journey – Salvaged Faith

Deeper Water

Posted on March 8, 2020Leave a comment

Text: Matthew 18:18-20, Luke 5:1-10

I’ll often come across a quote or a few paragraphs in a devotional that I’ll save for later, thinking – Ahh! This will make a good sermon illustration!

Today, as we think a little bit about diving into deeper water in our prayer lives, I remembered a story told by the seventeenth century French mystic Jeanne Guyon in her book, “Experiencing the Depths of Christ.”

But before I get to her writing, a little about Madame Guyon herself.

She grew up very religious, spending much of her childhood in a convent until she was forced into an arranged marriage at the age of 15.

By the age of 28, Madame Guyon was a wealthy widow with three surviving children.

But the piety of her youth was what drove her and she continued to have mystical experiences of God. She felt called to share these teachings and eventually left her children into their grandmother’s care and left behind most of her personal possessions to do so.

At one point, Guyon was imprisoned for her teachings on prayer, which focused on constant prayer and inward stillness which brings us into the presence of God. Her writings were considered heresy at the time because they prioritized stillness over vocal prayer and pious action.

So imagine this woman, who has not had an easy life. But through it all, she believed God was with her in the midst of her trials and suffering. Madam Guyon wanted others to experience the depths of a relationship with God that she herself had found.

She tells the story of a traveler who has embarked on a long journey… a quest of sorts. But when the man comes to the first inn along the way, he stops there and remains there forever.

Why?

“He has been told that many travelers have come this way and have stayed at this very inn; even the master of the house once dwelt here… Oh soul! All that is wished for you is that you press toward the end… Only remember this: Do not stop at the first stage.” (Guyon, Experiencing the Depths of Jesus Christ)

Do not stop at the first stage.

I wonder how many of us have stopped at the first stage of our prayer lives.

We recite the Lord’s prayer.

We have a few prayers we turn to before meals.

We might even have a daily devotional we pick up a few times a week that includes a prayer at the end of every reading.

But for many of us, we pray in much the same ways we did as children.

We learned some of the basics of prayer and then stopped at that stage along the way.

We forgot about our destination, what we were striving for in the first place: a life spent in the presence of God and a faith connected with the power of God.

While we spend a lot of time thinking about the prayer that Jesus taught us, we forget what else Jesus taught us about prayer.

Ask and it will be given to you.

Seek and you will find.

Knock and the door will be opened (Matthew 7:7-8 and Luke 11:9)

If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you can move mountains… nothing will be impossible (Mt 17:20)

If we ask for anything in agreement with God’s will, God listens to us… we know that we have received what we asked from God. (1 John 14-15)

And from our gospel reading today:

What your bind or loosen on earth will be bound or loosened in heaven.

When just two of us get together and pray about something, God goes into action in response. (Matthew 18:18-19)

If we pray… stuff will happen!

Not little stuff… BIG. GIGANTIC. POWERFUL. MOUNTAIN SIZED stuff!

That’s what scripture tells us.

That’s what Jesus keeps reminding us.

Prayer is powerful.

So why is it such an after thought?

Even in the church, this institution dedicated to the teachings of Jesus, prayer seems to be icing on the cake, rather than the main course.

Think about our typical response to things.

When we see a problem or we have a goal, we create a team!

We have meetings and we plan and organize and we get approval.

And then we work.

We work our tails off trying to make something happen.

And at the end of the day we find ourselves so busy and exhausted and barely one step farther along the way.

Maybe, MAYBE, we had a devotion and a prayer at some step along that journey.

But not always. And not often. And not primarily.

Martha Grace Reese reminds us that churches are not declining or struggling because we are lazy.

We work really hard.

Maybe the problem is that we aren’t praying as much as we work.

In Luke’s gospel, Simon and James and John found themselves in this very situation.

They were hard workers.

They had been up all night and put in the hours.

And yet, they had nothing to show for it.

Until they listened to Jesus’ invitation to go a little deeper.

To row out a little farther.

To push beyond what they had always done.

Was it simply that there were more fish out deeper in the water?

Surely, that can’t be it… for they knew these waters like the back of their hand.

Was it that they just put in more hours of work?

A whole nights worth of effort didn’t accomplish what miraculously came in through one toss.

No, what changed is that they had spent some time with Jesus.

And they listened to what Jesus asked of them.

In “Unbinding the Heart,” Reese shares the story of the Benton Street Christian Church and their evangelism team.

As they got started in their work, Reese asked them to not make any decisions for three months to but simply spend their time in prayer.

This was incredibly difficult for this church full of do-ers and they got frustrated that the only thing they could report was that they were praying… but they did it.

They got together and prayed.

They prayed between meetings.

They prayed every day.

They got teased a little… but then they started getting prayer requests.

And by the time their three months of prayer was done, they had vision and energy and direction and one month later had fifty people involved in the ministry.

As one of the volunteers later said, “It was incredibly difficult for these four ‘can-do’ women to wait in prayer… a year and a half later, all four of us would say our prayer lives have been permanently impacted by this experiment… the entire church is still being impacted by this willingness to risk praying first.” (p30)

Isn’t that a funny phrase…. To risk praying first?

What risk is there in praying first?

What risk is there in stopping to ask God to be present and to guide our work?

I’ll tell you what the risk is…

Something might happen.

Something might change.

And it just might be us.

Richard Foster once wrote, “prayer is the central avenue God uses to change us. If we are unwilling to change, we will abandon prayer as a noticeable characteristic of our lives.”

Or to put it another way, if we are content with the status quo, we are probably not people who turn to prayer a lot in our lives.

The opposite is also true.

If we believe God is active in the world…

If we see that something needs to change…

If we want to transform our very way of being in the world…

Then prayer has to be part of the process.

It is key to the journey.

It isn’t just one stop along the way…. It is the very road beneath our feet.

Two weeks ago, our church leadership team thought together about the work we have before us this year and the role and responsibilities each of us will play along the way.

One of the things that we focused on was our vision statement.

