call – Page 2 – Salvaged Faith

In the Night

Posted on January 18, 2015Leave a comment

When I was in college, our chaplain encouraged us to go to this event called, “Exploration.”

It was a conference for young people who felt like they were hearing a call to ministry – a place to explore what that meant for their lives.

I don’t remember a single thing about the conference, except for one worship service.

Bishop Minerva Carcaño was preaching and before her message she read aloud for us the call of this young man we hear about today.

But even though Bishop Carcaño is from Texas, she doesn’t have a Texas drawl. She is Latina. So what sticks in my mind is her calling out, over and over again through the scripture and her message:

“Samuel! Samuel!” (heard phonetically as Sam-well!)

Hearing her say that name in such a different dialect helped me to hear the entire passage in a new way. It snuck into every corner of my mind.

The entire drive home, I thought about all of the people throughout my life who had been calling me to ministry: my pastor, a youth leader, teachers and fellow students. I realized that like Samuel, I thought I was simply hearing the voice of my pastor or my teacher. I had never stopped to consider before that weekend that perhaps it wasn’t just a human voice after all…. Perhaps God was speaking to me!

So I love this call story. It helped me to hear my own calling into ministry in a difficult time of my life.

Today, as we continue our exploration of The Light in the Darkness, I notice as I read again this passage how God calls to us in the night, in our darkness, in our times of difficulty and asks us to serve, to lead, to go.

Samuel has been serving in the temple with Eli and that night is charged with the duty of keeping the lamps burning through the night in the part of the temple where the ark of the covenant was kept.

As we learned with the peace light from Bethlehem came through, it is not easy to keep a lamp burning over night. You worry the oil will go out or the wick will burn through.

So Samuel is sleeping there on his mat in the temple so that he can get up periodically and check on the lamp.

And there in the night… in the dark… God speaks to him.

We don’t know how old Samuel might be in this part of the story, a boy is all the scriptures say, but he has spent his entire life in the temple. His mother Hannah was barren and prayed with all her might for a child.

“Lord of heavenly forces, just look at your servant’s pain and remember me! Don’t forget your servant! Give her a boy! Then I’ll give him to the Lord for his entire life. No razor will ever touch his head.” (1:11)

Her prayer was answered. So Hannah and her husband brought the child before God and left him in the care of Eli, the priest.

Out of her struggle and despair, God blessed them with not only Samuel, but five other children.

So Samuel grew up in the temple, under Eli’s care.

But I think too often we focus on how Samuel heard his call and forget to pay attention to what he was called TO.

In that time, Eli had two sons: Hophni and Phinehas, and they were the worst pastor’s kids you have ever met.

When people came to the temple to offer sacrifices, some of the meat was always given to the priests for their service. But the boys wouldn’t wait until the sacrifice was nearly over and then take their share, as was custom… but they would grab a chunk of the choicest meat right off the fire. Today, it would be like if the pastor’s child stopped the offering plates as they were being passed, took out the largest bills they could find so they could go spend it as they pleased, and then allowed everything to proceed. And they did it with threat of violence.

Not only that, but they also sexually harassed the women who served at the temple.

And Eli didn’t stop them.

Oh, he said once or twice, “you probably shouldn’t do that,” but he never actually stopped them from doing so.

And God promised that this injustice would end. God promised to establish a new, trustworthy priest and that the sign of this prophecy would be the death of Hophni and Phineas on the same day.

So God waited until Samuel, who had dedicated his life to God’s service, was nearly ready. And God called him in the night with the vision that the injustice and outrage of Eli’s household would end.

Can you imagine that?

Can you imagine growing up in a place with a vision of what was good and right and true, and yet every day having those in power and in leadership stomp all over those ideals?

That was life for Samuel. He knew the struggle of his mother. He knew he was meant to serve the Lord. And every day, he watched as Hophni and Phineas drove people away from the temple, and took advantage of them. He watched as Eli did nothing to stop it.

Yet somehow, he didn’t allow the example of his mentor and peers to turn him away from his path.

Can you imagine what it would be like to find yourself called to do something?

To proclaim a different future?

To speak light out of the darkness?

I have been inspired by the stories of young people around the world who are doing just that.

Julia Bluhm is a 16 year old dancer who saw young women around struggling with their image based on photoshopped and unrealistic images of what it meant to be a woman. So she stood up to Seventeen magazine and asked them to commit to unaltered photographs and a diverse range of girls in their magazine. In 2012, the magazine committed to never change the size of a girl’s face or body and to show real girls n the magazine.

