justice – Salvaged Faith

The Lord’s Prayer: Our Daily Bread

Posted on March 20, 2022Leave a comment

During this season of Lent, we are taking time to dive deep and explore together the prayer that Jesus taught us.

Already, we have thought about what it means to be in conversation and relationship with our Holy Parent.

We spent last week thinking about what God desires and intends for our lives – for all of creation to thrive under God’s reign.

And one of the threads that is woven throughout this entire prayer is that in all of these petitions, our attention is shifted.

We are invited to think bigger… to focus on “Thee and Thine” not “me and mine.”

But that shift is also away from a kind of individualistic “me, myself, and I” to the communal.

Every part of this prayer uses plural pronouns.

We are not just praying for what we want, but are called to be aware of the needs and hopes and yearning of others.

And that is one of the reasons I am so excited that we are joining in this study together.

Some of you have been participating in the small groups in our congregations.

But what you maybe haven’t realized is that other churches in our area are learning and exploring and praying with us.

For these next three weeks, Immanuel, Windsor, and Valley United Methodist Churches are making that connection more explicit as we share our pulpits with one another.

It is my honor to get to speak with you all today and I’m looking forward to how Pastor Lee and Pastor LaTonya will bless us all in the coming weeks.

This morning, we have the opportunity to focus on the third phrase in the Lord’s Prayer:
“Give us this day our daily bread.”

There they are again… those plural pronouns.

The Lord’s Prayer centers us in the body of Christ and our needs and responsibilities towards one another.

After all, food is all about community.

One of the things I have missed the most as a United Methodist over these last two years of Covid-tide is the potluck.

You know – where everyone brings something to the table.

Crocks of hamballs, jello salad, far more deserts than you could possibly imagine…

But even if it isn’t a large communal gathering, in our prayers and blessings for meals, we often invoke the truth that most food before us is only possible because of our shared life.

From the hands that planted crops and cared for animals…

To those who have harvested and butchered and packaged…

To the workers who brought our food to market and the people who work to sell them.

In the modern world, every time we eat, we do so thanks to others.

As the authors of Becoming Jesus’ Prayer write: “bread is a cooperative endeavor.” (p. 53)

We became far more aware of this reality early in the pandemic as so many of these employees all along the food distribution chain were labeled “essential workers.”

I find that particular language intriguing as we think about what it means to ask God for our daily bread.

For those of you who are reading along with us in the study book, Adam Hamilton points out that our English translation doesn’t quite capture the fullness of the original languages.

There is a word used here, “epiousian” which we translate in English as “daily.”

But it is an unknown word in the Greek language.

Breaking it apart, scholars guess that it could mean that which is “necessary” or “that which is needed for us to be”; something that is “sufficient” or even “essential.”

Give us today the food that is essential for life.

Our gospel text this morning comes shortly after the miraculous feeding of 5,000 people.

The disciples are quick to connect this amazing experience with how God provided for their ancestors in the wilderness.

They remembered how the Hebrew people were starving in the desert, having just left the land of bondage, but every day… well, every day but the Sabbath… manna came down from heaven and quails appeared every evening.

Every day, there was enough to fill their bellies and satisfy their hunger.

Every day, their essential needs were met.

But as Jesus responds to this eager group of followers, he tells them that God is not just focused on the kind of bread that fills our bellies.

The gift of bread from God, or the bread from heaven, gives life to the world.

And in doing so, he calls them… and us… to think beyond our individual physical need for food today to what is essential for all people to experience abundant life.

All across the world, there are children of God who do not know if they will eat today.

There are hospitals in war-torn areas running out of medicine and supplies.

We have elderly neighbors choosing between paying for groceries or their medications.

Families are fleeing violence with only what they can carry and are desperate for clothing and shelter.

For them, this prayer is a petition spoken out of desperation and a need for survival.

I confess that every single time I have prayed the words “Give us this day our daily bread,” there has been food in my cupboard and a safe, warm place to sleep.

Growing up, we didn’t always have a lot of resources, but we always had the essentials.

Just a few days ago, I threw out a loaf of bread that had grown moldy.

The truth is, compared to so many people in the world, I have more than I need.

And maybe that has been your reality as well.

And yet, Jesus calls us to pray these words.

And in doing so, they are transformed into a call to action.

I might have enough, but does my neighbor?

How am I called to put this prayer into action?

As part of the body of Christ, how can my hands and feet become the answer to the prayers of my neighbors?

This week, the DMARC offices are closed as they transition to larger facilities here in Des Moines.

This vital partnership between so many area churches, organizations, and individuals, is one way that we make sure that our neighbors are fed.

And more than ever, this partnership and effort is vital.

Food insecurity has continued to grow among our neighbors, rising 80% over six years (https://www.dmarcunited.org/capital-campaign/).

The new facility will triple the available warehouse space, completely change cold storage capacity, and will also house a permanent on-site pantry.

It is just one way that as a community we are putting prayer into action and making what is essential available to our hungry neighbors.

But this prayer calls us to do more than just share our leftovers or extra canned peas with those who lack food.

We are called to adopt this mindset for all that is essential to life.

St. Basil the Great famously wrote:

“The bread that you store up belongs to the hungry; the cloak that lies in your chest belongs to the naked; and the gold that you have hidden in the ground belongs to the poor.” (https://www.inspirationalstories.com/quotes/saint-basil-the-bread-that-you-store-up-belongs/)

I am reminded that when God provided manna to the Hebrew people in the wilderness, each day they had enough.

Anything that they tried to save and hoard and store up would rot away.

Maybe part of what it means to pray and work for our neighbors to have what is essential for their lives is to also reflect upon the excess of our own consumption.

It isn’t just the bread that molds in our cupboards.

It is also the dress that is too small hanging in my closet that could benefit a woman newly released from prison.

The bed taking up space in your storage unit that could benefit a family from Afghanistan that has found refuge in our community.

If you are anything like me, your heart has been broken apart over and over again by the stories coming out of Ukraine.

But one in particular that I think exemplifies the spirit of this particular prayer is from a train station in Poland.

Polish mothers began dropping off their old strollers for Ukrainian mothers arriving with nothing but the clothes on your back.

What is essential for life?

What do our neighbors need to thrive?

Every time we say this prayer, we are making a commitment to center our lives around what God intends for all of creation and that means joining Jesus in reaching out to people in need.

Whether it is food, or clothing, or shelter, or the money you have saved up, it all has the capacity to be a blessing to others.

We are praying for the strength to work and give and advocate so that others might have enough.

We are paying for the courage to see other people on the fringes of our community as children of God, people of worth and dignity who deserve food and shelter and health care and relationships.

We are praying for justice for our neighbors.

Our scriptures are full of passages that speak of God’s justice in relation to caring for the orphans and the widows, in concern for the strangers or sojourners, the prisoners, the sick, the slaves.