Can we read that aloud together?

Through personal engagement in and partnership with our community, we will live a life of love, service, and prayer, so that all who hunger might be fed by God’s grace.

We’ve been working hard on making this happen.

We try to create opportunities for people to personally engage and reach out to our partners like CFUM and Women at the Well and Simpson Youth Academy.

We focus on physical hunger through our food pantry and meal programs.

We reach out to meet that hunger for connection and relationship.

But do you know what we haven’t done.

We haven’t invited all of you to pray about this vision.

We haven’t stopped to ask God to help us accomplish this work.

As much as we talk about love, service, and prayer… as much as we even practice intercessory prayer for one another’s joys and concerns… we have not prayed as a community for our work together as a church.

It’s almost as if we took all of the power of God to bring fruit and change and life to our congregation and we locked it up in a box.

Today… let’s set the power of prayer free.

Let’s let the good news of Christ loose on the world.

Let’s turn this work over to Jesus.

Just as Christ urged Peter, James and John out into deeper waters, this next week, each day you’ll get an email inviting you to pray for Immanuel.

Not just for our people.

But for the vision God has given us.

For the work before us.

Let’s not stop at the first stage.

Let’s not be content resting before our journey is complete.

But together, let us keep pressing onward, deeper, out into that place where the presence and power of God can truly change us and this world.

May it be so. Amen.

Renew Our Whereabouts

Posted on January 13, 2020Leave a comment

Text: Isaiah 42:1-9, Matthew 3:13-17

This weekend, I’ve been gathered along with our confirmation students and mentors and teachers for a retreat. Our focus has been what makes us distinctly United Methodist. We’ve talked about our church structure, the way of discipleship, how we discover wo God is, and what we believe about grace.

Along the way, I keep thinking about how our time together was kind of a boot camp, a crash course in the foundations of who we are.

We’ve been talking about our shared theology as Christians and our place in the history of the church, but this was a chance to really step into a tradition.

To learn about it.
As questions.
Get ready to claim it as their own.

Earlier in the week, I read a lovely reflection by Debie Thomas. Her weekly essays at Journey with Jesus help pastors and laity alike reflect on the what the lectionary texts mean for us today.

This week, she wrote of her own experience being baptized and how it felt like such a personal commitment. She was choosing Jesus. It was all about her and her faith in that moment. As a young girl, she believed it was all about what she was doing, her obedience, her choice.

But when she thinks back on the story we just shared with you of Jesus going to the River Jordan to be baptized by John, she didn’t see it as a personal stepping out.

Instead, she saw it as stepping in.

“A stepping into a history, a lineage, a geography, an identity. In receiving baptism, Jesus doesn’t set himself apart from us; he aligns himself with us.”

For a normal person, that wouldn’t be a big deal…
To identify with others…
To join in what they were doing…

But this was Jesus!
He didn’t need us.
He didn’t need to repent and be forgiven.
He didn’t need to humble himself that way in those dirty waters of the river.

But he did.

Debie Thomas reminds us that the very first public act of Jesus was to step into our lives.
He submitted to John the Baptist… because he gives away his power.
He entered the Jordan River, that sacred place filled with so much history.

“Jesus stepped into the whole Story of God’s work on earth, and allowed that story to resonate, deepen, and find completion.”

Although it was only last week we were thinking about the babe in the manger and the wise ones who visited, this was really the first public act of Jesus.

For many at the time, this moment was the beginning of their encounter with Christ.
It was the first moment that they recognized what God was doing in their midst.
And when the Servant of God, the Beloved One, appeared before them, it wasn’t a spectacle.
It wasn’t to take over.
It wasn’t to transform everything in an moment.

It was an invitation.
An invitation for us to step in as well.
An invitation for us to surrender.
A invitation for us to enter that tradition, that history, that community of faith that has gone before us.

As Debie Thomas writes,

“To embrace Christ’s baptism story is to embrace the core truth that we are united, interdependent, connected, one. It is to sit with the staggering reality that we are deeply, deeply loved.”

I remember the day my youngest brother Darren was baptized.
He and my mom had transferred to a new church and they had missed a window for confirmation, so when it came around again, he signed up.

Unfortunately for Darren, this new church held confirmation during the seventh grade year, and he was a junior in high school.
He was about a foot and a half taller than the rest of his classmates, but Darren went through the entire class with them and was confirmed that spring.

I got to be there the day my little brother was confirmed and baptized and it was such a special moment.
All throughout the class, while he had been slightly out of place, those young kids looked up to him and they grew to be great friends.
As Darren knelt to be baptized, the pastor invited friends and family to come up and lay their hands on him.
Every single one of the kids in that confirmation class came forward and stood around us and reached out their hands to affirm and bless him.
It was quite powerful.

Darren’s baptism reminded me that whether we are young or old, whether we remember it happening to us or not, our baptisms are not private or personal events.

We are baptized in the midst of the church because those who surround us are also making commitments and vows:
the church affirms its own faith
the church pledges to act as spiritual mentors for those being baptized
the church vows their ongoing support.

In our United Methodist resources on baptism it claims that the covenant of baptism “connects God, the community of faith, and the person being baptized; all three are essential to the fulfillment of the baptismal covenant.”

Every baptism is a chance for the whole congregation to reaffirm our faith and to progress farther on the journey with Christ.

We are all stepping into live together.
“United, interdependent, connected, one.”
We are remembering that each of us, every single one, is deeply loved.

And whenever we remember our baptisms,
We have a chance to refocus on Jesus.
We have a chance to renew our whereabouts.
We have a chance to re-engage our spirits.

As we heard from the book of Isaiah this morning:
“Here is my servant, whom I uphold, in whom my soul delights; I have put my spirit upon him; he will bring forth justice to the nations… I am the LORD, I have called you in righteousness… I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations”

And this calling, this ministry is sealed when the Spirit of the Lord descends upon him in the waters of the River Jordan.

We are remind of the spirit of God hovering over the waters in creation and God speaking, “Let there be light.”

