just wasn’t paying attention to it. And from a health perspective, that’s not a great thing. I was experiencing a few symptoms of dis-ease that I was ignoring but that photo of myself caused me to ask some questions of my doctor. I want to be strong and healthy and full of life as I age and this was a moment to change the story I was writing for myself. And I did.

But it also stirred up all sorts of anxiety about how I should look. What other people thought about how I looked. What I thought it meant to be young and sexy. How society portrays what a fit body looks. And success at this gym was predicated around lowering our weight and losing inches, which wraps itself all into those expectations of body image that we should be smaller, thinner, more like the images we see in the media.

There are a hundred layers of this that could each be pulled back: double standards, the objectification of women’s bodies, class and racial expectations of beauty, consent and sexual violence… and they all gravitate around a harsh reality. We do not allow people to feel safe and comfortable in their own bodies. We do not respect one another’s bodies.

These over-sexualized expectations and fat-shaming perspectives are all around us. They dominate our advertising. They feed our economy as they are used to drive our consumer desire to buy products that will help us achieve these goals. And I buy into them sometimes. It’s honestly the thing that got me to stop into the gym that morning. I was willing to try something new, to spend my money, to buy into this crazy idea that I could lose twenty pounds in six weeks… because I didn’t like what my body said about who I was.

Now, having been to this gym for a few years, I have a completely different relationship with my body.

I know how strong it is.

I have walked people of all different bodies and sizes and shapes walk into that gym and we all give that session our all and leave equally sweaty and gross and energized.

I know that I do five straight minutes of jumping jacks and know every single muscle that goes into one… because those muscles hurt for nearly a week after.

I wear skinny jeans now. And I never felt comfortable in them before because they accentuated how large my thighs were, but now, I daily wear form-fitting leggings to the gym and there are huge muscles there and I don’t hide them or cover them up and no one cares or judges. And having that space where I could stop worrying about what someone else things freed me up to stop worrying in other places too.

I notice how different foods and drinks impact how I feel in a given day. Which give me energy and which leave me feeling tired and bloated.

Because I’m more comfortable in my own skin, I’m also more comfortable in my own sexuality and that part of my relationship with my spouse has grown as we actually talk about how what we are doing makes us feel and I have let go of shame or embarrassment about how I think I look.

And in all of these three years, I’ve been a variety of different sizes. I take breaks from healthy eating. I have seasons where I push harder at the gym and where I give myself a rest. I try to focus more on what is leading to my overall health, rather than getting too wrapped up in what the scale says.

And yet… there is this part of me that still cares.

Still cares about wanting to look a certain way.

Still is uncomfortable when the scale reads over a certain number.

Still worries about the curves and love handles.

This winter, instead of a numbers based challenge, my gym is focusing on non-scale victories and so we each set three goals. And one of those primary goals for me is to get to a point where I am more comfortable in my own skin.

Where I don’t just pay attention to my body, but I love it.

I embrace it no matter what the scale says.

I respect it by taking care of it to the best of my ability.

I cherish it by holding to good boundaries between myself and others, protecting it from the actions or words that could harm it.

I celebrate it openly in the world instead of feeling shame or guilt.

I’m not there yet… but I’m working on it.

This past weekend with the Super Bowl, much has been said about Shakira and J.Lo but I have to say the very first thought I had was: look at how their bodies can move!

Here are two women, older than I am, who just shared with us a celebration of who they are with every cell of their bodies.

I saw the incredible strength it took to climb and maneuver a body on a pole. (and honestly, I thought Cirque du Soleil before someone mentioned a “stripper pole”)

I saw the sweat and hard work of incredible footwork.

I saw curves and sparkle and life and energy.

I saw a full-throated embrace of a cultural reality that is not my own through words and music and images and bodies.

I saw two women who were absolutely comfortable in their own skin… who trusted their bodies and their identity and celebrated it in front of the world.

Maybe if the first thing we see is sex, it’s because we aren’t comfortable with bodies. We aren’t comfortable with our own… or with other people’s.