Because of circumstances beyond their control, each of these groups are kept from full participation in the community and find themselves without access to things that are essential for life.

As St. Basil would say, whenever we keep people from what is rightfully theirs – according to the principle of need – we are committing injustice.

But over and over, scripture tells us that God hears and God responds and God calls us to act as the people of God.

According to the Holman Bible Dictionary – “When people had become poor and weak with respect to the rest of the community, they were to be strengthened so that they could continue to be effective members of the community.”

God’s justice is about meeting the needs of our neighbors and restoring people to community.

It is our task and calling as the body of Christ to care for the poor and the marginalized.

To look out for the least among our siblings.

To band together, to hold one another up, to reach out to those on the fringes and offer each other life and life abundant through the power and grace of Jesus Christ.

We do so through prayer, but we also do so through what we share.

Out of our abundance of food and clothing, time and money, even hope and strength, we can reach out to impact the lives of our neighbors so that every single one of us has what is essential for life.

May it be so.

Amen.

No Christmas without Justice and Hope

Posted on November 29, 2020Leave a comment

Text: Genesis 38: 1-30

In Diana Butler Bass’s book, Grounded, she reminds us that our roots are far deeper than our memories.
We are shaped and influenced by generations that have come and gone, whether or not we remember their stories.

In one of my pastoral care classes in seminary we studied family systems and how the patterns and stories of our ancestors influence us today.
We were asked to map out our family tree and to notice how our actions are influenced by the stories we find.
In fact, I brought my own family system with me today… five generations worth of people who lived and loved and died.
I have discovered through this process the strength of matriarchs, the importance we place on loyalty and fidelity, a deep sense of togetherness, but also why I carry such heavy expectations for myself.

However, the story of my identity is not limited to this family tree.
As a person of faith, my ancestral line and spiritual heritage is found all throughout the pages of scripture.
And so during this season of Advent, as we prepare for Christ to make a home in our lives once again, I find myself remembering his own family tree.
Matthew included in his genealogy of Jesus familiar names like Abraham and Judah and David. But he also breaks with custom to specifically name four women: Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba.
Each week during Advent, we will be exploring their stories to discover how they shape our lives.
How do they ground our sense of purpose and identity?
How do they help us navigate the trials and tribulations of our lives?
How might we call upon these ancestors and their faith in God to help us persevere in our own journey?

Too often, we have neglected their stories and their voices, but this Advent, we will remember each one.
After all, there would be no Christmas without them.
So let’s start where Matthew does:
Abraham was the father of Isaac.
Isaac was the father of Jacob.
Jacob was the father of Judah and his brothers.
Judah was the father of Perez and Zerah, whose mother was Tamar.

Her story begins in Genesis, chapter 38:
6 Judah married his oldest son Er to a woman named Tamar.
If we situate her story in its context, there are some interesting family dynamics to explore.
First of all, there is a pattern in this family of God’s promises being passed down not through the eldest son, but through the favored one.
Trickery and deception is part of this family’s DNA. Abraham lied about Sarah being his wife. Jacob stole the blessing from Esau. In the chapter right before we meet Tamar, Jacob’s sons turn on their sibling Joseph, their father’s favorite.
While some wanted to kill him, Judah, the fourth born, proposed they sell him into slavery but they lie and tell their father Joseph is dead.
As this chapter begins, Judah, like ancestors before him, moves off on his own into Canaanite territory, marries, and has three sons. His seeks to establish his own legacy.
His eldest, Er, marries Tamar, but things are not happily ever after.
7 But the Lord considered Judah’s oldest son Er immoral, and the Lord put him to death.
Tamar is left vulnerable.
She has no children.
She is no longer a virgin.
Her only hope for security comes through a custom of the day called levirate marriage.

It provided a way to care for a widow and continue the family line by requiring the brother of the deceased to step in and produce a son.
But Er’s brother, Onan, was just as bad as his brother.
He refused to plant his seed and complete the task because it would diminish his own inheritance and legacy. Yet, he continued to use Tamar as he pleased.
As Tom Fuerst notes, “Onan makes an active choice to deny Tamar justice and leave her in a position of vulnerability, where her safety, identity, and future remain questionable.” (Underdogs and Outsiders, p. 20)
So, God strikes Onan dead, too.

Under the law, Judah had two options.
He could continue to welcome her in his home, betrothed to his youngest, who was still a child.
Or he could release with an unsandaling ceremony, allowing her the freedom to marry again (Deuteronomy 25:7-10).
He does neither.
He sends her away to live as a widow in her father’s home.
Helen Pearson notes in her book Mother Roots that “as long as Judah had a son, he had no right to turn her away and give her back to her father, an act of total rejection on Judah’s part and an even greater humiliation for Tamar.” (p.56)
She was trapped by an unjust application of the law.
All she could do was wait and hope.
Wait for a child to grow up.
Hope that Judah and Shelah would fulfill their promises.
And so, she waited and hope and prayed for justice.

Years passed.
Shelah became a man, but Judah failed to act.
Rather than sit back and wait and continue to be unjustly treated, Tamar made a decision.
She cast off her widows robes, put on the veil of a virgin, and went to confront him.
Maybe the confrontation itself would remind Judah of what was right and he would take her home to his son, Shelah.
Maybe she was going to press for her release and freedom by spitting in his face and taking off his sandal, as the law allowed.
Either way, there was hope and possibility for justice to be done and for her to be restored.

But Judah doesn’t recognize her.
More than that, he thinks she is a prostitute.
And he is lonely.
He’s far from home, his wife is now dead, no one will know…
And so he propositions her.

I think Tamar’s game plan changes in this moment.
A new possibility for fulfilling the law and bringing about justice comes into being.
As Helen Pearson writes, “With sacred intent Tamar acted to preserve the name and inheritance of her dead husbands, Judah’s sons. Trusting her life to the Lord of the Hebrews, Tamar believed that justice and redemption would come to her.” (p. 60)
She makes a deal with him.
And the payment for her services is secured with a deposit: Judah’s seal, cord, and staff.
They were markers of his identity, “symbols of his authority” (Mother Roots, p. 59), and would create a kind of security for Tamar if in fact this plan works as intended.
It does. Tamar conceives.

Word gets back to Judah that his widowed daughter-in-law is pregnant, and NOW he decides to uphold the law.
The law which required the death penalty for someone having sex outside of marriage.
Conveniently ignoring his own transgressions, he was prepared to condemn her.
But then Tamar produces his seal, his cord, and his staff.
26 Judah recognized them and said, “She’s more righteous than I am, because I didn’t allow her to marry my son Shelah.” Judah never knew her intimately again.
The man who was so quick to judge and condemn is now convicted by her righteousness.
When Tamar gives birth, Judah claims the twin sons as his very own.
A future is secured… not only for Tamar, but for the entire family of Judah.
More than that…
Tamar’s actions are instrumental to God’s plans for the birth of a Savior.