God shows up and new life is among us.
The new creation.
New things that God declares.
A new journey for us to take.

And through our baptism, Isaiah’s servant of God… Matthew’s beloved… invites us to follow.
The light of Christ becomes part of us.
His mission becomes our own.
His journey becomes our path.

I’m reminded of a poem from Wendell Berry called the Gift of Gravity.

For those of you who don’t know Berry, he is a writer and a farmer from Kentucky who often writes about the ordinary and mundane ways that God shows up in our lives. Hear these words about the river, about the light, about the cycle of giving and taking.

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 and snow that falls upon us comes from God.
It washes us clean.
It surrounds us and refreshes the ground upon which we walk…
But the light comes down from God as well.
It melts the snow and ice and warms the earth and the moisture 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.”

To renew our whereabouts… always a starting place.

Like rain and light, grace is poured down upon us from God.

Whether you first stepped into the faith through baptism 1 year ago or 90 years ago, grace always gives us a fresh start.

As Berry writes, it comes down upon us to renew our whereabouts… it is always a starting place.

These waters are new life for us now.
They are the chance to re-enter the journey.
To recommit to these people.
To re-energize your spirit.
To refocus on Jesus.

After all, as Debie Thomas reminds us,

“He’s the one who opens the barrier, and shows us the God we long for. He’s the one who stands in line with us at the water’s edge, willing to immerse himself in shame, scandal, repentance, and pain — all so that we might hear the only Voice that will tell us who we are and whose we are in this sacred season. Listen. We are God’s chosen. God’s children. God’s own. Even in the deepest, darkest water, we are the Beloved.”

This is the promise of God… Amen.

The Wilderness: God Provides

Posted on April 14, 2019Leave a comment

Text: Deuteronomy 29:2-6, Mark 1:12-14

A few years ago, I was asked to plan worship for our semi-annual clergy gathering. My team had everything arranged and ready to go. I just had to make sure to arrive early enough in the morning that I could meet with the technical engineer to set up the microphones and other electronics we would need that morning.
At this point in my life, I was not a morning person. And in order to get halfway across the state, I had to be out the door of my house by 5:30 am.
The alarm went off at 5:00.
I turned it off and promptly pulled the covers back over my head.
Every fiber of my being wanted to go back to sleep. So I did.
Notice, I didn’t hit the snooze button. I turned the alarm off, and fell back to sleep.
Ten minutes later, something woke me up.
Whether it was the rustle and squacks of the birds in the tree, or a cat pouncing on my legs in the bed or just some kind of internal switch – I woke up.
And I remember very distinctly taking a deep breath and saying – thank God.
I didn’t mean it in an offhand, irreligious kind of way.
I was grateful to God that I had woken up.
I was grateful to God that although my body was not ready or willing, God was making sure I was going to be able to answer the call I had received.
I was grateful to God, because God provided.

How many of you have heard of the word “providence”?
What exactly does “providence” mean?
The word originally comes from the Latin providentia – and has to do with foresight, prudence, the ability to see ahead. So when we talk about God’s providence – we think of God’s ability to provide for, to direct, to shape the future.
Martin Luther understood providence to be both the direct and indirect work of God in the world. Not only does God provide the good things we need for human life – but God also works through family, government, jobs, and other people. “We receive these blessings not from them, but, through them, from God.”
John Wesley in his sermon “On Divine Providence,” speaks of the care that God has for all of creation and claims, “Nothing is so small or insignificant in the sight of men as not to be an object of the care and providence of God, before whom nothing is small that concerns the happiness of any of his creatures.”
It is intimately related to his idea of prevenient grace, in that God has already laid the foundation for all people to come into a saving relationship with God.
And so, providence is the way that God cares for the universe – upholds the universe – and also the special ways that God extraordinarily intervenes in the lives of God’s people.

Throughout this journey through the wilderness, God’s providence has been all around.
We have remembered together that our ancestors were a stubborn and rebellious people.
They witnessed miracles!
They were released from bondage in Egypt…
they passed through the Red Sea…
they were led through the desert by cloud and light…
they were fed by manna and quail…
they drank pure clear water from rocks in the midst of the wilderness…
and yet they doubted and tried to go their own way.
Yet they did not, could not, would not believe that God would continue to provide.
God did.
The words shared with us in the book of Deuteronomy come from the end of a forty year journey through the wilderness.
For forty years… longer than I have been alive… God led them. God fed them. God provided.
As Moses reminds the people on the edge of these promised land:
You couldn’t make bread or ferment wine because you were not in a place where you could raise grain or grapes… you had to rely upon God and God provided.
The clothes and sandals that you are wearing come from the same fabric and resources you had when you fled from Egypt… and they have protected you from the elements for all of these years.

I meant to bring it today because this piece of clothing is a sermon in and of itself, but my husband still has a t-shirt from elementary school that he wears.
We think the shirt is just over twenty-five years old, but since it hasn’t fallen apart completely, he refuses to add it to the rag pile.
When he worked in the Amana factory, he cut the sleeves off making it sleeveless.
The fabric itself is so worn that it is nearly see-through.
Now, it has become a staple of our summer adventures on the boat and we joke that the shirt has a Sun Protection Factor of 15.

When I think about the wear and tear on that one item of clothing that is worn only a dozen or so times a year, I am astonished by the way God provided for the Israelites all throughout that journey in the wilderness.
There were not laundromats or department stories in the Sinai.
No places to trade or barter for the raw materials.
Just the cloth and creatures they had when they fled from Egypt.
What little they had sustained them for forty years.
God clothes the lilies of the field (Matthew 6:25-34) and God clothed the Israelites in the wilderness.
Why do we doubt God will provide for us?