Maybe it’s because we have already bought into the belief that every body is an object, rather that belonging to a person with a story and feelings that come in flesh and blood. We have no respect for the bodies of others – especially those who look or sound or think differently than us.

What if we were comfortable enough in our own skin that we could allow others to fully celebrate and be comfortable in their own without judgment or revulsion or drooling?

What if we allowed the bodies of others to teach us, inspire us, push us, free us from our own limitations?

What if we created space for all bodies, for everybody, to be celebrated and cherished, embraced and respected?

The art of cuddling

Posted on January 30, 2020Leave a comment

I remember as a little girl when my mom would sit leaning on her side on the sofa and I could curl up in the cozy little spot that her legs made. It felt like it was a spot just for me. A place of safety and warmth and love.

As an adult, my spouse and I don’t have children – but we do have cats that like to cuddle.

Turbo is very extra particular about how he likes to cuddle. Usually, it is at the most inconvenient time (like when you are sleeping) and he has to be touching a minimum of two body parts at once (like an arm and your chest, or your head and your neck, or your leg and your stomach) and it takes him 15 minutes of moving around and going back and forth before he flops down exactly where he wants to be.

Tiki on the other hand wants a spot that is just far enough away for him to be self-differentiated. He’s a cat after my own heart, because his favorite spot is the same one I gravitated towards as a child, snuggled in the bend of a leg when someone is reclining or sleeping.

During this time away on renewal leave, I’ve had some really great time available to cuddle with my spouse. For some reason, cuddle time had been relegated to bedtime and we had found ourselves in the habit of keeping our own spaces the rest of the day. On the couch there is often a throw pillow or a whole cushion between us. Or we find ourselves in separate rooms all together, watching our own shows or doing our own thing. That is when I’m not spending my evenings and weekends at church.

But one afternoon last week, we cuddled on the chaise together for nearly two hours in the middle of the afternoon. There was nothing on the television… it was just us. We watched it snow. We giggled. We made plans for the coming week. We discussed some things we had been neglecting. We simply rested in one another’s presence. It was a place full of warmth and safety and love.

It struck me how long it has been since we had simply spent that time with one another… in not just close physical proximity, but that mental and emotional and spiritual kind of way, too. In that kind of way that blurs the line between where one begins and another ends.

I’ve been reading Cloud and Townsend’s book “Boundaries” during my renewal leave ( I have a lot of thoughts about this book – some positive and others not so much – but that’s probably another blog post), and one of the key messages throughout is that bonding is key to building good boundaries. In order to set boundaries, you need to know that you are loved, safe, and accepted. You need to know that in conflict, those things don’t and won’t change.

It’s why that space curled up with my mom was so important as a kid. I knew that no matter what, she was going to be there for me.

It was vital in the early stages of my relationship with Brandon. We would sit for hours in the back of his truck and cuddle up stargazing. We would sit close at movies with arms around one another. We would hold hands in the parking lot at school and talk until it got dark. Whenever we traveled with family, especially in those early years, I could tell the anxiety of the new places and people and relationships could all be soothed away at night when we snuggled in close together… just the two of us.

But it is also something that my spouse and I have been neglecting a bit in our relationship. When our time was occupied with chores and dinner and television watching an arms length apart, we were not reinforcing that message for one another. And in fact, some of the other messages we were sending had nearly the opposite effect.

We’ve been cuddling a bit more. Creating space for one another on the couch while watching a show. Intentionally stopping by one another’s space even when doing separate things to offer a squeeze or rub a shoulder or just cuddle for a minute. And taking time to literally stop everything and simply be present with one another.

I think it’s helping us to re-establish for one another that safe place of acceptance and love that has allowed us to engage in some other conversations in our life with a different sort of energy.

Salvaging Faith in 2020

Posted on January 22, 2020Leave a comment

It’s been a while.

A long time since I just sat down to write without a deadline looming.

Without it being someone else’s project.

Without the pressure to say just the right thing for a specific audience.

It’s been a long time since I wrote just for me.

I started this blog in the summer of 2007 as a place to reflect and muse and capture all of the parts of myself, my story, my tradition that were important to keep carrying with me into the future. In many ways, the idea of salvaging all of these pieces of faith were intended to be a way of curating ideas that had value and meaning and importance in my life.