Malala Yousafzai was just 11 when she started promoting education for girls in the Swat Valley. She was targeted for assassination and survived and continues to work to ensure all children have access to education and rights for children and young people. When asked by Jon Stewart about what gives her courage to keep going, she talks about how she decided early on to speak the truth, even in the face of someone who wants to hurt her:

If he [the Talib] comes, what would you do Malala? …If you hit a Talib with your shoe, then there will be no difference between you and the Talib. You must not treat others…with cruelty…you must fight others but through peace, through dialogue and through education…then I’ll tell him [the Talib] how important education is and that I even want education for your children as well… that’s what I want to tell you, now do what you want.

Can you imagine proclaiming a different future? Speaking light out of darkness?

Today is Human Relations Day and we celebrate this Sunday in connection with Martin Luther King Jr. Day

To quote Dr. King: Every [one] must decide whether [they] will walk in the light of creative altruism or in the darkness of destructive selfishness.

So with Samuel, we choose to seek the light of service and sacrifice, rather than to simply stand by and do nothing when we witness wrongs.

The United Methodist Church is committed to standing with those who are on the margins and who are struggling.

Rev. I Maliik Safir, whose church works with those gripped by addiction in Little Rock, sums up the work of Human Relations Day by recalling Jesus’ story of the Good Samaritan: “to meet the poor, the disadvantaged and the underserved at the places where others have robbed them and help them to recover from the wounds of social inequality.”

But I think this Sunday needs to be about more than putting a few dollars in the special offering envelope to support these important ministries. You should do that, by the way… take out that envelope and give whatever you can to help us continue to serve in these places.

But God demands more of us than simply our financial resources.

I think this is also a day when we are called to look at the world around us and ask what is happening in our midst and how are we called to proclaim a different future.

In the dark of the night, where do you hear God calling you?

Has something kept you up at night, calling you to do something?

Have you felt the tug of your heartstrings around something you are reading in the news… issues affecting Des Moines and Iowa?

Is it around issues of incarceration? Racial disparity? Poverty? Mental health?

Are you called to advocate for others?

Speak truth to power?

Is there something at work or school that just doesn’t feel right? Can you do something about it?

Sit beside someone who is struggling?

If you are… take it to the Lord. Cry out that you are ready to hear. You are listening. Ask what God wants you to do.

And feel free to come and talk with me or Pastor Todd if there is a place you think we, as the church, should be responding. Because together, we can work to let the light of Christ shine in the darkest parts of this world.

As Dr. King said:

Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.
Let us be people who are not afraid of the darkness.

Who go to the darkness.

Who listen in the darkness.

And who work to let the light shine.

Holy Ground

Posted on August 25, 2014Leave a comment

In our scripture video just now, the creators left off one snippet of a verse. Right at the very end, the Book of Romans reads:

Revenge belongs to me; I will pay it back, says the Lord. ²⁰Instead, If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him a drink. By doing this, you will pile burning coals of fire upon his head. ²¹Don’t be defeated by evil, but defeat evil with good.

Do good. Love. Feed the hungry.

What does piling burning coals of fire on someone’s head have to do with any of that?

If you are anything like my, you might have assumed this had something to do with sending someone to hell. That your actions of good will serve to highlight their deeds of evil and justice will eventually come to them.

And to tell you the truth, I’ve skipped over that verse, or ignored it, like the creators of the video did… for a long time. It doesn’t seem to fit with the rest of the scripture.

But one day, I learned about what it really meant to pile burning coals of fire on someone’s head.

As we just explored with our children, we need fire to cook our food. We need fire to warm our houses. Fire can seal up wounds and provides light in the darkness.

In the ancient world, a fire meant the difference between life and death.

So what happens when your fire goes out?

Without resources to start a fire again, you would have to go begging with your fire bowl, and pray that someone would take pity on you, and share some burning coals from their own fire with you.

Feed the hungry. Give drink to the thirsty. Pile burning coals upon even your enemies heads.

We have been called to serve. We have been challenged by Jesus Christ throughout the gospels to step out of our comfort zones and to give of ourselves to others. Even if they don’t look like us or talk like us… even if they are our enemies.

But this call doesn’t start with the Paul or the gospels…. It goes back to the beginning.

Moses was called… through fire… to help set the people free.

He was an ordinary guy, living in extraordinary times. He was the child of a slave. He was a murderer. He stuttered. And yet God got his attention through a burning bush and called him to serve.

God’s power transformed his weakness into strength. And through God’s power the people were freed.

Moses just had to show up.

Today, we are going to hear some stories of folks from this church, who were called to serve in Omaha this summer. I hope you will hear that they are ordinary folks, just like you. But they heard the tug on their heart to go, to serve, to feed the hungry, and build houses for those who were struggling. They heard the call to pile burning coals on a neighbor’s head… to help make sure they have everything they need to survive.

Along the way, they changed lives… but I hope you will also listen for how they were changed.