For most of our season of Lent, we have explored how Jesus’ forty days in the wilderness echoes the journey of the Israelites. Faced with some of the same trials and temptations, he shows us how to trust in God and not seek our own way.
Mark’s account of this time is very different however.
The entirety of his journey is summed up in one single verse:
“He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.” (1:13)
Matthew, too, pulls out that final detail in his account, tell us that when the devil left, angels came and took care of him.
God shows up again in the wilderness.
And God provides.
God cares for and tends to every need of Jesus during this liminal time.
Food, water, protection from those wild creatures, companionship.
God provides.

And as our Palm Sunday account reminds us, God is providing at the end of Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem as well.
Before they even get to the city, the colt is ready.
It is tied up just where Jesus tells the disciples it would be.
And the strange and wonderful part of this account is that when they tell the owner that it is the Master who needs it, there are no more questions!

As they enter the city, the disciples break into song, shouting “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!”
And when the Pharisees grumble and complain, begging Jesus to tell them to be quiet lest they make a scene and disturb the Romans, Jesus tells them that this awareness of God’s blessing and providence in their midst is so powerful, so noticeable, that if the disciples closed their mouths the very rocks of the earth would start to shout!

And we cannot forget that this entrance into Jerusalem is the beginning of another act of providence in our lives.
For the rest of the journey this week takes us through the gates, to the upper room, the garden, the trial and ultimately to the cross.
In the very life and death of Jesus, God has provided a way for us to be reconciled… to our sin, to one another, to creation, and to ultimately, to God.

Over and over again in the Psalms, we are asked to tell the coming generations about the glorious deeds of God.
We want them to set their hope in God and to know that God will provide for their future.
But I think this act of proclamation is also for us.
When we remember how God has already provided, we find confidence for our future.

Our denomination, the United Methodist Church is wandering through the wilderness right now and we aren’t sure where the end of our journey will be.
But this past week, I gathered with others in Atlanta to celebrate that we have been in mission together for 200 years.
200 years ago, a free black man named John Stewart was a drunk and penniless and falling apart. But one night on the way home, he heard singing and he stumbled into a Methodist revival happening in the woods. His life was forever changed.
And then he heard God call him to head northwest and share to share the good news.
He found himself among the Wyandotte Nation and our first Missionary Society was formed on April 5, 1819 in order to support Stewart and those who would come in this work.
For 200 years, people have set out to share the love of God with complete strangers, and God provided.
They made mistakes along the way, but God provided mercy and forgiveness and we have learned from their journeys.
They encountered opposition, racism, sexism, the death of loved ones, hunger… but they kept going because God provided them strength.

As I heard their stories this past week, it was a reminder that even in times of uncertainty and change, hardship and conflict, God is in our midst.
Even in the wilderness…. Maybe especially in the wilderness… God is providing us with the things that we need to keep going.
When we remember all of the ways that God has worked in the past, we find the ability to have faith and to trust that God will continue to be there providing for our future.
Thanks be to God. Amen.

The Wilderness: Learning to Lean on the Lord

Posted on March 17, 2019Leave a comment

Text: Exodus 15:22-27, Luke 3:21-22, 4:1-2a, 4:14-15

This year, we are taking a journey through the wilderness during the season of Lent.

Most years, we spend one Sunday, if that, focused on the time that Jesus spent in the wilderness at the beginning of his ministry.
However, the wilderness is not something to be glossed over.

So over these six weeks of Lent, we will take our time with these stories.
We will slow ourselves down and really chew on them.

Today, we focus on what the wilderness itself represents for Jesus and the Israelites.
It is the In-Between place, a liminal space, a transition between what was and what would be.

While it looks like we have a collection of random verses in our gospel text today, what we have are bookends of a transition into ministry.

Jesus was born and grew up in the home of Mary and Joseph. He was obedient to them and matured in wisdom and years, Luke tells us. But we don’t really know much else about his life as a child or a young person. Not until he suddenly shows up on the banks of the Jordan River to be baptized by John.

There, the heavens split open and the Holy Spirit descends and Jesus is named the Son of God.

But what next?
How do you go from a nobody to a viral sensation who teaches and preaches across the region as our third set of verses tell us?
How do you transition from a quiet life in Galilee to a world-transforming movement of love and grace and justice that challenges the religious and secular leadership of the world?

You pause for a minute.
You take a breath.
You figure out who you are and whose you are.

That same Spirit that descended upon him, led Jesus into the wilderness. Led him into a time of temptation and wrestling. A time to clarify his values, his power, his mission, his message.
Over the next several weeks, we will look individually at each and every one of those temptations and what they tell us about who Jesus is and how we are supposed to live.

For today, we simply want to remember that he took this time, this beat, this moment between those two realities to get ready for the future.

And when he was ready, the Spirit sent him back into the world.

When he was ready.

Scripture tells us that Jesus was in that wilderness for forty days, but the reality is, Jesus was in the wilderness for as long as it took him to get ready.

That number, forty, shows up 159 times in scripture and it is not a coincidence.

Instead, the number itself is a representation, a symbol, a clue as to the significance of the moment. It speaks to the reality that this is a time of testing that is meant to form the person or the people into a more faithful future.

The earth was flooded in the days of Noah for forty days, Jonah warned Nineveh for 40 days of its impending destruction, and Ezekiel laid on his side for 40 days to symbolize Judah’s sins – all represent a transition from our sinful past to the possibility of a new future.

Moses and Elijah, like Jesus, fasted for forty days in the wilderness – and these times were important transitions as they waited upon the Lord to give them instructions for leadership.

And then there were the Israelites.
They had been slaves in the land of Egypt.
All they knew was oppression and toil.
They didn’t know what it meant to live without Pharaoh’s rule, much less what it meant to live as the people of God in a new land.

The wilderness was not just the path they had to travel to the land of milk and honey.
It was also a time of transformation and testing where they would be strengthened and learn how to lean upon the Lord.

Exodus tells us that as soon as the Israelites were truly liberated on the other side of the Reed Sea, they celebrated their victory and began to move forward into this new land.

Together, they traveled for three days. Three days is all it took for the Israelites to journey through the wilderness without water before they started to grumble and complain and fall apart.