It never really mattered if anyone else read these pages, although it has been really nice to have company along the way 🙂

But somewhere in the midst of the busyness of church and other people’s projects and my marriage I just stopped writing. I stopped reflecting. I stopped looking around and processing what was happening in my life in this particular way.

But I have some time now.

Monday began a four week renewal leave from my church and one of my primary goals was to spend some of my time right here at the keyboard. Not because there is anything important I have to say, but because the very act of thinking and writing and processing itself is a spiritual practice that has been missing from my journey.

The fact that it took me a day or two to actually sit down with the laptop says a little bit of something about the hesitation that I’m feeling about doing so. I think, in part, that is because so much of my life lately has revolved around the church. I’m afraid that if I sit down to write, I’ll just get sucked back in to it all. That I’ll lose my ability to truly disconnect for a few weeks and re-center myself in who I am.

So for now, here’s a list of things I’d like to write about:

How the Rooney Rule (and its mixed results) might provide guidance for the draft Book of Doctrines and Disciplines proposed by the WCA
Does wanting to preserve the parts of our connectional nature and structure that are working make me an institutionalist? And if so, can I live with / accept that label? What does it mean to salvage the best parts of who we are and take them with us into the future, instead of starting over?
Why I think the Protocol is our best option for the mission of the church to make disciples and transform the world
What I’ve learned about what it means to equip the saints… the hard way… from failing to do so and overfunctioning in a mid-sized church.

There.

Now those things are set to the side and off my mind. I might pick them back up in the next few weeks. Or maybe not.

After all, this leave is not about the UMC or my local church or my ministry there. It is about looking out at everything else in my life. My marriage, my family, my relationship with God, the things that make me laugh and feed my soul, my friendships. It is about taking some time to dig through everything else that makes me me and working to salvage the things I might have discarded or ignored or let lie fallow for a bit.

To pick up those pieces and put them back together in a way that feels whole and good and right.

And to relearn how to preserve and protect them so that when I head back to work, they don’t take a back burner.

An Altogether Peace

Posted on December 8, 2019Leave a comment

Text: Ephesians 4: 1-4, 21-32

Often when I’m writing a sermon there is an audience in mind.
I ask God what it is that we, as the people of Immanuel, need to hear.
Sometimes the sermon is only for a portion of our community…
meaning sometimes it’s a teaching sermon meant to challenge those who want to go deeper.
Sometimes it is a creative sermon for those left-brain thinkers.
Sometimes I’m focused on a more basic concept for those who are newer to faith.

Today, I’m going to confess, is a sermon for me.
To be honest, it probably applies to many of you, too.
But it’s the sermon I need to hear.

I was reading through the chapter on “An Altogether Peace” in preparation for this week and felt like it was like an x-ray of my soul.

“Think about the lack of peace within your own heart,” Magrey DeVega writes. “About the unsettledness you feel about your future, the conflict you have against your own inner demons of guilt and shame, and the inability you have to tame the wild horses of anger, fear, and powerlessness… Oh, we do our best to project an ‘almost peace’… We cover up our insecurities, we put on a good face amid the chaos to convince others – and even ourselves – that things are better than they are. But on the inside, deep down inside, we are far from peaceful. We might even be afraid.” (p.15)

There is so much unsettledness in my life right now.
Unsettledness about the United Methodist Church…
Unsettledness in some personal relationships…
Feelings of anger and powerlessness as I try to imagine ways forward…
Guilt and shame for not doing more…
One of you came up to me after the Town Hall gathering last Monday night and mentioned how poised I was answering the questions that were asked… and I realized in the aftermath… I can talk about all of these things that are happening clearly and I can project that “almost” peace… but if I were to really dive into how I’m feeling about it – I would probably just altogether fall apart.

Tomorrow night at our Administrative Council meeting, one of the things we will be voting on is the recommendation already approved by our Staff Parish Relations Committee that I take a renewal leave from mid January through mid February.