On this first Sunday of Advent, we often focus on hope.
But I am reminded that there can be no hope without the promise of justice.
You see, hope is the force that allows us to keep pursuing what is right in the face of everything that is not.
It is holding on to the possibility that things can and will be different.
We hope because we are unwilling to accept things as they are.
We hope because we believe that there is a future in which dignity and righteousness will prevail.

In the story of Tamar, we discover a situation in which the law designed to provide security and protection was being thwarted.
Judah and Onan and Shelah abandoned the law for their own benefit.
And by refusing to live according to the law, the person it was designed to protect became a victim.
She was forgotten.
Overlooked.
Isolated.
Alone.
Yet she clung to hope.
She remembered God’s promises and God’s laws and worked to bring about God’s justice.
As my colleague, Rev. Elizabeth Grasham writes, “Tamar shines a light into unjust, corrupt, and banal violations of the law and how they hurt women like her and she uses every resource at her disposal to get what she deserves.”

Her legacy became a part of the ministry of our Savior, Jesus Christ.
He called out hypocrisy in the leaders of his time, who used or ignored the law in order to benefit themselves and oppress others.
I think of the story of the woman caught in adultery we find in John 8:1-11.
When she is brought to Jesus by the religious leaders, they wanted to stone her… following the same law that would have condemned Tamar.
But where was the man who had also been involved?
Surely if she had been caught in the act, he had been present as well.
Was this really about the woman, or were they simply using her to make a point and advance their own agendas?
Jesus refuses to play their games and instead confronts their own sinful and guilty hearts.
God’s justice, after all, is not just about getting what we deserve when we have done something wrong.
It is about seeking to restore relationships, repair harm, and rejoice in the dignity of all people.

As we prepare our own hearts and lives for the birth of Christ this year, the story of Tamar invites us to seek justice and to persevere in hope.
Perhaps we have been like Judah: quick to act in our own self-interest without examining how our actions have harmed others.
Advent is a time for us to confess and repent and make things right.
Perhaps we have been like Tamar: forgotten or trapped by situations out of our control.
Advent is a time for us to cling with hope to the promise that God does not forget the downtrodden, but brings about justice for the oppressed.
Perhaps we are simply bystanders in this story, and I am challenged by their own inaction and refusal to name the harm.
Advent is a time for us to use our own voices and bodies to act and bring about the future that we long for, not only for ourselves, but for all of God’s people.
Advent is a time for light to shine on all places of injustice, for truth to be revealed, and hope-filled actions that prepare the way for the child of Mary.
May it be so.

The Fragility of our Connection

Posted on June 7, 2020Leave a comment

Text: Philippians 2:1-8

Arches National Park is perhaps one of the most iconic and picturesque of the spots we will visit.
Three hundred million years ago, give or take, this land lay beneath an ocean. With the ebb and flow of the waters, salt deposits built up hundreds of feet thick.
Eventually, pressure turned some spots turned into sandstone. But as water eroded away the salt but not the harder rock, sandstone was left hanging over these empty gaps, leaving nearly 2,000 arches (America’s Holy Ground, page 31).

But as we mentioned as we began today, these arches are not sturdy or solid. Landscape Arch has seen a number of collapses and Wall Rock Arch fell apart one night in a huge pile of boulders in 2008.
They were formed under pressure and eventually pressure from the elements and human interaction will cause these connections to crumble.

When we planned this series, I wanted to focus on the strength of our connections, but I must confess that yesterday as I was thinking about this sermon I spent most of my day weeping.
Because the connections between us in this nation have never felt more fragile.
Because the tension in the air is palpable.
Because every post or story feels like to fans the flames of division.
And while I try to do better, and be better, I’m guilty of it, too, as I think about conversations I’ve had this week.
I so desperately want to be able to find words to make things okay, to soothe the wounds of our relationships, to seek peace, and there isn’t anything I can say.
I can’t make it better today for my neighbors who are black, indigenous, or people of color.
I can’t make it better today for my neighbors who are law enforcement.
There is too much that is broken and has already crumbled.
We can’t look away and pretend we didn’t see.
There is too much work that has to be done to acknowledge the pain and to hold one another accountable before we can even begin to live in peace.

This Sunday is Peace with Justice Sunday in the United Methodist Church.
Our Social Principles remind us that, “As disciples of Christ, we are called to love our enemies, seek justice, and serve as reconcilers of conflict. “ ¶165.C
As I have heard chanted at various rallies… not just this past week after the killing of George Floyd, but anywhere faithful people show up to seek change:
“No Justice. No Peace.”
As we state for this day, “…political and social turmoil can be caused by a number of issues including economic disparity, environmental degradation, gender inequality, racism and xenophobia, and illness and disease. If we want peace, we must be committed to disrupting these conditions and systems that perpetuate injustice.” (https://www.umcjustice.org/what-we-care-about/peace-with-justice)

Next week, our confirmands will stand up and claim their baptismal vows.
Not only will they take responsibility for turning away from their own sin and failings…
They will claim the freedom and power God gives them to resist evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves.
We wrestled together with what that means, and all of their questions really got me thinking about what it looks like for me to claim that freedom and power, too.

What does it look like for us to resist those systems of injustice?
How do we begin?
How do we create the conditions for peace?
How do we seek justice?
How do we strengthen our fragile human connections?

There isn’t anything I can say in one sermon that can undo or fix systemic racism.
But we can talk about what each of us can do right now in our own personal relationships.

I found myself turning to Paul’s letter to the Philippians.
The church was experiencing a quarrel between two of their members – Euodia and Syntyche. We don’t know the details, but it had the potential to tear the church apart.
And so Paul writes to them these words… this is the Message translation:

“If you’ve gotten anything at all out of following Christ,
if his love has made any difference in your life,
if being in a community of the Spirit means anything to you,
if you have a heart,
if you care –
then do me a favor:
Agree with each other, love each other, be deep-spirited friends.
Don’t push your way to the front;
don’t sweet-talk your way to the top.
Put yourself aside, and help others get ahead.
Don’t be obsessed with getting your own advantage.
Forget yourselves long enough to lend a helping hand.
Think of yourselves the way Christ Jesus thought of himself…
he set aside the privileges of deity and took on the status of a slave…” (Philippians 2:1-7)

When there is conflict and division in the world, the only way we can overcome it, Paul writes, is by putting ourselves to the side.
We have to start focusing on what is good for the other person.
We have to humble ourselves.
We have to stop and pause and focus on the love we have for Christ and other human beings FIRST.
That is the agreement that Paul is talking about… that we would agree in Christ. That we would agree to be like Christ. That we would agree to look upon one another with love.