And God does a miracle in that place. The Lord has Moses throw a stick into the bitter, undrinkable water they had discovered, and suddenly it is sweet and refreshing.

They are learning to lean on the Lord.
They are learning to trust in God’s power.
But they are really just beginning to learn.

I look at this map and you know what really strikes me…. Where Marah, this place of bitter water is situated.

It only took them THREE days to travel this whole distance.

And it took them forty years to make the rest of their journey.

Because days were not enough time.

Years were not enough time.

It was going to take a generation of testing and transition and wilderness wandering before the people of Israel could leave behind what was and truly be ready for what was coming next.

Forty days…. Forty years… it took however long it needed to take for the people to be ready.

Right now, the wilderness is calling out to us.

Matthew, Luke and Mark all tell us that Jesus is led by the Spirit out into this liminal space, but Mark uses even stronger language. The Spirit forced him to go. He was pushed out there.

Just because you are led doesn’t mean you have to go. You chose to obey.

But to be forced… it means I don’t want to do something, and I don’t have a choice.

Did Jesus want to be in the wilderness?

Did he want to spend forty days wrestling with Satan?

I get the sense that any rational person wouldn’t choose this situation.
Jesus didn’t want to be there, but he had to do it.
He had to spend this time apart.
He had to get ready for what was to come.
Jesus had to make sure his head and heart and body were aligned before his ministry started.
It was going to be a rough journey and he was going to be working with some knuckleheads of disciples… not to mention the cross that would loom before him.

This time apart was necessary, because after the wilderness, there was a job to do.

Friends, we also have a job to do.
We are called to be disciples of Jesus Christ.
We are called to be God’s church, the Body of Christ, and to live according to his example.
We are called to make other disciples and to transform the world.

Are we ready? Have we prepared ourselves?
Or are we like those Israelites who are only a few days into a journey and already we are making excuses and want to go back to the way things were and we need to be forced to stop and take it slowly and re-orient ourselves to God.

I think some of us have to be forced into the wilderness of Lent… and that includes myself.
I’m too busy to spend any extra time in prayer and fasting and study… I’ve got a job to do, right? That’s what we tell ourselves.
But when we force ourselves to stop…
When we hand a piece of our lives over to God for a while…
Well, then suddenly we find that all those priorities re-align.
We remember it’s not about me or my desires or my needs… but about God.
And about getting ourselves ready for what God needs us to do in the world.

To be God’s people.
To repent and live differently.
To lead in a new way.
To offer ourselves for others.

This time of testing and preparation and wilderness is not about suffering for the sake of suffering. It is not in itself pleasing to God for us to be tempted and tried.

Remember, after all, that Jesus was already beloved, dearly loved, just the way he was before being sent into the wilderness.

No… the wilderness, these forty days, are only pleasing to God because they get us ready to come back OUT of the wilderness.

I am reminded of that old gospel song, “Come Out the Wilderness.”

It reminds me that we are going to come out of this time of wilderness.

Sometimes this time will make us want to weep… or pray… or shout.

But most importantly, when we come out the wilderness, when we finish this journey, when we get to the other side of this “in-between” we will do so leaning on the Lord.

So during this season…
During these forty days…
During this time in the wilderness….
What do you need to do to get yourself ready…
What do you need to do to lean on the Lord?

Go Back Home

Posted on April 1, 20181 Comment

Christ is risen!
He is risen indeed!
Christ is risen!
He is risen indeed!

When those women showed up at the tomb on Easter morning, they didn’t know they were supposed to shout for joy.
They were confused and disoriented and more than a little startled by the angel appearing before them.
Christ has been raised?
He isn’t here?
What on earth is going on?

The only miracle they had thought to pray for was that somehow they would be able to roll away the stone.
They had come to this place expecting that the stench of death would fill the tomb.
In their arms, they carried only spices and oils for anointing the body of their friend, their teacher. Patiently they had waited until the sabbath was over and the sun had peeked over the horizon.

Many of us have been in that place.
We have trudged through the valley of the shadow of death, overwhelmed by our grief, going through the motions of ritual and closure because it is the only thing we know how to do in that moment.
Except unlike us, these three women: Mary Magdalene, Mary, and Salome, had no hope left in their heart.
There was no light at the end of this tunnel.
They were witnesses to a world-transforming, miracle-working revolution of thought and mind and now that it was snuffed out before them… now that Jesus was dead, three days in the tomb… now that the disciples had scattered… it was all over.
They were alone.
The empire had won.
Or so they thought…

Until they arrived at the tomb just after sunrise, carrying objects of mourning, and discovered the stone had been rolled away.
They slowly stepped inside the cavern, unsure, unsteady, unknowing… and were startled by a man in white standing in the room.
I can imagine one of them hoisted up the jar of spices, prepared to use it as a weapon to throw so they could make a quick escape.
But the man quickly spoke: I know you are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, the One they nailed on the cross. He’s been raised up; he’s here no longer. See for yourselves – this place is empty.
The Message translation of this passage notes that they got out of there as fast as they could, their heads swimming, completely beside themselves with this good news of great joy… but before they stumbled out the door, the messenger in white had some very clear instructions for these ladies, these first messengers of the gospel, the first preachers of the resurrection.
“On your way, ladies! You have work to do! Go and tell the disciples that Jesus is going back to where this whole thing started… back to where your ministry began… Go back home… and you will find Jesus there.”

Go back home.

Sometimes, we need to go back to the beginning of our story.
We need to remember where we have come from to understand where we are supposed to go next.

This Friday, we laid to rest our friend and church member, Donna Bales. In the midst of their grief, I listened as Donna’s children and grandchildren shared stories of their loved one. They talked about going back through Donna’s things and they even went back to the stories that Donna herself had told about her life growing up… about her parents and grandparents. In the process, they tapped into the core of who she was – an incredibly strong, yet humble woman, who taught them each how to embrace their own strength in life.

Perhaps you have had a similar experience when you have lost a loved one. When you go back home and start sifting through those memories and artifacts, revisiting things you thought were behind you, you start to discover a rich heritage in your past that has shaped who you have become.

