first series of sermons: thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path… following Christ in the season of Epiphany

okay… so it’s a long title for a sermon series. But I’m starting out this new pilgrimage with my congregation by inviting them on a journey – and the Light of Christ is our guide. Last week we talked about the star that led the wise men to the Christ Child. This week, we’ll talk about the Spirit of God that came down on Jesus at his baptism – a light that lives within us and sends us forth into ministry. After that – we’ll do the calling of the disciples and the reminder that Christ is the light which shines in the darkness, calling all people to him. Finally, the trip up the mountain, and the transfiguration… more light!

It all works out in my head, but figuring out how to incorporate all of the ideas I have into these worship services – especially as I’m brand new at this is difficult. I have all sorts of experience planning worship… but a much more informal worship. I like the traditional stuff… I like doxologies and liturgy and I want to do so much with the space we are worshipping in! But… baby steps… I’m trying not to do it all at once (for my sake as much as for the congregation).

Today I’m a bit stuck as I write my sermon… this idea of the interplay between water and light keeps dancing around in my head. And then I came across a Wendell Berry poem: The Gift of Gravity

All that passes descends,
and ascends again unseen
into the light: the river
coming down from sky
to hills, from hills to sea,
and carving as it moves,
to rise invisible,
gathered to light, to return
again. “The river’s injury
is its shape.” I’ve learned no more.
We are what we are given
and what is taken away;
blessed be the name
of the giver and taker.
For everything that comes
is a gift, the meaning always
carried out of sight
to renew our whereabouts,
always a starting place.
And every gift is perfect
in its beginning, for it
is “from above, and cometh down
from the Father of lights.”Gravity is grace.

The rain that falls upon us comes from God. And it washes us clean. It surrounds us and refreshes us. But the light comes as well. It dries us off and the water evaporates. It is a cycle necessary for life. “for everything that comes/ is a gift, the meaning always/ carried out of sight/ to renew our whereabouts,/ always a starting place.” As we renew our baptismal covenants this Sunday, our whereabouts are renewed. We are given a new starting place. And we pray that the water and the light will lead us to God.

e-word #3

In the last e-word, I shared that there are two kinds of good news: the news that Jesus brings to us, and the news about Jesus the Christ. But what do you do with that good news? How do you even begin to share it with the world?

You may have noticed that West End has a new ministry called “Water at the Well.” It is an eclectic mix of events designed to help us experience God in new ways, but it comes with a commission as well: to take those experiences and share them with others. I was able to participate in the “prayer for the city” event on July 2, and in the spirit of those experiences and in the spirit of this column, I want to share with you my experience.

As a few of us sat in the Church Street Park downtown, I have to admit that I felt awkward. We had come into the heart of the city to pray for whatever we saw and experienced, and yet, in such a public place, it was also a very overt form of witness. I kept asking myself, do I have good news for these people? And how do I share it with them?

Interestingly, the park we sat in was filled with beautiful foliage, green grass, a flowing fountain; and yet the only people who took the time to stop and rest inside this space were the homeless of downtown (and the occasional dog walker). Everyone else rushed by on their lunch breaks on the hot pavement just outside the park. Which group needed the good news?

I felt incredibly voyeuristic and out of place. Who was I to bring good news to these people? Who was I to assume that they didn’t have a bit of good news already? Who is to say that they didn’t have good news to share with me!

Sensing we all felt that way, our little group simply sat on the bench in the park for about 15 minutes soaking it all in. One of us led a simple prayer – praying that we might experience God in the city during our time in that place. Almost immediately, people around us began to interact with us. We had been present for long enough that we became safe and approachable. We had been present long enough to not be a strange element in this community’s midst.

All of the recent stuff I have been reading about evangelism talks about building relationships and in the process sharing good news. We really need to get to know someone, know where they are at, and be honest about where we are as well, in order to share our stories. And we need to be a real presence in someone’s life. That is not to say that there isn’t a time and a place for random encounters with people, and that’s not to say that we can’t share the good news of God with complete strangers. But to really know what to say, you need names, you need stories and you need to be vulnerable yourself.

So what did we share with this group of people? We stopped for long enough to hear their stories and to share a bit about ourselves. We listened for long enough to hear that the good news that Christ brings to the world is needed in this community: there is addiction and mental illness and broken relationships that need healing. Yet we also listened for long enough to hear that the good news of God was present in their midst. They were a community that loved and cared for one another, and in the spirit of water at the well, they shared what they had received with one another and were able to tell another hungry beggar where to find food.