I find it interesting in the message translation that Eugene Peterson uses the word “privilege” to describe how Christ emptied himself of his status as equal with God.
The Greek word Paul uses here, rooted in kenosis, describes what it means to divest yourself of what rightly belongs to you.
The only way that God in Christ Jesus could reconcile with us…
The only way that God in Christ Jesus could repair the broken connection with humanity…
The only way…
Was for Jesus to set aside his privilege and power and status and to become one of us.
And then, to set aside his life and to die for us.

Paul sees the division in that community, sees the conflict between these two women, and he asks them to be like Christ.
The only way we can have reconciliation and peace is if we let go of trying to be right.
We have to stop focusing on what is best for ourselves and start asking what is right for others.
I think it is important to note here that not all power and privilege is equal.
Jesus took on the status of a slave… and for slaves, for the oppressed, for those suffering injustice… there is no lower for them to go. There is no power to relinquish.
So part of adopting the mind of Christ is becoming aware of the systems in our society that have created differences in the way people are treated and the advantages they have.
We have to look at the ways inequalities are slowly but surely eroding the connections that we have built with one another.
How are our health systems, education systems, economic systems creating the conditions for life for our neighbors?
Where we benefit unequally from those systems, we are not called to dig in deeper, but to work to help others get ahead.

When Paul asks us to put on the mind of Christ, he is asking all of us to equate ourselves, to humble ourselves, to make ourselves lowly.
To walk in the shoes of those who have nothing left to lose.
To listen.
To learn.
When we live this way… putting others first, setting ourselves to the side… it has a transformative impact on the rest of the world.
As Paul goes on to write in the next verses, again this is the Message translation:

“Go out into the world uncorrupted, a breath of fresh air in this squalid and polluted society. Provide people with a glimpse of good living and of the living God. Carry the light-giving Message into the night…” (2:14-16)

We are to carry this mind of Christ with us everywhere we go.
In the letters we write to legislators.
In the attitude we strike towards those who disagree with us.
At the ballot box.
In the places we chose to shop.
With our families.
In the ways we stand up for those who are crying out for justice.

Think of yourself as Christ thought about himself.
And think of others the way Christ thought of them.
If we can start there, we have taken one step towards peace and justice.
And every step strengthens our connection.
May it be so. Amen.

Sing! Play! Summer! – Chainbreaker

Posted on June 16, 2019Leave a comment

Text: Isaiah 58:6-9, Psalm 107:10-16

For the first 20 or so years of my life, I understood salvation as one concrete idea: that Jesus died for my sin on the cross.
Substitutionary Atonement is what we call it. Jesus took our place. He was our substitute and paid the price for our sins so we could go to heaven.
But before too long, I discovered that I was terribly mistaken.
Not about Jesus dying for our sins.
But about thinking that was all salvation meant.

In its fullest sense, “Salvation is ‘God’s deliverance of those in a situation of need… resulting in their restoration to wholeness.’ It is restoration because salvation does not offer something new; it is God’s original intent for creation.” (Introduction, The Lord is Our Salvation)
The best word I can find to describe that original intent, the life that God intends for each of us is the word shalom.
It means completeness, wholeness, well-being.
And God’s work of salvation in Jesus Christ rescues us from whatever hell we might experience in our lives that has destroyed shalom, so we might experience life and life abundant once again.

Christ dying and paying the price for our sins is one piece of that work of salvation. But it isn’t the only one.
In fact, in the Western world, there are three major understandings of what the cross means, all different ways of talking about how Jesus saves us.
These are called atonement theories.
They describe how we become at-one again with God… how we are brought back into shalom… how we experience wholeness once again.
The first is the one most of us grew up being familiar with – a Forensic understanding of salvation. These theories say we are like a defendant on trial and have been found guilty of breaking our covenant with God. So, a penalty must be paid. Jesus knows we are guilty and out of love, pays the price for us. He satisfies the debt we owe.
The second is called Moral Example. This grouping of theories claims that the cross is the natural outcome of the life of Jesus, who spoke truth to power and dared to love those who society rejected. And in his life and death, Christ shows us how we should live, too.
The third of the major groupings is called “Christus Victor” – Christ as the Victor! This theory talks about an eternal battle between the forces of this world… good and evil, life and death, abundance and scarcity. We find ourselves trapped and imprisoned by sin and destruction, but Christ comes to set us free and restore us to wholeness.

In Psalm 107, this story of God’s redeeming love is told.
Some wandered away and found themselves lost and starving, but God rescued them from their trouble and led them back home.
Some were foolish and stumbled down a destructive path, but God rescued them from death itself and healed them.
Some set out to make their own way and their own pride became their cage, but God rescued them and brought them out of their distress to safety.
And some became prisoners, sitting in darkness, suffering in iron chains because they rebelled against God’s commands. But God rescued them and broke away their chains.

We were lost, but now are found.
We were trapped by addiction, but now we are free.
We were dragged down by our addiction, but we have been lifted up.
We were drowning in our fears, but we have been brought back to the shoreline.
We needed freedom and saving, but we’ve got a prison-shaking Savior.

For a couple of years now, we have been singing, Chainbreaker, in our contemporary worship service. Written by Zach Williams, it captures those redemptive stories of Psalm 107 and invites each of us to tell the story of how God has invited us into a better life.
Williams had been doing prison ministry through his church and wanted to speak to what God had been doing through the lives of the people he worked with… but his own life as well.
He had found himself for years walking a dead-end road and kept hearing a voice that said he wasn’t going to make it. That he was a failure. That he wasn’t good enough.
And to be honest, that is all of us. We are not good enough. We are trapped by our own mistakes and failures. We buy into the lies of this world that tell us we cannot fully claim our identity. We let our worries and our addictions and our pride bind us up like chains.

As we say in our prayer of confession before communion:
We confess that we have not loved God with our whole heart.
We have failed to be an obedient church.
We have not done God’s will.
We have broken the law.
We have rebelled against God’s love
We have not loved our neighbors.

We are those prisoners, suffering in iron chains, sitting in darkness.

But then comes the line we pray after we ask for forgiveness:
Free us for joyful obedience.
Free us for joyful obedience.
Free us.

Williams found himself trapped by that voice in his life that told him he wasn’t good enough… until Christ came along and set him free from the weight of the guilt and the chains that he was carrying around.
He found a liberating freedom and joy in surrendering his life to Christ.
But he also realized that this freedom was not a personal gift.
No, it was meant to be shared.
And there is great joy and life that is found when we in turn head back out into this world to set others free.

In Isaiah chapter 58, the people have been trying to please God in their own way, but the prophet reminds them of what God wants from them.
This is the kind of fasting that God has chosen:
“to break the chains of injustice,
get rid of exploitation in the workplace,
free the oppressed, cancel debts.
What [God is] interested in seeing you do is:
sharing your food with the hungry,
inviting the homeless poor into your homes,
putting clothes on the shivering ill-clad,
being available to your own families.
Do this and the lights will turn on, and your lives will turn around at once.”