According to our Book of Discipline and the strong encouragement of our Bishop, clergy are supposed to take at least four weeks of renewal leave every four years. My last leave was in the summer of 2015, so it is time… maybe past time… for another one of these times of rest and renewal.

On the one hand, I need time to connect once again to that “hidden source of calm repose,” as Charles Wesley so eloquently described God.
Just as we are looking at John Wesley’s sermon, we’ve been exploring some of Charles’ hymns.

As verses three and four of his hymn, we are reminded:
God is our rest in toil, our ease in pain, the healing of our broken hearts….
In war, God is our peace.
In loss, God is our gain.
God is the one who allows us to smile even in the face of the tyrant’s frown.
In God, we find glory and a crown where we had only before been filled with shame.
Plenty in our need, power in our weakness, freedom for our bondage, light in our darkness, joy in our grief…

When everything felt like it might be falling apart for the disciples – Christ gave them his peace.
As DeVega reminds us, It wasn’t like the Roman peace – the pax romana – which came by brute force and conformity and oppression for all who opposed their power.
No, the peace of Christ is different. “[it] would not be sustained by fear or oppression. It would not be born of anger or revenge. This peace would not be through the accumulation of power. It would be born of love.” (p. 24)

So, this Advent, when everything feels like it might be falling apart, my troubled and unsettled heart is waiting…
Waiting for Christ to breathe his spirit of peace upon me like he did those disciples.
Waiting for the altogether peace of Christ to be born once again into my heart.

But the other reason I need that time of renewal is that peace is not only an inward sentiment.
It is also an outward and communal and public demand of our faith.
And I need to connect with that “source of calm repose” if I’m going to help lead our church and our community through the coming year.

You see, just like the first-century Christians Paul was writing to in Ephesians, we find ourselves in a world that is fractured by power and tribalism.
If we were not in the midst of a debate about the inclusion of LGBTQ+ people in our church, something else would be creating turmoil.
We lack peace not only in the church – but also in our families, our state, our nation, because we have stopped seeing one another as people who are worthy of forgiveness, mercy, and justice.

I once believed that the opposite of peace was war.
I believed that we would finally have peace in our lives when we laid down our weapons and stopped fighting.
But I’m not sure that is true anymore.
Even if all the swords and guns in the world were destroyed does not mean that peace will come.
Peace, you see, must be bigger than a lack of conflict.
Peace must encompass more than the fights we find ourselves in.

The peace that we seek is like the peace of Isaiah in chapter 65….

I will rejoice over Jerusalem
and take delight in my people;
the sound of weeping and of crying
will be heard in it no more.
20 “Never again will there be in it
an infant who lives but a few days,
or an old man who does not live out his years;
21 They will build houses and dwell in them;
they will plant vineyards and eat their fruit.
23 They will not toil in vain
or bear children doomed to misfortune;
25 The wolf and the lamb will feed together,
and the lion will eat straw like the ox…

In the Hebrew Scriptures THIS VISION, lifted up by the prophets, is Shalom.
Shalom is a Hebrew word that means peace, not only in terms of fighting and conflict – but it describes the wholeness of life.
This isn’t just a world in which there isn’t conflict, but there is life!
As one commentator put it, “everything fits together, the relationships work like they were designed to, and things just work right.” (http://listeningtoscripture.com/Textual_Studies/Isaiah/12isaiahspeace.html)
Paul Hanson says that shalom is “the realm where chaos is not allowed to enter, and where life can be fostered free from the fear of all which diminishes and destroys.”

Doesn’t that sound amazing?
A life free from the fear of all that could destroy us?
A life of fullness of health and prosperity for not only yourself, but others too?
We keep talking in the church about schism and conflict and fighting…
What would it look like if we let shalom guide the decisions we make in the next year together.
What would it look like if let go of our fears of all that might destroy us and instead focused on creating a church of health and prosperity for all?
What if we sought the unity of the Spirit and remembered we were called together into one body by the one Lord and God and Father of all?
What if that image of peace we shared with the children included progressives and traditionalists, blacks and whites, straight folks and LGBT folks gathered together, breaking bread, sharing ministry?