[sharing from members of our mission team]

The call to serve is not just for some people in the church. It is for all people. There are thousands of ways to serve.

This week, we have a special opportunity to serve and feed the hungry through Meals From the Heartland’s annual Hunger Fight. On Wednesday afternoon from 2-4 pm, we will be taking a group of 30 from the church to pack meals for those who are hungry.

We still need lots of volunteers, so if you can give a few hours to change lives… please sign up as you leave!

In two weeks, we are going to fill out our time and talents sheets. But before they show up in your bulletin, I pray that God would light a fire in your life. It might not be as dramatic as a burning bush, but wherever you feel your heart strangely warmed… wherever something out of the ordinary catches your attention… wherever you sense like you could make a difference (as ordinary as you might be)… listen.

Listen to that call to love, serve, and pray. Listen for where God is trying to get your attention.

My prayer is that as you offer yourself up for service, the fires of God’s love will transform this church, this community, and this world. And that God would transform your life, too.

Fire does that you know.

It takes what is ordinary and transforms it.

Finding Faith at the Lunch Table

Posted on May 21, 20141 Comment

If I think back to the first moment when faith sunk in deep into my life, it would be sitting around a lunch table at Simpson College.

I wasn’t actually a college student then, but a sophomore in high school participating in our Youth Annual Conference. It was hosted there at the college every year and it was an opportunity for youth leadership to be developed, new friendships to be made, and for us to explore faith in a totally different way.

I had been floating around the periphery of church for a while. I went to Sunday School a few times as a youngster. We went on Christmas Eve with my grandparents. I had been to funerals and weddings. And I had a number of friends who were Christian and often invited me along to church. But their experiences of faith were not my own. I wanted to know more about Jesus, but I never quite felt like I totally fit in with their traditions. Looking back, they were more conservative and evangelical than where I eventually ended up, so perhaps early on I was sensing that wasn’t where I belonged.

I remember vividly in the fall of my sophomore year, however, that my mom realized I had not yet been confirmed and we started going to church as a family. Both sides of our family had been United Methodist, so we went to the biggest church we could find nearby. And I was instantly hooked. I joined the youth choir and the youth bells. I started confirmation. I went to youth group. Because it was a large church, my social circle instantly expanded with students from other area high schools all becoming my new best friends. It was a really amazing time.

And that spring, we went to Youth Annual Conference. We were a small group, even though it was a large church – just my mom; the youth pastor, Todd; another student and myself. It was my first experience of holy conferencing and resolutions and voting on legistation. It was my first experience of a praise band. It was my first chance to really understand what it might mean to be United Methodist.

But it was a conversation around the lunch table that really got me hooked. Others had been debating about whether or not we should listen to pop music, but Todd had just been rapping in the lunch line the whole “Fresh Prince of Bel Aire” song. And when he finally joined in the conversation, he talked about how he had used a Judas Priest song in youth group one night. This was many years ago, but I remember he talked about redeeming rather than rejecting culture. He talked about asking better questions in the face of music and narratives and people we don’t on the surface agree with, finding out what makes them tick and what they are trying to say, so we can speak with them. And I knew, right then, that I could claim that kind of faith.

In his book, Falling Upward, Richard Rohr talks about the two halves of our lives. The time we spend creating the container for our lives (identity, security, relationships) and then the time we spend living in and discovering the life we have built for ourselves. He writes that a type of spiritual awakening or falling apart happens in between the two of them…. when we realize we can’t just keep going on and building that container for ever, we actually have to start exploring what it means to live in this life we have created.

In the life of faith, one way this can be described is the move from law to grace. In the first half of our lives, we need the rules of faith: don’t kill, love God, pray this way. Rules lay the foundations… but the law itself is not the end. Rohr quotes the Dalai Lama here: “Learn and obey the rules very well, so you will know how to break them properly.” Grace is helping the man get his oxen out of a hole on the sabbath. Grace is releasing the adulteress and telling her to go and sin no more. Grace is meeting people out of love rather than judgment.

Because I came to my faith a little bit later in life, my religious experience was never steeped in law and judgment language. That being said, I was one of those “good girls” who tried to always follow the rules. I got straight A’s. I never drank in high school, or smoked, or experimented in any way. I had enough formation in rule following in other aspects of my life.

In fact, I think in many ways, the church I discovered in places like that lunch table helped to break down and expand that initial container I had built for myself. My experiences of Jesus and religion were the catalyst for some big changes in my life. I moved from a desire to be a scientist/meterologist to a religion major. I found myself moving towards people who were all about breaking the rules…. in both healthy and not so healthy ways. But because my initial experiences of church were fairly traditional, I have maintained an ability to see and converse with all sorts of different faith languages. We don’t discard the containers we build in the first half, Rohr says, but they become the stuff we build from.