This morning, we sent out volunteers from our church to be in mission in Memphis. As they make that long drive today, they are heading out to souls that are hungry and burdened and stuck.
Our friends and neighbors and family have the opportunity this week to tell their own stories of God’s saving love, but also help to break some chains themselves.

But you don’t have to go on a mission trip to joyfully obey God’s will.
Right here in Des Moines, you can help us tackle hunger with your food pantry donations.
You can work to honor the dignity of women and girls and speak out against human trafficking.
You can volunteer with local refugee support groups.
You can donate your funds to our annual Peace with Justice Sunday offering – which is used to help effect change in a broken world.
This offering is used to support ministries like a peace ministry on Arizona border communities and address civil rights violations in Liberia.
In North Georgia, it helped provide resources to help low-income students attend preschool.
Grants from this offering have supported the Alaska Innocence Project, that helps to exonerate wrongfully convicted individuals.

This is what God wants for us.
God wants to rescue us from the hell we experience in our lives.
Jesus wants to save us from our guilt and addiction, from our sin and temptation, from our fears and our failures.
And then the Holy Spirit empowers us to turn back around into our communities and neighborhoods so that we can help take away pain, make a way for the lost, and break the chains of all who need freedom.

The story of salvation… the story of how we are made at-one with God… is about far more than a personal debt being paid.
It is also the story of coming home… of finding our place… of being rescued from anything that holds us back so that we can be restored back into the abundant life of community God desires for us.
That better life that waits for us is not simply a heavenly destination beyond the grave…
There is a better life right here and right now, for all of us, because Christ has set us free.

Mystery: Deserted

Posted on November 11, 2018Leave a comment

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Justice too long delayed is justice denied.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Way Forward? To Each Their Own Convictions

Posted on August 26, 20181 Comment

Text: Romans 14:4-12

“How do we know we are following the way of Christ?… How do we navigate the culture around us? What happens when Christians disagree profoundly with each other?”

There are just a few of the questions that Rev. Christine Chakoian believes Paul is trying to answer in his letter to the Romans. (CEB Women’s Study Bible Introduction)

And they are questions that we are wrestling with today.

What should we do when United Methodists, faithful followers of Jesus Christ profoundly disagree? How do we find our way forward?

In Paul’s time, the conflict he saw in the Roman community was a clash between Jews and Gentiles – people who followed the laws of the Old Testament and those who had never lived under that law but who were accepting Jesus Christ.

At this point in time, Christianity was not really a separate thing from the Jewish faith… It was a movement that had begun within the Jewish community, but it was also quickly taking root in Gentile communities who had no knowledge of or cultural connection with the Jewish faith

This created all sorts of problems:

Should someone be circumcised into the Jewish faith before being able to follow Jesus?

Did the Jewish dietary laws have to be followed?

What are the holy days that must be honored?

When you got to a cosmopolitan, diverse place like Rome, you had folks in the same community who held vastly different opinions about how the faith should be practiced.

People who ate meat and people who didn’t.

People who were circumcised and those who weren’t.

“One group, “Jeanette Good writes, “believes that the ‘right way’ is to rely solely on texts of old interpreted literally, and the other group is adamant that the ‘right way’ is to believe that God is being revealed in new ways to each generation. Both groups are ‘in their camps’ and are sure their positions are the right ones.” [1]

Sound familiar?

It would be impossible for us to talk about what comes next and how the various proposals to lead us forward might play out without getting a sense of the current landscape of the United Methodist Church today and the camps that people have fallen into.

We have them represented here by these four vessels of water.

The way I describe these camps is going to use terminology initially coined by Tom Lambrecht, the vice-president of Good News, a more conservative coalition within the UMC and then adopted by Tom Berlin. Tom Berlin not only wrote the stewardship book that we shared together this summer, but he serves a theologically diverse church on the outskirts of Washington, D.C. Both were members of the Commission on a Way Forward and both are noted as authors of two very different plans that have been proposed that we will discuss next week.

If you were here last week, we talked about six scriptures that have historically been understood to condemn homosexuality within the bible. If you missed this message or the one from the week before, you can pick up a copy on the back table.

We also discussed how our task as people of faith is to think theologically: to ask and reflect upon how God is working in the world today. We begin with scriptures like these and we interpret and translate and make sense of them in light of other scripture, the tradition that has been passed down to us, and our own human reason and experience.

These four sources, what we call the Wesleyan quadrilateral, helps the church translate the gospel to the world, but also helps the church make sense of the world around us. Last week, I asked some theological questions that we are called to wrestle with as a result of reading these passages:

Does the description of people in this passage reflect our experience of LGBT+ persons today?
What do scripture, tradition, reason, and experience lead us to claim are taboo sexual acts today, framed by our understanding of Christian community?
What is natural for LGBT persons? What are the fruits we see in the lives of LGBT persons?
How do we talk about sex, sexuality, and identity that rejects the way people use and abuse one another and helps all people to honor their bodies?

Those who would find themselves in the progressive camp read these six scriptures, faithfully interpret them, reflect theologically, and believe that they do not condemn LGBT+ persons.

They believe that some these passages refer to culturally bound understandings of holiness that no longer apply in Christian community.

These passages are not talking about loving, mutual, relationships between two persons, but instead about exploitive violent actions and abuse or cultic sexual practices.

Members of this camp would also point to scriptures that they believe affirm LGBT+ persons within the scriptures.

For example, King David and Saul’s son Jonathan had a close relationship. After Jonathan’s death, David laments: “I grieve for you, my brother Jonathan! You were so dear to me! Your love was more amazing to me than the love of women.” (2 Samuel 1:26)

They might also point to the time when Jesus healed the servant of a Roman centurian in Matthew 8 and Luke 7. Here, the Greek word for servant or slave – doulos – is not used, but instead, the word, pais, is used to describe the unwell person. A pais in this time was either a child – a son, or a close personal attendant, or was sometimes used to refer to a younger male lover. Progressives see this as a possible example of Jesus encountering an LGBT+ person and not hesitating to heal… in fact, even affirming the strength of this person’s faith.
Progressives would call us to look for the fruit in the lives of all persons who claim the Christian faith – do they love God and their neighbor? And for those who have experienced the call of God in their lives to serve, it wouldn’t matter if they were gay or straight. Progressives believe that the same standards for holiness should apply to all relationships, whether gay or straight. Is anyone being harmed through this sexual act? Does this relationship demonstrate mutual love and respect? How are chastity and fidelity expressed through this person’s life?