How do we get there?
Well, in his letter to the Ephesians, Paul has some advice about what it means to allow the breath of God, shalom, peace, to unite us together by the Spirit.
Magrey DeVega summarizes them into seven points in our “Almost Christmas” study, but if I were to whittle them down even farther, I’d put Paul’s lessons this way:
Seeking peace means that we have to be willing to put another person at the same level as ourselves.

We have to hold them in high enough esteem and worth that we are willing to speak the truth to them without manipulating or distorting or demeaning.
And we have to value them enough that we don’t let our anger pour over into diminishing them as a person through our words or actions.
We have to believe that they are worthy of the same love, forgiveness, compassion and respect that we ourselves have received from Christ.

It’s easy to say those things…
It’s far harder to live them.
There is a person in my life that makes my blood boil. When they enter the room, I can feel my heart rate go faster.
Maybe you know someone like this?
Maybe that co-worker who is just incredibly annoying…
Or your inappropriate uncle who you are upset with before they even open their mouth…
That person who just pushes all of your buttons just by existing…
Well, I was in a situation where I was around this particular person recently and I could feel it in my body…
My blood pressure was rising and I was anxious and not at all at peace.
In fact, I wanted to punch them in their face.

But I didn’t.
Seeking peace isn’t punching someone in the face.
It is being willing to see them as myself.
And so I started to pray…
John is a child of God.
John is a child of God.
John is a child of God.
And you know what…
My blood pressure went down.
I could breathe deeper.
I couldn’t do that on my own… but with God’s spirit of peace…

I have to admit, I still have work to do with this person.
I’m not yet at a place where I truly see them with enough value and worth that I can really speak the truth to them in love without letting my anger spill out all over first.
But I’m working on it.
I’m praying about it.
With God’s help…

What if those things applied here at Immanuel… ?
In our families…?
In our politics…?
How might the peace offered to us by Christ transform this world?

Jesus calls us to be peacemakers and to be a shining city on a hill, an example to all.
And Paul tells us the only way to do that is to let the Spirit of God to enter our lives and transform them.

If we were to try to do this all on our own, we’d probably go around punching people in their faces.

But what if we really did let the Spirit of Peace be born once again in our hearts.

What if we let it transform us.
To set us right inside.
To set us right with one another.
To set us right as a people.

Maybe then when the chaos and unsettledness and guilt and shame are able to melt away from our hearts… and then our community… and then our church… maybe then people will look at us with wonder and say – what is it that they have figured out?
And when they do, we can point to the One who brought us an altogether peace.
Amen.

You Are Family

Posted on April 29, 2018Leave a comment

As a child, when I feel down and skinned my knee, there was nothing I wanted more than to be held in the arms of a parent. Their soothing words helped me to know that this moment of crisis was only temporary and that I would be okay.

When I was a bit older, I suffered an injury of my own making. I had decided to stand on the landing of the staircase and leap! trying to determine just how far I could jump. I was old enough I should have known better. I was old enough that I shouldn’t have needed a parent to offer comfort. And yet, even when you know its your own fault or when you think you are too big, the comfort of a parent is still welcomed.

As we grow up or as the hurts and wounds of our lives increase, that feeling doesn’t necessarily change. In those vulnerable moments of our lives, we want to be surrounded by people that are our family… whether our biological or our chosen family. When my own dad lost a couple of fingers in a workplace accident, countless relatives made the trip up to Mayo in Rochester, Minnesota to visit him and to sit with my parents during that long recovery.

And Pastor Todd and I have joined so many of you and your loved ones around hospital beds, in pre-surgery suites, and at home, as you have navigated illness and injury as well. I always find myself incredibly honored to be able to join in those moments. They are spaces of vulnerability and intimacy, holy spaces, and it is a joy to be able to name and lift up the presence of God that accompanies you on your journey.

Marcia McFee reminds us that we feel “at home” whenever we are in a place and surrounded by people where it is safe to be vulnerable. Where we can bring our full selves – wounds, scars, faults and all, and we are still loved and accepted. There, in that space, among those people, we are family.

You accidently back the car into the garage, but you know you will still be loved.