The disciples of Jesus had made a lot of mistakes along their journey. They were human, just like you and me, and they fumbled and failed like we all do. Every step of the way, Jesus was there to guide them, set them back on the path, and to help them understand God in a new way.
In the Garden of Gethsemane, the disciples either betrayed him, denied him, or ran away in fear of their own lives. Their grief and shame hung heavily upon them.
How do you even begin to hear the good news of the resurrection in that moment?
How can you begin to start anew?
You go back home.
You go back to the place where Jesus first spoke your name, first called you into ministry, first showed you that God is present in our lives.
You go back to where it all began.

The messenger in the tomb that morning tells the women, and through them the disciples, that Jesus has already made a plan to meet them back home in Galilee.

It was there that Jesus began to announce the good news of God – “Change your hearts and your lives – Here comes God’s Kingdom!”
It was there by the Sea that he discovered Simon and Andrew, James and John, casting their nets into the sea.
It was there that Jesus cast out demons, healed the sick, turned water into wine, and multiplied the loaves and the fishes.

Jesus calls them back home to the place where their story began together.
Because it is about to begin all over again.
And they are going to need to tap into those rich memories and stories of forgiveness and the memories of miracles to help guide them as they take their next steps along the journey of God.

This past week, a good friend and mentor of mine, Rev. Michael Williams, died in Nashville. That city was home for me during my seminary years and while I couldn’t go back for the funeral, I found myself reconnecting with friends via facebook as we shared memories and I was able to livestream the funeral – a powerful service of death and resurrection – from here.

I sat in my office, watching the choir process into the sanctuary at West End United Methodist Church and as friends and colleagues stood in that pulpit to speak a word of God’s love. That church was my home for four years. It was where I worshipped. It was where I began my ministry. It was the place I first stood behind a communion table to break bread and share it with my congregation. That church home and those people formed and shaped my ministry and I would not be the pastor I am today without those experiences.
It was powerful to go back home, even if only through the wonders of technology, and to be reminded of where I have come from and where I am called to go next.
Where did you first encounter Jesus in your life?
Who were the people who surrounded you at that time in your life?
Was it at summer camp? At your grandparent’s church? Was it right here in this building?
Did that place come to feel like home for you?

My friend, Michael, wrote: “the people who have formed and shaped our lives while they were among us can still live inside us and influence the way we live even after their death. In some sense, as long as we continue to tell the stories of loved ones, they remain a presence within us and among us.”

When it feels like defeat and death have won the day, we are invited to go back home.
We are invited to go back to the place where this journey started for us and start retelling the stories of our faith.
And we discover there the presence of God all over again. We encounter the risen Savior. We are filled with the power of the Holy Spirit. We are met by the Holy and Triune God who has promised to always be home for us.

In this season of Easter at Immanuel, we are going to be exploring what it means to have a place to call home in our faith lives. Our scriptures and messages will remind us that God wants to make a home among us, God-with-us, Immanuel… and that we are invited to make our home in God – to abide, to dwell in the presence of the Risen One.
Maybe today you have come home to this place, this family, this Body of Christ, and this is an opportunity to reconnect and get reenergized.
Maybe you haven’t yet found a place to call your spiritual home. If that’s the case, we invite you to join us over these next weeks and to go on this journey with us. And I pray that the welcome so many of us have discovered here might be shared with you.
But above all, wherever you call home, know that you are not alone. “In life, in death, in life beyond death, God is with us.” We are never alone. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Lessons for the Journey

Posted on March 12, 2017Leave a comment

Last winter, my immediate family planned a trip to Hawaii to escape the cold and the snow. We often like to travel all together, but because of my weekend work responsibilities, the rest of the family took off earlier, while Brandon and I stayed here in Iowa to get through church on Sunday morning and then fly out.

Our original plan had been to fly out on Sunday afternoon, but about a month before the trip, they cancelled that flight and rebooked us for first thing on Monday morning. So our alarms were set for 4am, our bags were packed and we were ready to go. And then the text message came. Our flight had been cancelled. There had been storms that weekend in Dallas, flights were backed up and ours was being bumped. We had been rebooked for Wednesday morning.

I instantly got on the phone and tried to see if there was any way we could get out of town sooner. Except the hold time with the airline was estimated to be an hour or more. Brandon and I live near the airport, so I decided to go and try to get in line and talk with an actual agent at the ticketing counter. Only, the lines there were nearly out the door. Everyone was trying to get out of town and no one was going anywhere. There were no earlier flights to be had.

We decided to make the most of the day and built a fire in the fireplace at home and tried not to grumble. The next day around noon, we got another text from the airlines. Our flight Wednesday morning out of Des Moines had been cancelled, too.

I think I spent about three hours on the phone with the airlines and the soonest they could rebook our tickets was on January 1^st. It would be another two days before it would be possible to get out of Des Moines due to the back up all throughout the system. I cried. The good lady from the airlines tried her best to help make something work, but it was a mess.

I finally asked if the flight from Dallas to Hawaii was still taking off the next morning. It had been only the Des Moines leg of the trip that had been cancelled. And sure enough, it was still going to be leaving at 9 am Wednesday morning. Brandon and I looked at each other, and decided to drive to Dallas.

We picked up the rental car around 4pm, left Des Moines around 5, and drove through the night. When we arrived, exhausted, around 4am, we found a quiet corner in the airport to take a short nap, made our flight, and made it to Hawaii to spend the rest of the trip with our family… only three days late.

In our scripture this morning, the Israelites are on a journey as well. While Brandon and I were trying to escape the cold of winter for a warm, sunny beach, the Israelites had escaped slavery in Egypt and now they were headed for the Promised Land. God was leading them to the land flowing with milk and honey. Only, they didn’t quite know how to get there and they trusted God to lead them.