Progressives also would point to the marginalization of LGBT+ persons, not only in history but all around us today as well. They see current prohibitions in church law as harmful not only to our witness, but to the actual lives of LGBT+ persons. They would point towards statistics that show that LGBT youth are at a much higher risk for both homelessness and suicide than their peers and that LGBT youth for whom faith is important to them had a 5x higher rate of suicidal thoughts than their straight peers. [2]

As Jesus calls us to reach out to the sick, the oppressed, the hungry in order to offer life and life abundant, progressive United Methodists believe that a church that is not actively in ministry with LGBT+ persons and fully inclusive is being unfaithful to the gospel.

Those who would find them in the traditionalist camp read these six scriptures, faithfully interpret them, reflect theologically, and believe that scripture is clear about the prohibition of homosexual acts.

While justice might be a key word to describe progressives, covenant might be a key term for traditionalists.

They believe that these passages, along with others, describe what personal holiness looks like within the Christian community and that if we interpret the meaning away from these scriptures, than all of our understandings of personal holiness might be compromised. God has created us in a particular way, man and woman were designed for one another, and only within the covenant of marriage between one man and one woman are sexual acts pleasing to God.

When we choose to follow Christ, traditionalists would argue, we reject the ways of this world and allow ourselves to be conformed instead to Christ. That is the covenant under which we now live.

Traditionalists believe are called, in community, to hold one another accountable to this covenant. That means there must be a clear, shared understandings of what is right and what is not. To be faithful to the gospel, one must call out sin and invite repentance and transformation. If we fail to do so, then we are allowing that person to remain on a path that might permanently separate them from God’s love.

So these are the camps in which we find ourselves today. Progressives and Traditionalists, who each love the church, love Jesus, and love scripture.

When we turn back to the Apostle Paul and his description of conflict within the early Christian community in Rome, he appears to have solid advice for us to rely upon today.

“One person considers some days to be more sacred than others, while another person considers all days to the be same. Each person must have their own convictions. Someone who thinks that a day is sacred, thinks that way for the Lord. Those who eat, eat for the Lord, because they thank God. And those who don’t eat, don’t eat for the Lord, and they thank the Lord too.”

To each their own, Paul appears to be saying.

These practices, these convictions, they are not essential to what it means to follow Jesus.

If you are celebrating particular holy days in the Lord’s name – great!

If you choose to refrain from participating in the Lord’s name – great!

Because you are doing it all in the name of Jesus.

Whether or not you keep kosher laws or are circumcised or whether you prefer pew chairs or pews – as long as you are focused on your Lord – that’s all that really matters.

Paul goes on to say that we should not judge one another for our various convictions. Each person will stand before the Lord in their own time. We are not to force our own convictions about practices upon one another, nor are we to be a stumbling block to another person’s faith by allowing our practices to interfere with those of others.

Within these progressive and traditionalist camps in the United Methodist Church today are those who take Paul’s words to heart. Tom Berlin uses sugar packets instead of vessels of water to demonstrate these various positions.

As you can see there are progressives and traditionalists represented here who have their own deeply held convictions about how we should relate to LGBT+ persons – justice and full inclusion or covenant faithfulness.

But there are those within each of these camps that understand people who have been wrestling with these questions arrive in different places. These folks also don’t believe that the answer to this particular question is essential to our faith.

Lambrecht and Berlin would refer to these folks as compatibilists.

Compatibilists are willing to remain in community with those who disagree with them. They know and understand that our very church is full of a diversity of perspectives on this topic, but that what unifies us as United Methodists – what IS essential is our understanding of grace, our focus on personal and social holiness, and the connection that allows us to be in ministry across this globe.

Compatibilists might best be described as those who firmly hold their own particular theological convictions, but also respect the theological convictions of others. As we live together within the church, what is important is that there is freedom of conviction and no one is forced to act against their own beliefs.

As long as you love God and love your neighbor and seek to live and die for the Lord, the non-essentials of our faith should not divide us.
There are those within each of the progressive and traditionalist camps, however, who would reject the idea that this is a non-essential of our faith.

They would argue that Paul is talking here are about practices like what we eat and wear – truly non-essential things. But values like justice and covenant are not something you can compromise.

Traditional non-compatibilists believe that our call to covenantal holiness requires us to maintain these standards across the church. They want the church to be faithful to what they believe are obvious prohibitions within scripture. We are not called to be blown to and fro by the winds of culture, but must hold firm to the tradition that has been passed down to us.

Progressive non-compatibilists believe that our call to justice for all people requires us to see anew who Jesus is standing with in the margins. They want the church to be faithful to what they believe are the obvious cries for inclusion within scripture. We are not called to a legalistic faith, but must allow the Holy Spirit to lead us and recognize the presence of God in LGBT+ persons.

Within the United Methodist Church today, this division has created our current conflict.

Progressives are dissatisfied with the current language within our Book of Discipline and by and believes that it harms our witness for Jesus Christ in the world today. They believe that they are being faithful to the gospel by disobeying the Book of Discipline in order to celebrate same-gender weddings and welcome LGBT+ folks into ministry of the church.

Those who are Traditional Non-Compatibilists see these actions and feel like the covenant we have made with one another has been broken. They feel personally harmed by this betrayal and some are leaving these churches as a result.

Traditionalists who are frustrated that the covenant has not been honored are seeking to maintain the discipline of the church by naming and formalizing consequences of these actions. We have a process for accountability within our Book of Discipline that begins with the filing of a complaint, and you may have heard in the past few years of such complaints being filed here in Iowa against pastors who have officiated same-gender weddings or who have publicly come out as queer.

Those who are Progressives see these actions and feel like it not only personally harms people who are LGBT+ but has also harmed their congregations as people have left their churches because we are not fully inclusive.

Within the United States, there are regional differences that are apparent. The Western Jurisdiction is more progressive than other areas and in 2016 consecrated Karen Oliveto as a bishop, a woman who is married to another woman.

Annual conferences across the North Central and Northeastern Jurisdictions have committed to ordaining clergy based on their fruit, not their sexual orientation.
Southern Jurisdictions and Annual Conferences throughout the connection are advocating for a church that maintains its faithfulness to scripture and traditional understandings of marriage.

And there are global factors.

The conversation we have had today is largely U.S. based, but the United Methodist Church is a global denomination. While assumptions should not be made about any particular area of the global church, it is thought that the majority of our African and Filipino brothers and sisters would describe themselves as traditionalists. In many of their own cultural realities, homosexuality is rejected and in some places even an illegal practice. Others, in parts of our connection like Western Europe, would align more with the progressives. The goal of the Commission on a Way Forward was this: To design a way for being church that maximizes the presence of a United Methodist witness in as many places in the world as possible, that allows for as much contextual differentiation as possible, and that balances an approach to different theological understandings of human sexuality with a desire for as much unity as possible.

Is the question of human sexuality an essential of our faith? Will our response divide the church?

Or is it a non-essential? Is it a place where we can respectfully disagree and create space for one another?

The plans that we will explore together next week will answer those questions differently. The impact of these plans on our particular congregation can only be known if we have a sense of where this church itself stands.