You fail a test at school, but there will still be dinner on the table.

A difficult diagnosis comes at the doctor’s office and there is someone beside you holding your hand.

You lose your job, but there are people who have your back and will support you until you are back on your feet.

You can share your struggles and you know they will be heard and that somehow you will be okay.

But, many of us have not experienced family in that way.

The homes some of us grew up in were not safe spaces.

Maybe it was the constant demand for perfection…

Or Alcoholism…

Neglect…

Or maybe even just that Midwestern work-ethic… Iowa nice… that invited you to always put on a smile because we don’t talk about our problems.

Or perhaps there has been a disagreement or a conflict that grew so impassioned that no one feels safe to authentically be themselves or to speak more than surface level small talk – fearing rejection or the dissolution of relationship.

My heart grieves when I hear about young people who are on the streets because they have fled from a home where they are not safe or where they have not be accepted.

I lament the brokenness of so many of our homes… that busyness and conflict have turned so many families into strangers that simply share space with one another.

And I am particularly saddened when I discover ways that this family, this community – the church, has turned their back on one of their children or has not been there in a time of need.

The church is like any human institution. It is full of imperfect people who make mistakes.

And yet, we claim to follow Jesus, and that is supposed to make a difference in the way we love and treat one another.

Perhaps that is why the disappointment is even greater… I expect more of us.

Today, and throughout this week, the bishops of the United Methodist Church are gathering to be in a time of discernment around how we might continue to live together as a family. I invite you to join with me in prayer about how we might truly, authentically, bring our full selves into relationship with one another and how we might offer love and acceptance to even those with whom we mightily disagree.

It is not an easy time for our church or for this particular church.

But when I think about where we lose our way and why we might have forgotten what it means to be a family, I begin to wonder if maybe we have forgotten who we follow.

Maybe we have become so preoccupied with rules…

So busy thinking about physical structures…

Too worried about how something sounds or how long we have been gone…

We have stopped paying attention to the one who called us here in the first place.

In the epistle this morning, this first letter from John, we are urged to consider the kind of love that the Father has given to us. “What marvelous love the Father has extended to us! Just look at it – we’re called children of God! That’s who we really are… and that’s only the beginning. Who knows how we’ll end up! What we know is that when Christ is openly revealed, we’ll see him- and in seeing him become like him. All of us who look forward to his Coming stay ready, with the glistening purity of Jesus’ life as a model for our own…”

We see God’s marvelous love through Jesus Christ. The one who was born into a human family. Who took on our flesh. Who relied upon the care of a mother and a father. Who created a family of disciples. Who reached out to touch people in their brokenness and offer forgiveness and healing. And who ultimately took our sin and our shame to the cross and who died for our sake.

We are called to keep our eyes on Jesus.

And when we do so, we remember that although his heart was pure, his body was far from perfect.

He bore within his very skin and bones the wounds of God’s love for us.

When he appeared among the disciples after his resurrection, those wounds were not something to be hidden and they did not magically go away.

No, Jesus invited them to reach out and touch his hands and his feet.

These disciples were the same ones who had rejected him and turned their backs.

They had not caused his physical wounds, but they had certainly caused harm through their actions.

And yet, Jesus shows up, right there in their midst, offering love, forgiveness, and acceptance.

Not hiding how he has been hurt, but through is hurt, sharing God’s love.

Henri Nouwen, in his reflection on the Wounded Healer reminds us that “nobody escapes being wounded. We are all wounded people, whether physically, emotionally, mentally, or spiritually. The main question is not, ‘How can we hid our wound?’ so we don’t have to be embarrassed, but ‘How can we put our woundedness in service of others?’ When our wounds cease to be a source of shame, and become a source of healing, we have become wounded healers.”

In the church, there are certainly wounds that abound among us. Physical illness. The damage of an unkind word. And unintentionally brush-off. Mistakes and missteps. The pain of being gone too long. The feeling that we are not good enough to offer our gifts or our talents. But if we truly were to follow the example of Christ in this building, in the United Methodist Church, in our Christian families, then those wounds, that brokenness would find safe space here. We would find that we are able to be present with one another and offer peace and forgiveness. We wouldn’t hide our illness, but would invite others to journey with us and pray for us. We would not be ashamed of physical limitations, but would celebrate the ways we can serve. We would speak truth and peace to those who have hurt us – just as Jesus invited us to in Matthew chapter 18.