This was supposed to be a fairly simple trip, and yet at the outset, God planned to lead them the long way round. The pillar of smoke and fire was taking them on a journey that would avoid most of the difficulties they might encounter along the way. But no road is easy and the setbacks they experienced were far greater than a few cancelled flights. If you continue reading through the rest of Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy, the Israelites experienced loss, frustration, bickering, and ended up wandering for forty years in the wilderness. There were times in the journey when the destination seemed so far away that they wished they were back in Egypt. And despite the daily guidance and food provided from above, there were even times they forgot God was with them. Ultimately however, just like we finally touched down on the rainbow isle and got to spend our vacation with my parents, siblings, and three amazing niblings, the Israelites finally made it to Canaan.

While we might not be on a physical journey, the people of the United Methodist Church and the people of Immanuel are on a journey, too. John Wesley often talked about how we are going on to perfection and I think part of that means that we as the church should always be working towards the Kingdom of God and growing not only in our personal faith, but we should be transforming the world around us to look more like the “Promised Land” every single day. As a church, we need a compelling vision to hold in front of us, a picture of the destination we are longing for, so that we can actively work to bring that reality into being.

But like the Israelites, our journey has been and will be marked by setbacks. Most journeys are. We, too, have experienced loss and decline. In fact, I bet some of you in this room can remember when this sanctuary was built in order to accommodate when we had over 500 in worship every single Sunday. And, there are times of disagreement and disunity. We won’t always be able to find the best worship times for every person and we won’t all agree on what a faithful Christian response is to some of the toughest conversations of our day.

Last week in fact, an email came out from a new group that has formed within the UMC called the Wesleyan Covenant Association. The email contained a video that highlights the three central beliefs of the organization. That God is good, the Bible is true, and that Promises should be kept. And yet, how those three very simple statements were defined is not something that all United Methodists agree upon. So I became part of a group of young clergywomen that created a statement in response, trying to expand and enlarge the conversation.

When Bishop Bickerton talks about this journey of faith we are on, he knows that it will not be easy. But he offers a couple of simple lessons that might help us arrive together at our final destination. As I have thought about the journey of the Israelites, my own adventures in travel, and the journey we are currently on as a church, I find them helpful.

The first lesson I want to highlight is what my colleagues and I were attempting to do last week as we drafted a response to others in the church. And that is the see yourselves and others as a work in progress. I think this faith that we share is not simple, but it is complex and messy and real. We are always learning and growing and going on to perfection. Or as Paul put it, “Now we see a reflection in a mirror; then we will see face-to-face. Now I know partially, but then I will know completely in the same way I have been completely known.” (1 Cor. 13: 12). And so that means we should constantly be in dialogue with one another. We need to admit our shortcomings and leave ourselves open to the possibility that we might be wrong. We do not need to have it all together or have all the answers… we are still on a journey!

The second lesson relates to that idea. In the famous words of Vanilla Ice, we need to stop, collaborate and listen. It is often the people we disagree with the most who can help us to get farther on our journey. We need to collaborate across generations, with our older folks helping out our young parents and our younger folks providing support and care for their elder counterparts. In his book, Bishop Bickerton shares a story from Zimbabwe and Bishop Nhiwatiwa. In the Shona language, the word used for the spirit of collaboration is chabadza . “If you approach a person working in a field, you do not say, “May I plow your field for you?” Instead you say, “May I help you plow your field?” Chabadza represents a willingness to enter into relationship with someone else on the journey.” (p. 36) And it is a willingness to let to, let others help, and to let it be done another way. This is the spirit that we embody here at Immanuel whenever we put the needs of another person above our own and let go of our way in order to let God move us in a new way.

The final lesson is one that I needed to remember many times on our long journey to Hawaii. You need to lighten up, loosen up, and have a little fun. The journey we are on is difficult, and if we don’t open ourselves up to find the joy in the midst of the journey it will feel like its longer than it actually is. We need to enjoy the ride, remember that we are loved by God, let the Holy Spirit encourage us every step of the way. Here at Immanuel, there are so many opportunities to have a little fun as we grow in this journey of discipleship. You can sing and dance with the kids in Children’s Church. You can laugh together over coffee in Faith Hall. You can step out of your comfort zone and make a new friend. You can stand up and let God move you when the music starts playing. You can roll with punches and smile more and see where the Spirit will move.

Above all, no matter where we are on this journey, God is with us, pushing us, pulling us, prodding us, and never letting us go. Like the cloud of pillar and fire never left the side of the Israelites, the presence of God is in this place and will continue to guide us every step of the way. Amen.

Untitled

Posted on September 4, 2016Leave a comment

In today’s parable, Jesus is in the middle of teaching his disciples one last time. He is only days away from his crucifixion in Jerusalem, days away from leaving them, days away from his death. Jesus wants to make sure they are prepared for life after he is gone.

He is asking these people to live out their discipleship – to follow him, to become like him, to take care of each other and to carry on his ministry in the world

Much like the master in this parable who is going on a long trip, Jesus is trying to put his affairs in order so that his ministry is taken care of while he is gone.

The master, like Jesus, is entrusting an extravagant gift in the hands of his servants.

One single talent was a gigantic weight of money. It equaled 6,000 denarii. One denarii was roughly equal to a day’s wages… so if you do the math, each one of these talents was about twenty YEARS worth of pay.

In today’s terms a talent might be thought of as nearly a million dollars.

Now… this is the kind of money that most people never saw. Especially not at once.

But the Lord and master in this story has eight times this much to divvy up among his servants. One hundred and sixty years’ worth of pay… and he is leaving it in their hands.

This is a lifetime’s worth of money. It is costly. And being given all at once, you wonder what the Lord and master could possibly have left. This could very well be everything that he has.

And we know that in reality, the gift of Jesus’s life, death, and resurrection was costly.

And this talent, this incredible gift, is placed into your hands.

The gift of discipleship… the gift of a lifetime of following Jesus has been given to you…

What are YOU going to do with it?

One of the fascinating features of this story is that not everyone is given the same amount of talents. The master in this story looks over the skills and abilities of those who are standing in front of them and recognizes they are not the same.