For that reason, I want to invite you each to take and fill out one of these yellow surveys. We will compile these anonymous responses in order to have a sense of the impact any of these plans might have on this church.

I’m going to give you a few minutes to do so right now. There are four simple questions to answer.

First, based on what we have described today, where would you place yourself on this spectrum of progressive/traditional and compatible/non-compatible?

Next, three questions about how you personally might respond if there were or were not changes to our Book of Discipline.

As a reminder, here is a general description of the Book of Discipline’s current language:

The Book of Discipline affirms that we should be in ministry with all persons and reject homophobia. It also states that homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching. Marriage is defined as between one man and one woman. Self-avowed practicing homosexuals may not be ordained as clergy.

What I want to leave us with today is a phrase that John Wesley clung to in his own ministry – a phrase that exemplifies the spirit of our passage in Romans today:

In essentials, unity.

In non-essentials, liberty.

In all things love.

May God continue to lead us as hold fast to the essentials of our faith, respect differences in non-essentials, and may love been the source of all that we do.

Let’s stand together as we are able and affirm some of those essentials that form the core of our faith.

[1] Jeanette Good. Feasting on the Word, Year A, Volume 4, p 65

[2] https://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/queer-youth-religion-suicide-study_us_5ad4f7b3e4b077c89ceb9774

Do What Is Good

Posted on February 18, 2018Leave a comment

I think in many ways it is a cruel irony that as we begin our Lenten series on heroes that our first pop culture example is the Dark Knight, Batman.
As a young boy, Bruce Wayne was a victim of gun violence.
In a dark alley, his parents were gunned down by a thief in front of his very eyes.
That traumatic moment forever changed the course of his life – setting him on a path to fight crime, battle evil, and protect his city.

Over the past few days, I have watched other young people, teenagers who survived the school shooting in Parkland, Florida, take up their own calling to demand change in a society in which too many lives are taken as a result of gun violence.
I read a story this morning about moms in Keosauqua here in southeast Iowa who rallied together on Thursday to raise the money to install a safety device called a sleeve in every classroom in their small school.
As one mom said, “we’re tired of it. It’s like, OK, nobody’s going to do anything about this: Our government, our state government, our national government. We’re the moms, and these are our kids. What can we do?” (https://www.desmoinesregister.com/story/news/local/columnists/kyle-munson/2018/02/16/sick-school-shootings-these-iowa-moms-took-action-single-day-make-their-kids-classrooms-safe/344133002/?hootPostID=746aea71a5583aa9b0209e37f4bdbabb)

What can we do?
When evil seems to lurk around every corner…
When the places we thought were safe become sites of terror…
When a sense of hopelessness in the ability to truly witness change starts to seep in…

Sometimes our “what can we do?” is a cry of resignation.

Where are the good guys? Where are the heroes who are going to rise up and make everything better?

And sometimes, it is a reminder that we, too, have been called to act. Our discipleship is lived out in how we answer that question.

Each of the weeks of this Lenten series, we are going to be exploring together ways we often see the world through opposing lenses: good vs. evil, right vs. wrong, insiders vs. outsiders. We divide up this world and place ourselves firmly in one camp or another.
And yet, as we think together about how Jesus comes to redeem and restore this world… how Jesus acts to save us from sin and bring us eternal live, we discover that often Jesus turns our ways of viewing the world upside down.

In fact, when a leader of the community tried to call Jesus “good” in an effort to flatter him, Jesus practically rejected the label. “Why do you call me good?” he asks in Luke chapter 18. “No one is good but God alone.”

In doing so, Jesus reminds that all that is good comes from God.
When our Creator spent six days building and forming and shaping all that we know and see, God looked out and called it good.
That isn’t because of something innate within us.
It is because we are from God.

And so, what is this evil that we promise to resist in our baptismal vows?
What is this force that opposes life and leads so many on paths of destruction?
Matt Rawle defines evil in his book, “What Makes a Hero?” as nothingness. “Evil represents a void…. Evil is a shadow that cannot stand on its own. A shadow by itself is nothing but the absence of light… made manifest when someone or something stands between us and the light of God shining through Christ.” (p. 26)

Evil is the result when we let anyone or anything stand between us and the love and power of God made manifest in this world.
Sometimes what blocks the goodness of God is our own selfishness and sin.
Sometimes it is anger and resentment.
Sometimes it is idolatry – when we take something that is on its own good or neutral in value – but elevate it to a status that blocks our ability to reason or follow God.
I think in many ways, our nation’s obsession with guns has reached the point of idolatry. Guns themselves are not good or bad, they just are… however, our unwillingness to even allow for research to be done as to the causes of such endemic gun violence means that we cannot take the actions we need to in order to curb the tide of this deadly force.

I think about how through training and technology, Bruce Wayne would put on his bat costume and watch over Gotham, but traditionally, Batman never took up a gun himself. Even as he fought night after night against the dark forces, he sought to never use deadly force in bringing justice to his city. He kept himself focused on his purpose and what he was fighting against.

As people of faith, our call is not simply call something good or evil, but to keep our eyes focused on our purpose and the source of what is truly good, God alone.
It is what Christ did as he lived out his ministry among us.
And in many ways, the blueprint for how we should live and follow his example is found in that familiar verse from the prophet Micah.

“He has told you, human one, what is good and what the Lord requires from you: to do justice, embrace faithful love, and walk humbly with your God.”
Goodness is therefore the result of a life of justice, mercy, and humility.

First, we are called to do justice.
As Jesus reaches out to teach a lawyer about how to receive eternal life, he tells the parable of the good Samaritan.
The lawyer must learn to recognize even the Samaritan as his brother.
He must do justice by acknowledging that God has created each and every person.
Oppression and violence and hatred must cease.
We must always look out for the outcast, the vulnerable among us.

Second, we must embrace God’s love and practice mercy.
Jesus lived this out through acts of healing and mercy – feeding the hungry, healing the sick.
In every action, he sought to bring life to people by reaching out and touching them.
It is not just reaching out in love, however, to people we know and care about… it is also reaching out to offer kindness and forgiveness even to those who would seek to harm us.
Just as Bruce Wayne refused to take up the weapons that destroyed his family, so Jesus refuses to play the games or fight in the ways of evil.
He forgives those who crucify him.
He doesn’t fight back.
He knows that with God there is another way.

Lastly, we are called to walk humbly with our God.
Jesus showed us what this meant through the cross.
The greatest love, he told us, was to lay down our lives for our friends.
And so as the Christ hymn of Philippians reminds us, even though Christ Jesus was in the form of God, he emptied himself, he was born among us, and he humbled himself even to the point of death in order to serve the will of God. (Philippians 2:5-8)

Today, we are called to a life of goodness. A life of justice, and mercy, and humility.
We are called to lay aside anything that would distract us from God’s life and power in this world.
When evil looms around us and lives are being taken every day by forces that oppose God’s will, I think we are invited this Lent to a time of reflection and repentence.
Where are we complicit?
Where do we need to seek justice?
Where do we need to practice mercy?
Where do we need to humbly bow before our God and lay aside our idols?
May God stir our hearts…

The Beloved Community

Posted on August 7, 2016Leave a comment

Today, we enter the world of Micah… a prophet from the late 8^th century… just over 700 years before Christ.

