politics – Salvaged Faith

Again & Again, We Draw on Courage

Posted on March 28, 2021Leave a comment

Text: John 12:1-19

Over these past few years, our church has become a sacred space for a group of folks who once called Myanmar home.

Their families came here to the United States seeking opportunity and possibility and escape from violence they found welcome not only in our city, but here in this building.

This week, at our Global Ministries meeting, I heard a report from National Justice for our Neighbors. This incredible United Methodist organization provides legal assistance for immigrants, asylum seekers and refugees from across the globe. In their clinics across the United States, they serve people from more than 122 countries.

One of the top five nations in 2020 served is Myanmar… largely because of the JFON clinic right here in Des Moines.

We’ve gotten to know these neighbors through Wednesday night suppers and VBS and third grade bible and by joining in with a few of their quarterly revivals.

Over the last few months, my heart has ached for these new friends of ours as word came about a coup in their homeland.

The seeds of democracy that were beginning to sprout have been hijacked by military forces that are determined to hang on to the power and position they enjoyed for over 70 years.

As protestors have risen up in the streets, the military junta has responded with force. Yesterday, 114 protestors were killed when the military switched to live ammo.

Now, the people of Myanmar find themselves living in a situation that feels oh so familiar, and yet so hard to comprehend.

I reached out a few weeks ago to Mu and asked how we can pray for her community here and back in Myanmar. Peace and stability are hard to come by, but she was grateful to know that they have our support.

As I thought of these friends and neighbors of ours and the experience of their homeland, I began to consider the reality of the people of Jerusalem at the time of Jesus.

It is easy to forget that Jerusalem and Israel were occupied by military might.

The Roman Empire ruled the land… not the Israelites.

And the Jewish leaders we read about on these pages of scripture only had as much authority as the Romans allowed them to have.

Step out of line or raise too much fuss and their positions could just as easily be taken away.

The longing for a Savior was not just a spiritual yearning.

It was political, too.

It was about God toppling over all of the systems and powers and authorities that were holding the people back.

It was about God’s promised future taking root and becoming real, not in some heavenly reality, but on earth, on that land, in that place.

In the gospels, we hear glimpses of this promise: “Thy will be done on earth.”

“God became flesh and lived among us.”

“ The Kingdom of Heaven is here.”

In the gospel of John in particular, which we have been following for a few weeks, the ministry of Jesus and the inbreaking of God’s reign is causing a lot of friction and tension.

Every step of the way, every sign, every teaching is creating conflict with the religious, political, and social establishments.

Upending the world as they knew it.

And all of this comes to a head in chapter 11 when Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead.

Lazarus lives near Jerusalem and going there to heal… or to raise him… was itself a risky proposition.

But the love of Jesus calls Lazarus out of the tomb, knowing that it would cost his own life.

And then, knowing that people wanted to kill him…

Knowing that the powers of this world wanted to destroy his message…

Knowing that everything was on the line…

Jesus entered Jerusalem. Not quietly. Not undercover.

But drawing upon the strength of scripture and tradition and the community, he stages a kind of political theatre.

He uses Messianic imagery from the scriptures, riding on the colt, a sign of a King entering the city and he does it perhaps at the same time as the Roman governor, Pilate, would have been paraded into Jerusalem for the feast by another gate.

“Through the Palms” Rev. Lauren Wright Pittman | A Sanctified Art | www.sanctifiedart.org

It was a living, breathing protest against those in power.

In the same moment that hands were lifted in praise, others were lifted in shouts of accusation.

And those who showed up to line the streets and shout their, “Hosannas!” were doing so at their own risk.

In her piece, “Through the Palms,” Rev. Lauren Wright Pittman tries to capture this moment. You can see both the fingers pointing and the hands lifted.

In the midst of it all, Jesus pauses.

When we have a target on our back, sometimes we need to stop and steel ourselves.

We need to draw on courage.

Pittman writes about what Jesus must have been imagining as he closed his eyes and stroked the donkey’s hair… the anguish of Mary and Martha, the fragrance of the burial perfume, the judging glare of Judas… reminders of what these steps into Jerusalem would entail… death and resistance and misunderstanding.

Pittman offers this image, “as a reminder to call upon God for the courage you need to rest and recharge for the work ahead. But I hope it also heartens you to move forward in courage, even in the midst of great resistance.”

The very word, courage, comes from the Latin word for heart.

“Courage is deep within us;” Rev. Lisle Gwynn Garrity writes, “drawing on courage is both internal and external. We often find it when we most need it, when everything else has been stripped away.”