As William Herzog notes, the word used here for ability could also be translated as power. They are given these gifts because of their power, their position, because of what they have already demonstrated they could handle.

In other words, this is not a test.

No master would be foolish enough to use this much money as an experiment.

No, this ruler knows the servants, honestly assesses them, and puts in their hands exactly what they can realistically handle.

One of these servants receives a single talent. Another two. Another five whole talents.

What we discover in this parable is that it is not important what your power or abilities or talents are today. It doesn’t matter how much you are given. It is what you decide to do with your discipleship that really counts.

This past spring, many of you helped our church to honestly assess our ministry and our life together through a really long survey: the Congregational Assessment Tool.

We have learned a lot of things through this tool and the leadership of our church is starting to wrestle with how to respond to various pieces.

In worship over the next couple of months, we are going to be exploring a few areas that reflect our discipleship as a church.

Now, in these scores, we were compared to 500 other churches our size around the entire country. So these scores are not the percentage of you that said these things… but how our church as a whole compares with others

I work to connect my faith to all other aspects of my life (32%)
I experience the presence of God in my life (36%)
We do a good job supporting people in ministry by reminding them they make a difference (48%)
We prepare our members for ministry by helping them discern gifts (51%)
We understanding that we have a spiritual responsibility for life-long learning and formation (47%)
We welcome and are enriched by persons from many different walks of life (39%)

If I were to name a common thread that I see in these items, it would be that we as a church have abundant, extravagant gifts in our midst… and we don’t know what to do with them.

These results tell me that when it comes to living out our faith, when it comes to our discipleship, we act a whole lot like the third servant in our scripture today…. Both personally, and as a church.

And I think there are two factors at play here.

1) As a church, we have not taken the time and energy, like the master of the story did, to help one another figure out what our abilities and position and gifts really are. You need to know where you are starting in order to know what you have to work with.

2) Even if we DO know what our abilities, skills, and gifts are… even if we have this talent in our hands… we aren’t sure what we are supposed to do with it. We don’t have a clear sense of how to help it to grow

Here at Immanuel, we define discipleship with a phrase we use every single week: In Christ, live a life of love, service, and prayer.

It’s a great, easy to remember phrase… but…

What do we mean by love? How are we supposed to pray? Who are we serving?

How do I know if I’m doing it?

And above all… How can I do it better and more fully next week that I did last week.

That’s what today’s parable is all about, after all… taking what you have and helping it to grow.

So, starting today, and over the next eight weeks, we are going to break down that vision of discipleship at Immanuel into bite sized pieces.

We are going to explore what this looks like in worship and hospitality, service and generosity, formation and practice.

We’ll start next week with this whole pie and what each area of discipleship looks like at Immanuel, then over next six weeks, we’ll explore how we can take the talent placed in our hands and help it grow.

Figuring out where you start is the key to taking the next step.

You may have noticed a bulletin board in the foyer that includes four words:

Exploring.

Beginning.

Growing.

Maturing.

These words are going to help us to claim where we are in this journey of discipleship.

Are you someone who is brand new to this and has no idea what the possibilities are?

Are you someone who is just beginning your faith journey and you are starting to try some things out?

Are you someone who has been working on your discipleship for a while, but you still know you have room to grow?

Are you someone who understands what discipleship is all about and you have been there, done that, bought the t-shirt, and now you aren’t sure what comes next?

The truth is, it doesn’t matter where you start on this journey today.

It doesn’t matter if you are the servant in our story who was given one talent or five talents… or the servant that didn’t even get talked about who wasn’t entrusted with a talent at all.

What matters is what you do with what you have.

The truth of this parable is that any one of these servants could have been the ones who chose to let fear or ignorance or laziness creep in. It could have just as easily have been the one who had been given the most who chose to do nothing with his gift.

Here at Immanuel, we are going to try to help one another not only figure out what we have, but what we can do with it.

We are going to help each other take the next step in our discipleship.

You don’t have to start with a lot in order to be faithful. You just have to choose to do something with it. Together… we’ll figure out how.

Amen.

Exercise and Practice

Posted on September 29, 2014Leave a comment

This thought was waiting for me in my email inbox this morning, as I finished day one of working out again:

Here is a traveler. He has launched out on a long journey. He comes to the first inn, and there he remains forever. His reason? He has been told that many travelers have come this way and have stayed at this very inn; even the master of the house once dwelt here…. Oh soul! All that is wished for you is that you press toward the end…. Only remember this: Do not stop at the first stage.

Jeanne Guyon
Source: Experiencing the Depths of Jesus Christ

So many times, I have started on this journey and I stop far beyond the journeys end. I give up when weather, a cold, and busyness get in my way. I settle for where I am rather than pressing on.

I think when it comes to fitness and weightloss there is a fine line between loving who you are, as you are, and pushing yourself to take another step. I can accept myself and love myself right now. I just bought a pair of jeans that fit perfectly. I can embrace my curves and size. At the same time, I climbed a hill this weekend and found myself out of breath. I know that while this me is okay, that I can also do better. I need to push myself to the next place without hating myself in the process.

I wonder if we treat our spiritual lives the same way? Where we are in our life of prayer or service or the eay we love others… it is good and fine and acceptable. And we can stay here for as long as we want. Until one day we notice that we cant find the words to pray or a difficult situation challenges our ability to love someone. And then we realize that while we might be okay with where we are, that doesn’t mean we can’t grow more healthy and push farther in our spiritual lives. We discover that climb that challenges us and we find the incentive to push on and grow as a disciple of God.

This morning, I started my journey with some weight lifting and tomorrow I will do some cardio. You can find a thousand ways to get physically healthy.

In our spiritual lives, there are many exercises we can try, too:
A new form of prayer, journaling, reading the scripture, serving once a week, worshipping intentionally with others, finding a spiritual buddy to talk with.
All of these flex our soul and strengthen us for what comes next. They challenge us to keep moving forward on the journey. One step at a time.