I am living in a very different sort of faith life than I ever imagined was possible sixteen years ago, when I sat down at that lunch table. I have been an advocate and fundraiser for global health. I have ministered in cities and small towns. I’m about to become the senior pastor of a mid-sized church in the city. But as I continue to live into my relationship with God, the desire to get to know and understand someone or something where it is and start from there is what continues to drive me.

Prayers from under a blanket

Posted on February 19, 2013Leave a comment

Today’s prompt begins with verse 6 of the familiar Psalm 139 (NRSV): “Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is so high that I cannot attain it.”

Look up today. Let the high places catch your eye and your imagination. Be full of wonder as you pick up your pen to pray.

Holy God, we turned up the thermostat tonight.

Outside our walls the wind is rushing and swirling and stirring up everything in sight.

It is a cold and bitter wind.

It is the kind of that makes you want to hunker down and drop your head and close the hood of your coat in tighter.

It is a wind that humbles you.

Brings you to your knees.

It moves with such power that it goes through your very bones.

Goes through the bones of the house.

Gets to the core even if you are wrapped up tight.

Sometimes, God, you blow like that in my life.

Your Spirit moves so fiercely through me that I have to back away.

I want to curl up in a ball.

I want to become small so that you won’t notice me.

But you do.

You get to me.

You get into the depths of me.

But instead of a cold and bitter wind, it is a touch of fire, a spark of movement, a calling to go and to do.

And when I hunker down and try to resist, you get me anyways.

You fill me up so that I can’t take it anymore.

And brought low to my knees I have to respond.

Speak Lord, for your servant is listening.

Called By Name

Posted on September 28, 2012Leave a comment

If I ever doubted that I was called to this ministry with Imagine No Malaria, all of that was erased as we finished training this afternoon and closed a devotion and scripture and prayer. We started with the calling of Samuel – and the voice of God calling him out by name. We moved to the call of Jacob and a night of wrestling where God names him anew.

As we listened, my heart leaped in my chest. Both of those scriptures have been the ones I have turned to when I explain the call of God in my life. I heard Bishop Carcano tell the story of Samuel’s call when I was a college student and realized for the first time that God had been calling me through the voice of important people in my life. I have always had a push/shove/pull relationship with God and the idea of wrestling and asking questions and coming through on the other side different and more faithful has been a predominant narrative of my faith journey.

To hear each of those stories once again as the capstone of four days of training for a different direction in my life was powerful. It was an affirmation that for some reason I am called to be here and to do this new position.

I have had some fears and hesitations about the gifts needed and the travel required n the position, but I am learning that how we live out this campaign in Iowa is going to be different than in other places. I have tried very hard to practice good boundaries and healthy self-care habits around my schedule and my family and I was worried that this position would demand something that I couldn’t offer. But I’m figuring out that in this position, I will actually learn a better way of delegating, empowering, and supporting those I work with so that we can all do amazing things without killing ourselves in the process.

God has called me by name. Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.

Cold front

Posted on September 12, 20123 Comments

Today a cold front moved through the state. And as I drove on the leading edge of the front and the wind blew my car around on the road, I realized my life itself was changing weather patterns.

As of today, I am still an elder serving a local congregation. But before I know it, I will be under a different sort of sky.

Already, there has been some push-back from people who aren’t quIte sure why I am doIng thIs job. My answer has not always been the most artIculate, but I’m learning to live into my new role still. Heck, I don’t know what even exists on the other side of October 1!

There has been the grief and turmoil of having to announce my end date to the local church. No one is happy… even as they know this is a good thing for the project and me. Watching their disappointment is almost too much to bear. Hearing my youth talk about how I am just another adult who has abandoned them cuts the deepest. There is a depth of perspective they can’t quite grasp today… I know that no matter when I left their feelings would be the same… but it still pulls at my heart. For a few days now, I have felt like everything is in a downward spiral… the barometer is falling fast… the winds are rising… and I want to run fast into yesterday and take it all back.

But today on the edge of that weather front, I was reminded that wind and turmoil and the grey clouds are necessary. It is the friction of what was and what will be coming into contact in the same time and place. It is the chaos of transition.

As much as I think my new position starts Oct 1 and my current position ends Sept 30, my life is a jumble of both. I am leaving notes and tying up loose ends at the same time that we are house hunting. I am planning worship at the same time I am filling out paperwork to get paid in the new job. I am preparing for my training, even as I am going to bed early so I can get up before dawn for a presurgery prayer.

And today, the first glimpses of that new world started to stir up the awareness that this is really happening. The cooler air blew in and the air feels different. It isn’t good and not bad, just different.

Now I’m waiting for the rain to finally hit… for the storm and the transition to pass by so that I can emerge into a new reality. Because this time on the edge of the storm is dark and tense and difficult.