When we draw upon God, upon our traditions, upon one another, we find the strength we need to “take heart” and keep going.

There is so much in our world today that calls for courageous action.

Whether it is standing up to white supremacy, or challenging injustice in institutions, or advocating for the vulnerable in the halls of congress…

Or more ordinary, every day things like challenging a bully in your life or speaking up for yourself…

Whether it is finding the courage to address your own mental health, or to search for a new job that brings you life and allows you to use your gifts…

When we catch a glimpse of how things could be, sometimes we need to be still and recharge our spirits and connect with that well of strength in our own hearts to step forward and act.

Like faithful servants and prophets and disciples before us, we draw on courage to move towards the vision of who and what God desires this world to become.

And often, when we tap into that courage we find creative ways of resisting and challenging the world as it is.

Like the men and women and children that lined the streets on Palm Sunday to wave branches and shout hosannas and to call out for a new king to come and save us… even if it meant speaking out against forces that could kill them.

Or the ways that everyday folks in Myanmar are living out this kind of courageous Palm Sunday protest against the military forces oppressing the democratic spirit.

Even in the midst of deadly response from the military junta, they are taking to the streets to resist. The images shared here are from Frontier Myanmar, a community of independent journalists in the country.

The theologian and poet, Maren Tirabassi, captured the courageous spirit of their protest in her poem, “Hope is a bag of onions”

Hope is a bag of onions
I am praying for Myanmar and I am crying,
then I open my Australian newspaper
and an article by “Anonymous”
tells me about new creative protest.

Some is by Generation Z surely,
those who do not remember
the horrific violence of 1988 or 2007,
but know they do not want
the coup to succeed.
The generation of “pop up” and “work around,”
is joined also by many others.

Every night is the “metal bucket protest,”
fifteen minutes of banging pots and pans.
Too short to pinpoint the homes,
and too traditional,
after all, it is
the way to drive out evil spirits.

Ten cars stop in the road, open their hoods,
tell police they’ve broken down –
traffic grinds to a halt.
A bride in a wedding dress
holds a sign telling the world
she doesn’t want her babies
to grow up under martial law.

And students cross the streets
with bags of onions,
except there are holes in them.
Cars stop,
while they pick up and bag again,
pick up and bag again –
onions, the same ones,
over and over again.

I am praying for Myanmar
in the midst of this terrible coup,
and my heart fills
with their tremendous courage –
today these onions do not make me cry.

I am praying daily for the people of Myanmar and for our neighbors here…

and I hope you will join me.

And I hope that we might all draw on the courage of Christ as we live out our faith in this world, that we might stand up for the vulnerable, and speak out against things that would destroy, and together build a world that looks more and more like the reign of God every single day.

Follow The Star: Invitation

Posted on January 17, 2021Leave a comment

Text: John 1:43-51

This year has begun with chaos, violence, grief, and pain.
And I have to admit that when I sat down to write this sermon, the words just wouldn’t come.
Or rather, I would write and then my anger and frustration would kick in and I’d have to delete what I had typed.
And then I’d sit in sadness for a while.
What, honestly, do we say in times like these.
Can we go on as if everything is normal?

But the more I sat, the more I felt God nudging me to stay in that moment.
To not try to soothe or explain anything with words, but to simply be.
God could see where I was… and God still loved me.
God didn’t need anything else from me.

So today, rather than telling you what this text is all about, I invite you into a space to simply be with God.
To let where you are today, in this moment, to be revealed.
God is inviting you to come into the presence of Christ just as you are.
And ironically? Providentially? God had already given us a text to use.

So, find a comfortable place to sit…
Close your eyes.
Place your feet on the ground or your hands by your side…
Feel the substance, the strength, of the ground or surface beneath them.
Notice the places where your body is connected to whatever is supporting you.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.

In our lesson today, Jesus is calling disciples.
“Follow me,” he says.
He issues an invitation not to everyone, but to individuals.
People with gifts and talents and baggage and stories.
Think about the people you might encounter on a regular basis.
Who among them do you think Jesus would pick out and personally invite to follow him?
What is it about their life that makes them worthy of the invitation?
Is there any among those people you imagine Jesus would not invite?
Notice what that question does in your heart.
There might be people we would exclude… But is there anyone Jesus would exclude?

If Jesus turned to you and said, “Follow me,” how would you respond?
What would you do first?