And that is precisely how Daniel Niles describes evangelism: “Evangelism is witness. It is one beggar telling another beggar where to get food. The Christian does not offer out of his bounty. He has no bounty. He is simply guest at his Master’s table and, as evangelist, he calls others too.” The good news that I gained from being present in this community was realizing that the good news God gives us to share is a gift. It does not come from our abundance or knowledge or higher moral standing. It comes in spite of us and it is meant for everyone, including ourselves. We are all hungry, and when we find a morsel of food, we should share it with others.

the e-word #2

At the end of my last column, I wrote, “to be an evangelist is simply to share the good news of God with the world.” But before we even look at how we do that sharing, what exactly is the good news? If we looked to the culture, if we tuned into any sporting event, the answer seems to be simple: John 3:16, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”

But I want to take a step back. I do think that John 3:16 is part of the good news about Jesus and about God, but not the only part. If you were to do a concordance search of the phrase “good news” in the Bible – you would find about 40 different hits (try it out at biblegateway.com). Believe it or not, a third of them are from the Old Testament, sometimes using good news in terms of the Davidic Kingdom and deliverance from enemies.

The New Testament references to good news could easily be divided into two categories, or two different types of good news. One you could call the good news of Jesus or what Jesus came to proclaim and initiate. As Jesus begins his ministry, he enters the synagogue and reads from Isaiah, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor” (Luke 4:18-19). Elsewhere it is referred to as the good news of the kingdom – a new order is to be established of the last and the least and the lost and that in and of itself is good news.

The second sort of reference to good news is the kind we typically think of: the good news about Jesus. Mark’s gospel begins, “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God,” and it is clear that what follows is good news about the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. The book of Acts goes back and forth when it comes to the phrase, a tension caught in this passage from chapter 8, verse 12: “they believed Philip as he preached the good news of the kingdom of God and the name of Jesus Christ.” It seems the good news is both that this new reign is to be established AND that Jesus is the one who has been sent to bring it about.

If we stick to simply a John 3:16 version of the good news, we find that we are missing half the picture. And from the way that we see that scripture used today, simply proclaiming the sentence is enough! Put it on a billboard, shout it from the mountaintops, knock on someone’s door, share that message and people will follow God. But evangelism will change when the message becomes about the kingdom of God and about the life, death and resurrection of Christ. The ways in which we become part of sharing that story… we’ll talk about that on another day.

why “salvaged” faith?

i’ve been struggling lately… deeply deeply struggling with how to be faithful to my experience of God and my experience of the church in the vocational path i’m am currently treading.

3 weeks ago, i was commissioned as a probationary elder in the united methodist church. and i love my tradition. and i feel called by God to be a part of the church and to share the sacraments of God’s love and grace with the world. but i also feel deep within my soul a calling to locate myself, to plant deep roots within a community and live simply. and i can’t for the life of me figure out how to do both of those things. to be an elder in my church is to be itinerant – to move at the decision of the bishop/cabinet and the church.

so, i’m trying to figure out where i stand. i’m trying to pick up the various pieces of my experience of God and my tradition and piece them together in a way that makes sense vocationally. in some ways, i feel as if i am out at sea, abandoned, and need to figure out what to take with me.

but i am also realizing that my vocational struggle has as much to do with insecurity about how my faith and theology will be recieved in the church as anything. can i truly be faithful to who I am within the four walls of a church? I have experienced so far that I can at an extremely unique congregation in nashville – but what if that isn’t always the case? how do i work to create communities such as this?

the american heritage dictionary includes these two definitions for the word salvaged:

tr.v. sal·vaged, sal·vag·ing, sal·vag·es
1) To save from loss or destruction.
2) To save (discarded or damaged material) for further use.

I think in some ways I am trying to do both… I am part of a faith journey and experience that includes many people all over the world. in some ways, what I have been experiencing lately is out of tune with what the tradition or the people around me have been doing, trying, teaching, following, etc. I want to salvage the bits of that faith that are important to carry into a postmodern world and church. I want to make sure that the “stuff” of our experience makes it and can still be of use to people in my generation and beyond.

but this is also about keeping myself from losing something vital to my soul – to share my story in a way that is authentic and real and to get it out there before it slips away. by sharing it, i hope to find people who want to walk this path as well… companions on the journey (which is kind of hokey)… who can help me remember that yes, i am walking in the right direction. this blog is about being real about who I am… the I that i am only recently discovering and remembering and living into.

thomas merton has a quote that reads:

in order to become myself, i must cease to be what i always thought i wanted to be.

for me, this means i have to stop listening to the expectations and voices of the world around me and look really really deep within and find and accept the me that is there. i need to stop trying to be someone i’m not. that’s true relationally, theologically, you name it. so – that’s what i’m doing…