And to put ourselves in Micah’s shoes, I want you to imagine with me for a moment a world that is under great stress.

Imagine pressure coming from an aggressive empire or state that believes their success is determined by how far they expand their influence and power and who will stop at nothing to do so.

Imagine attacks upon nations’ capitols. Imagine an influx of refugees. Imagine increased social stresses. Imagine those attacks that were far away and in other places suddenly taking place in your own homeland.

Maybe we don’t really have to imagine, do we.

Like Isaiah, Micah wrote from the Southern Kingdom, Judah, and witnessed the downfall of the Northern Kingdom, Israel. And also like Isaiah, there are sections of this short book of scripture that seem to come from AFTER the time of Judah’s own destruction and exile two hundred years later, possibly updated by others.

And that is because Micah, like so many of our prophets, is lifting up a timeless theme that is just as relevant today as it was 2700 years ago. We, too, could update the names of nations and rulers and find ourselves right here in this text, right now.

The judgments and accusations against Samaria… against Jerusalem… those capital cities of these ancient nations… they could be leveled against Washington, D.C. or Des Moines, Iowa as well.

So let us hear them… Let us hear these judgments and lift up our confession

We seek God in all the wrong places (1:5)… like Pastor Jennifer said last week, we often turn to everything but God in order to fill that God-shaped hole in our heart. Whether it is the abuse of drugs or sex, Netflix binges or self-help books, we have a spiritual hunger that we seek to fill in so many ways EXCEPT by seeking God. Forgive us, O God.

We exploit the work of others and we tear down their homes… even the meager homes and tents of the most vulnerable among us (2:1-2). Here in Des Moines, we know the homeless are among us and yet our official city policy is to keep evicting the homeless camps, knowing that there is nowhere else for these people to go. We do not have enough beds and shelter spaces or a long-term strategy in place. Forgive us, O God.

We turn to prophets who say all the things we want to hear, instead of what we need to hear (2:11). I think one of the biggest symptoms of this is the echo chambers we find ourselves in… only paying attention to the news or science or reports that we agree with and only being friends with those who share our opinions. Forgive us, O God.

Our public officials who should guard justice are corrupt and take advantage of the very people they should be serving (3:2-3). No matter which sides of the political spectrum we are on, we recognize politics is a dirty business. Unlike the political landscape of Micah’s day, we live in a democracy and have the unprecedented opportunity to hold our public officials accountable through our votes and yet, so often we choose not to exercise that right. Forgive us, O God.

The pastors and religious leaders serve the highest bidder, yet claim to be serving and proclaiming God’s will (3:11). Too often, our religious leaders try to whittle all of scripture down to a single issue and claim this is the only issue that matters above all else, and then use that one issue to influence our people and our politics. I believe in doing so, we are neglecting the breadth and depth of God’s call to us as God’s people. So for the times I have done this, Forgive me, O God.

What the prophet Micah offers to us are not simply words of condemnation and judgement, but also a vision of what true community in God could look like. Micah calls us to a different way of living and being in this world. Micah paints a picture of the beloved community… a sort of antidote to all of the spiritual, political, and economic sins of our day.

That term, “beloved community,” was often used by the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. as a description of the ends sought by the civil rights movement. In that time of turmoil and unease, he relied upon the wisdom of the prophets to help show the way forward. And because the goal of the movement was redemption and reconciliation, the only path forward, Dr. King believe, was a path of nonviolence. It was the only means that would seek the ends of God.

He proclaimed: “the end is reconciliation; the end is redemption; the end is the creation of the beloved community. It is this type of spirit and this type of love that can transform opposers into friends…. it is agape which is understanding goodwill for all men. It is an overflowing love which seeks nothing in return. It is the love of God working in the lives of men. This is the love that may well be the salvation of our civilization.”

Now, that passage is from his 1957 message called, “The Role of the Church in Facing the Nation’s Chief Moral Dilemma.”

Right now, as a nation have a moral dilemma. We have neglected the vulnerable. We demonize our opponents. We are afraid of one another. We are unable or unwilling to speak out when we see our neighbors oppressed.

And, we, the church, are called to say something… to do something… to be active agents of God’s redemptive power in this place.

We, too, need to hear again the call of the prophets, the vision of God’s kingdom so that WE can live in the kind of way that might bring salvation to our civilization.

And in Micah’s vision, there are three things that we, the church, can do.

First, we need to stop waiting for our leaders and we need to go to the house of God, to learn from God and walk in God’s path.

We have to get deeper into our scriptures. We need to sit with our bibles and in prayer and ask for God’s guidance. If Pastor Jennifer is right, and I believe she is, that the moral famine of our world is preceded by our spiritual famine, then we need to start being fed once again by God’s word. So make Sunday mornings a priority in your family and come to not only worship and fellowship, but get involved with a study. Participate in a life group. Find a friend and pray together once a week. Ask daily for God to guide you.

Second, we need to set aside violence and bloodshed and stop being afraid.

We might not walk around with spears or swords, but our own weapons today include more than guns. As Bishop Jonathan Keaton preached at our North Central Jurisdictional Conference, social media has allowed for daily combat. We fire off shots like snipers towards unseen and nameless others. We bully and taunt with a few taps of our fingers. And we escalate conflict, learning war and hatred from one another instead of seeking the ways of peace.

Seeking nonviolent interaction with our neighbors or enemies is about more than refusing to physically strike them. It is also refusing to impart spiritual or emotional blows. It is about choosing to see your opponent as a child of God. It is about choosing love over fear or hate.

And finally, we can live a life of worship. A life, in our language, of love, service, and prayer.

Micah describes this life of worship, not in rituals meant to appease God, but in every waking moment we live out the greatest commandments… to love God with all of our heart, soul, mind and strength and to love our neighbor as ourselves.

We worship by doing justice.

We worship by loving kindness.

We worship by walking humbly with God.

Or as the Message translation puts it: Do what is fair and just to your neighbor. Be compassionate and loyal in your love. And don’t take yourself too seriously… take God seriously!

Will the entire world be transformed if we do these things? Not overnight. But we can never get to that beloved community… we will never see God’s kingdom lived out right here on earth if we never take the first step.

If you are seeking an instruction manual or the blueprints for the beloved community it’s right here:

God’s made it plain how to live, what to do, what God is looking for in men and women.

Do justice.

Love kindness.

Walk humbly with God.

Serve. Love. Pray. Every single day. Amen.