Our scripture tells us that Philip receives an invitation.
And the first thing he does is to go and find his friend.
He goes to share the good news.
“We’ve found him!” Philip says. “The One we’ve been waiting for!”
Waiting for a long time.
Since the time Moses… and Isaiah…
Centuries of waiting.
And in light of this invitation to respond and participate, Philip’s response to Jesus is outgoing and exuberant.
Without any kind of judgment, think about your own response to God’s invitation.
Do the words outgoing or exuberant describe you?
If not, think about someone who embodies those qualities.
What is a gift that someone like Philip brings to the ministry of Christ in the world?

Nathanael also received an invitation to follow Jesus.
Not personally, but through his friend.
And his first response is to ask a question.
“What good can come out of Nazareth?”
After centuries of waiting, he is hopefully, but weary.
Maybe a little jaded or cynical.
Or maybe Nathanael just wants to know more.
Or he is troubled by the certainty that his friend has.
Without any kind of judgment, think about your response to God’s invitation.
Do the words weary or questioning describe you?
If not, think about someone who embodies those qualities.
What is a gift that someone like Nathanael could bring to the ministry of Christ in the world?

Sometimes in our relationships with others, we find ourselves at odds with someone.
They don’t share our joy… or frustration. They ask hard questions. Or push back.
In a world of division, this might feel more common than ever.
What do you do when others react this way?
Are you hurt? Do you give them space? Do you turn away from them? Are you persistent? Do you try to argue your point?
Think about how Philip replies to his friend.
He isn’t put off by the skepticism, he doesn’t push back.
He simply offers another invitation.
“Come and see.”
Think about someone in your life you disagree with. About politics, about covid, about Jesus…
How might you ask them to “come and see”?
To invite them in rather than push them away.

Our scripture today concludes with Nathanael meeting Jesus.
A Jesus who sees him.
A Jesus who knows him.
Inside and out.
Before they ever spoke, Jesus knew his questions and his honesty.
What some people might name as a fault, Jesus sees as a gift.
And when he realizes God knows him so intimately…
That God loves him…
And welcomes him…
And accepts him…
As he is…
He cries out his profession of faith.
This same Jesus that saw Nathanael sees you.
Knows you.
Whether you are exuberant like Philip…
Or questioning like Nathanael…
Or quiet…
Or angry…
Or grieving…
Or weary…
Whatever you are today, know this.
You are known by God.
You are invited and welcomed by God.
You are a gift of God to this world.
Amen.

Sing! Play! Summer! – The Old Rugged Cross

Posted on June 30, 2019Leave a comment

Text: 1 Corinthians 1:18-29

A young rabbi found a serious problem in his new congregation.
During the Friday service, half the congregation stood for the prayers and half remained seated, and each side insisted that theirs was the true tradition.
Nothing the rabbi said or did moved toward solving the impasse.
Finally, in desperation, the young rabbi sought out the synagogue’s 99-year-old founder. He met the old rabbi in the nursing home and poured out his troubles.
“So tell me,” he pleaded, “was it the tradition for the congregation to stand during the prayers?”
“No,” answered the old rabbi.
”Ah,” responded the younger man, “then it was the tradition to sit during the prayers?”
“No,” answered the old rabbi.
“Well,” the young rabbi responded, “what we have is complete chaos! Half the people stand and shout, and the other half sit and scream.”
“Ah,” said the old man, “that was the tradition.”

Like that Jewish congregation of sitters and standers, one of the things that I appreciate about the people of Immanuel is that no matter what differences you have, you still come together to worship and serve.
There have been winners and losers and conflict in our history.
There have been folks who got their way and those that didn’t,
people who stayed and people who left.
Sometimes conflict appeared over silly little things.
And sometimes conflict brought to the center of our attention real problems that needed to be addressed by our whole community.

One of the things I love about turning back to these letters from Paul to the first Christian communities is that they help us remember the struggles we face today are problems people of faith have been facing for thousands of years.
There may not be much comfort in that… but at least we have good company!

Paul begins his letter to the church in Corinth by praising God for all of the potential of this amazing congregation.
But then he reminds them of the one thing that is keeping them from realizing God’s will in their midst.
“In the name of Jesus,” Paul writes, “you must get along with each other! You must learn to be considerate of one another and cultivate a life in common.” (message paraphrase)
Paul looks at this church and sees people who are wrestling for the spotlight.
He sees people who think they are right and everyone else is wrong.
He sees people who really do want to be faithful, but are going about it the wrong way.
They think to be faithful, they have to be on the “right team.”
So they pick sides.
They follow Apollos or Cephas.
They throw their lot in with Paul.
Some of them even go around saying, “to heck with all this division… I’m just going to follow Jesus!” And in doing so, they only stoke the fires of competition even more… because, isn’t everyone trying to follow Jesus? Who among us gets to claim that name more than any other?