In a family, among loved ones, wounds are healed. Hurts are forgiven. Faults are accepted.

And God our Parent, Christ our Brother has called you into this place so that you might know that love that so far surpasses any earthly love you might ever experience.

And as our God loves us, we are called to love and accept and offer healing and forgiveness to one another – one family, united by Christ.

May it be so.

Rising Strong: Failing and Falling

Posted on May 21, 2017Leave a comment

In this “Rising Strong” series, we have remembered a few things so far about what it means to live as children of the resurrection.

First – we have to be ourselves. God has uniquely created us with gifts and skills and has put us in this place for this time. We shouldn’t spend our days trying to be someone we are not. We need to learn to love and embrace who God has made us to be.

Second – we should wholeheartedly put ourselves to work for the Kingdom of God. If you are a fisherman – go out there and fish for people. If you are an accountant, go out and count people for Christ. If you are a mom or a dad or a grandparent, love every person you meet as a child of God. Take the life God has given you and use every minute of it to serve the Lord.

We are called to take both of those things and put them into practice. So, if you haven’t already filled out or turned in the “Gifts and Talents” booklet that we handed out last week – this is your opportunity. It is one way you can let us know here at the church what are some of the ways you are willing to be yourself and go all in for God. There is a box at the back of the sanctuary to turn them in, or you can drop them off in the office. There are also some blanks there, as well.

Today, we are going to ask what happens next…

What happens when you figure out who you are and you give it all to God?

Let’s pray:

In the past six weeks, I joined a gym… a “transformation center”… and spent some intentional time focusing on my own health and well-being. I’m now twenty pounds lighter and trying to figure out how to keep up the effort without the strict diet and accountability of the group I worked out with.

One of the things that we talked a lot about during those six weeks was failure.

Every week, there would be at least one exercise where our goal was to do as many as possible. Whether it was sit ups or planks, a dead lift or overhead press, the goal was to increase either the weight or the duration of the exercise so that you physically could not do one more rep.

Now, this was not how we were supposed to exercise every muscle every time. But the general idea was that if you weren’t pushing yourself and trying to really grow, you wouldn’t.

Arnold Schwarzenegger once said, “the last 3 or 4 reps is what makes the muscle grow. This area of pain divides the champion from someone else who is not a champion. That’s what most people lack: having the guts to go on and say they’ll go through the pain, no matter what happens.”

What most people lack is the guts to go on.

We lack the drive to be willing to push ourselves to failure.

In our gospel reading this morning, the disciples of Jesus Christ are in a boat. They have been sent by Jesus to head off and get ready for a new ministry adventure, but they have been kept up by everything that is going on outside of the boat. The wind is blowing, the waves are strong, and they are a bit fearful of what lies ahead. They really don’t know if Jesus will be on the other side of the lake in the morning.

We are a lot like those disciples. We are all here, because at some point we responded to the call of Jesus Christ in our lives and we showed up. We heard the call and got into the boat, even if we didn’t quite know where this boat was headed.

But, like the disciples, we also really want Jesus to come with us, to be with us, and we are afraid to push off from the shore out into the world.

In some ways, I think that is where our church is right now. We are hanging out in this boat that has kept us safe. You’ve been kept your heads above the waters and have navigated lots of storms. But the winds of the spirit have been blowing and have been moving among us, and I think that in many ways, we are now finding ourselves in uncharted waters – we are just a little ways from the shoreline that we are used to.

Right out there with the disciples. They found themselves in stormy waters, in unfamiliar territory, in a place they thought Jesus couldn’t possibly be. So much so, that they didn’t recognize Jesus when he showed up in the middle of the night.

Only Peter was brave enough, courageous enough, only Peter had the guts to go on and seek Jesus out there on the water.

He remembered who he was and who God was.