In the worldly realm of politics, we see this all the time.
There are winners and losers on every issue.
There is competition for money and time and we don’t care who gets run over in the process.
We don’t care who our words hurt or what we do to our nation in the process.

I think about the crisis happening on our nation’s southern border.
Global Ministries and the United Methodist Committee on Relief (UMCOR) have declared today a Sunday of Solidarity with the Suffering of our Children.
They call us to pay attention, to pray, and to respond out of the love of Christ.
We need to become more aware of the devastating conditions in Latin American countries that lead families to pick up everything and risk their lives for a better opportunity.
I think about how complicated our asylum process is and how misunderstood it is by U.S. citizens.
We wrestle with the tension between security and compassion, safety and welcome and long for a solution that isn’t an either/or.
The reality is, this isn’t an issue between Democrats and Republicans, because policies of family separation began under the Obama administration and have simply been continued and enforced under Trump.
This past week, when a government lawyer argued against providing toothbrushes to children, the reality is, she was in court because of a violation of the Flores Agreement under the previous president.
We get so caught up in slinging words at one another and picking sides, that we have closed our eyes to an immoral response to this humanitarian crisis for years.
We become trapped in a cycle of blame.
We are unwilling to examine the problems in our own corner of the political spectrum.
Every side thinks it has the answer and is unwilling to listen to those who are most impacted by the decisions being enacted.

When Paul wrote to the Corinthians, he was aware that this continuous practice of win/lose partisan behavior ends up exacting a high cost.
It is not the politicians or the intellectuals or even the biblical scholars who will save us.
We won’t find our solutions by picking a side and tearing the other down.
The only answer that will really and truly bring life is found in the way of the cross.
It is sacrifice.
It is humility.
It is weakness.
It is utter foolishness.
It is everything.

George Bennard was born in Ohio, but grew up in Iowa as the son of a tavern owner and coal miner.
He came to faith as a part of a Salvation Army ministry in his early twenties and became a Methodist evangelist, traveling throughout the Midwest.
One of his journeys took him to Michigan in 1912-13 to help lead a revival and he found himself heckled and ridiculed by some young people in attendance.
Bennard felt low, shamed, let the words of those young people start to get to him…
The world doesn’t always understand the way of the cross.
But he kept his eyes on Christ and began to study and write about his experience.
The words began to flow and before long, he sat with his guitar and finished the song.

The Old Rugged Cross is an emblem of suffering and shame.
It is despised by the world.
It is full of shame and reproach.
And yet… to that very cross we are called to cling.

Paul tells that Corinthian church trapped in their conflict between who is right and wrong that they are called to become fools.
They are called to be the laughing-stocks of their community.
They are called to lay down their weapons of division and look out instead to where God is showing up in the world:
In the weak.
In the lowly.
In those who are considered nothing.
The good news that points to Christ on the Cross seems like sheer foolishness to those hellbent on destruction, but for those on the way of salvation… it makes perfect sense. (paraphrase of the Message).
The cross is what unifies us.
The cross is our standard.
The cross of Christ, his life, death and resurrection, should be the focus of all our decisions.

Faced with any conflict, we should cling to that Old Rugged Cross.
We are called to love as Christ did… sacrificially.
We are called to go to the margins, to the outcast, to the forgotten.
We are called to die to self, to leave behind security and safety in order to be in radical solidarity with others.

I think about Scott Warren, a teacher from Arizona who was arrested for leaving water and sheltering migrants from Central America in 2017.
He broke the laws of our country and found himself in prison because he took seriously the call of Christ to clothe the naked and give drink to the thirsty.
In the midst of a nation pointing fingers and arguing about laws, we are called to find a way through the chaos of difference… and the only path is through the cross.
And sometimes that makes us look like fools by worldly standards.

When we cling to the Old Rugged Cross, we allow Christ to transform us.
We become the crucified and risen body of Christ in the world…
We go to those who suffer and suffer with them.
We enter the lives of the broken and the lost to bring healing and hope.
We share our love and compassion and mercy and in doing so, we share the good news of the salvation with the world.