He remembered the ways that Jesus had called him to follow and the amazing things that could be accomplished in God’s name.

And he took the risk to step out of the boat… to be foolish and daring and to trust where the Spirit is leading.

He didn’t let his head tell him “no” when his heart was screaming “yes”.

And he walked on water.

Well, for a minute.

He got scared. He stumbled. He started to fall.

By all accounts, Peter failed.

But the thing is, he took the chance where no one else had.

He pushed himself far enough that he could fail, that he might fail, and while he did – it also meant that he was the only one who was in a place to grow from that experience.

In his book, Failure: Why Science Is So Successful, neuroscientist Stuart Firestein points out all the ways the scientific process guarantees failures and flops.

There are very few eureka moments or big discoveries compared with the thousands of failures and flops that happen along the way.

But every one of those failures is an opportunity to learn, tweak, grow, and do something different.

Every one of those failures allows you to learn a new limit or boundary and to push past it.

As a church, maybe we should embrace not only the art of ministry, but also the science of ministry.

We should take big enough risks and have the guts to try new things if the Spirit is leading us.

And we should not be afraid to fail and to fall flat on our face.

Because every time we do, we have the chanced to process, evaluate, and make adjustments.

When you turn in your Gifts and Talents booklet, here is the thing I want you to remember. You don’t have to be perfect in order to offer your gifts to God. None of us are. You will make mistakes. You will need others to help you and teach you. And you might even discover that something really isn’t for you. But you will never know what your limits are and how God might stretch you unless you offer yourself!

As a community, that also means that we need to be open and ready to surround people with love when they offer themselves and work for God’s kingdom, fully expecting that there will be mistakes along the way.

Innovation and discover take time, patience, grace, and a familiarity with failure. Holy failure. The kind of failure that means you are constantly moving on towards perfection – without judgment for where you have been.

God isn’t done with us yet… so may we have the courage to be ourselves, go all in, and make a whole lot of holy failures… knowing that Jesus (and this community of faith) is right here, ready to catch us.

Amen.

Six Week Challenge

Posted on March 31, 20171 Comment

I stepped on the scale about two months ago and the number was higher than my previous personal highest. I was busy, in the midst of finishing up writing a book, and knew I didn’t have the time and energy to do anything about it.

Now that its a few months later, the book is finished and I have realized that taking care of myself isn’t something that can or should be put off. So I signed up for a six week challenge through a local “transformation center” and I’m going to give this a go.

There is a very strict nutritional plan that goes along with said challenge, and I’m working hard to keep myself on track. Basically, every meal has 4 oz of protein, 2 oz of carbs, and unlimited vegetables.

I spent today doing a bunch of meal planning and some of my food prep. Although I might get a little bored with my meals, I’m going to stick to the plan! Pinterest has been a great friend here!!!

Breakfast:

Steel Cut Oatmeal: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/92183123603653229/
– put into 1/2 cup muffin tins. Based on the amount I cooked up in one batch, I should have 12 days worth of servings with 2 “muffins” each.

Egg White and Spinach Muffins: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/92183123603652268/
– I made the turkey sausage today (a big batch) and I’ll make the omelets tomorrow. I’m planning on 3oz egg white and 1 oz sausage per muffin

Lunch and/or Dinner:

Sheet Pan Chicken w/ Sweet Potatoes: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/92183123603651999/
– I adjusted this recipe per FTDI instructions and made 7 servings worth. I cut up the chicken into 4 oz portions and left out the apple & only used a spritz of oil. I’ve got 1 extra chicken breast I can use for a snack.

Tuna Lemon Rice: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/92183123603653739
– I haven’t made this yet, but plan to do up a big bunch of brown rice. I might just add the tuna/spinach/seasoning each morning I want to take it to lunch or add it in the evening

Balsamic Chicken and Veggies: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/570268371549956543/
– I haven’t made this yet, either

Cilantro Lime Chicken: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/60869032439694073/
– I have a batch of this going for tacos tonight. I plan to portion out leftovers and use for salad with brown rice and vegetables during the week.

Other things I’ve pinned for the future…