It is in the weak and the lowly and those the world declares are nothing that we find Christ.
So let us join our hearts in prayer…

(adapted from a prayer offered by UMCOR)
God of All Children Everywhere,
Our hearts are bruised when we see children suffering alone.
Our hearts are torn when we are unable to help.
Our hearts are broken when we have some complicity in the matter.
For all the times we were too busy and shooed a curious child away, forgive us, oh God.
For all the times we failed to get down on their level and look eye to eye with a child, forgive us, oh God.
For all the times we did not share when we saw a hungry child somewhere in the world, forgive us, oh God.
For all the times we thought about calling elected officials to demand change, but did not, forgive us, oh God.
For all the times we thought that caring for the children of this world was someone else’s responsibility, forgive us, oh God.
With Your grace, heal our hearts.
With Your grace, unite us in action.
With Your grace, repair our government and communities.
With Your grace, help us to find a way to welcome all children everywhere,
That they may know that Jesus loves them, Not just because “the Bible tells them so,”
But because we have shown them Your love in real and tangible ways,
And they know that nothing, absolutely nothing, can separate them from Your love.
May the cross of suffering and shame bring beauty and light and love and light to those who are the most in need of love.
And in loving them, in becoming fools for them, in denying ourselves and taking up Your cross, may we find life, too.
Amen.

Untitled

Posted on October 7, 2018Leave a comment

Text: Mark 9:38-41

Sometimes the best thing a preacher can do is to be real and authentic.

And so I’m going to confess that I’m really struggling with how to share this text with you this week.

This fall, we are loosely following the lectionary – the three-year cycle of texts that help us to explore the fullness of the scripture. Rather than just preaching on my favorite texts each week, the lectionary challenges us to think outside of our comfort zone.

But we also are building up to our Stewardship Sunday at the end of this month, and as we organized the texts and the themes, we wanted to ask the question – Are you able to support the ministry of others? Are you able to invest in the work of your fellow siblings in Christ – even if you don’t always do things the same way? Are you able to encourage people you disagree with?

I still want to preach that sermon.

But I admit that it is harder to preach today than it was a month ago or a year ago.

And that is because what we see all around us, in both the church and our larger political landscape and indeed in our world, is a whole lot of us vs. them mentality.

I was sitting at an event in Chicago two weeks ago with other members of the General Conference delegation from our jurisdiction. And there is this particular person with whom I have a very difficult time finding any common ground. They weren’t even sitting at the table with me, but I could see them across the room and every single time they caught my attention, I could feel my anxiety rise. My heart beat faster. My chest clenched up a bit.

I realized that I see this person as my enemy.

We are on the same team.

We both love the United Methodist Church.

And yet everything we believe appears to be so diametrically opposed… and not only that, but I feel like their position actually harms people I love within the church.

I don’t want them to win.

And I don’t know what to do about that and how it is impacting my own soul.

Politics is the social life that we share together and we have witnessed our political discourse crumble to pieces.

In these past few weeks, anyone who has tried to say something about what is happening in our nation, particularly around the Supreme Court – for or against it – is immediately swarmed by people who both criticize their position and criticize them for not going far enough.

We are so entrenched that we cannot even see clearly.

The red side and the blue side are enemies and the slightest mention of anything political and you can watch a room fill with tension as people discern when to engage and how in order to be victorious.

But, friends, there simply have not been any winners in these political battles.

We have all lost.

As we have been following the gospel of Mark this fall, we come to a moment of struggle for the disciples. They have worked so closely with Jesus and even though they don’t always get it completely right, they understand who their tribe is.

To use a sports metaphor, Jesus is the coach and they can point to the other eleven players.

They know who their teammates are.

But as our pericope begins, the disciple John tells Jesus about how he and some other disciples noticed these other people who were doing ministry in his name. Specifically, they were casting out demons, something that the disciples themselves had just failed to do successfully a few verses earlier.

What was their very first response to encountering these people?

Resentment. Hostility.

They tried to stop them.

If they aren’t part of our team, our tribe, we have to shut them down.

Into our tribalism and partisanship, into our entrenchment and division, Christ speaks.

From the message translation:

“No one can use my name to do something good and powerful, and in the next breath cut me down. If he’s not an enemy, he’s an ally. Why, anyone by just giving you a cup of water in my name is on our side.”

Whoever is not against us is for us.

Those are really hard words to hear when you feel like you are on the battlefield.

They are hard words to hear when you consider someone your enemy.

They are especially hard words to hear when you look at the actions or the policies or the attitudes of someone and you actually believe that they will harm you or people you love or things you care about.

And maybe that is why I have struggled so much with this text this week.

Because there are bigger issues out there in the world than simply accepting or encouraging the ministry of someone who sets up communion a different way that I do.

I think our division is so intense because we believe there are issues of life and death, holiness and faithfulness, justice and covenant, on the line as a result of the direction we take… from either side.

But I wonder if what Jesus is really calling us to in this passage is a different way of engaging those battles.

What if instead of seeing those on the other side of the aisle or the other side of the church or in another part of this world as enemies, we saw them first as allies.

Jesus says that you demonstrate you are on his side by giving others a cup of water, giving the hungry food, clothing the naked, comforting the mourning.

Not by destroying those with whom you disagree.

If we continue just a bit farther in this chapter, Jesus talks about how if your hand or foot or eye causes you to stumble, cut it off. And then he reminds us that everyone will go through a refining fire sooner or later… and we need to consider how our actions demonstrate our faithfulness.

I think Jesus is calling us to get busy doing good, to worry about our own actions and our own failings, and to let God sort out the rest.

I got to thinking about my friend, Doug, as I thought about this work.

Doug was a Missouri Synod Lutheran pastor in the community that I first served in Marengo.

While we are both Christian, our two traditions have very different understandings of communion, ordination, and the place of women in the church.

The very first time I met Doug, I admit I had a lot of anxiety.

This was a person whose faith taught him that I couldn’t and shouldn’t be a pastor.

Everything in my being was preparing for an argument or to figure out a way to defend myself and my personhood. I had already drawn lines in the sand. I had already thought of him as a potential enemy.

Do you know what Doug wanted to talk about?

He wanted to ask if I would be willing to join him and some other pastors for breakfast every Wednesday morning to talk about the lectionary.

He didn’t see my as an opponent or someone he had to convince, but as an ally, a colleague, a friend.

He was offering me a cup of water…. Or coffee in this instance, in the name of Christ.

He was doing ministry in Jesus’ name.

And he recognized that I was doing the same.

We shared breakfast every Wednesday morning for four years.

And when we are invited to this table, we are called to set aside our weapons and our armor and to see people we believed to be enemies as brothers and sisters.

We will not agree.

We will not do things the same.

We might even believe that the actions of another person might harm our witness or people we love and care about.

But if we engage one another in love…

If we greet them in the name of Christ…

If we offer them a cup of water…

If we open ourselves to allow them to do the same for us…

Then at the very least we are preserving that place in our own souls that dies a little bit every time we consider someone to be our enemy.

Once we allow someone to sit with us at the table and break bread and share a meal, we discover that there are new ways to have a conversation about our differences.

We find there are good things that we can do together in Christ’s name.

And we have a chance to build the kind of trust and relationship that will allow us to truly hold one another accountable for our actions. We will finally have the authority and respect in one another’s life to call out actions that are done in the name of Christ that harms the body. And we can do so in love, with compassion, trusting and knowing that we are on the same team and that if our sister or brother is calling us to account it is because they want what is best for not only our own soul, but for the church and the world that we share.

So are you able to invite someone you disagree with to the table?

Are you able to point out the good things they do in Christ’s name?

Are you able to encourage them and love them so that one day you can both hold one another accountable?

May it be so.

The Wealth in our Wallets instead of the Well-being of the World

Posted on June 1, 2017Leave a comment

This afternoon I watched the United States join two nations… Syria and Nicaragua… in being the only three nations in the entire world that are no longer signers of the Paris Climate Accord.

As I listened to the justifications, what I heard over and over again was the mention of a few economic sectors that will be impacted negatively and are disadvantaged because we are choosing to prioritize a different future for the world. Our President spoke about a drastic and unfair “redistribution of wealth” through the International Green Fund and how instead we need to put America First. His focus is solely on the wealth and wallets of the few, instead of the well-being of the many.

Well, if we are really going to put Americans first, perhaps we should think about all of these ways that Americans will be impacted if we do not make drastic changes to halt climate change. The link is the official report of the National Climate Assessment and includes data from thirteen different U.S. government agencies. The impacts include health, agriculture, energy, coastal migration, extreme weather, and are broken down by sector, region, and show the risks if we do nothing.

One of the most disheartening aspects of the argument to withdraw is that we need to stop worrying about other people and focus only on ourselves and what is best for ourselves. And yet, as I understand the Christian faith and my calling to live our the love of Jesus Christ in the world, my duty is to love my neighbor and to set free the oppressed and to care more for the well-being of others than I do myself. Even if we stick with the idea that we, as Americans, are leaders in protecting the environment, the thought that we can just take care of ourselves without helping to bring others along doesn’t even find a home in scripture. For as Jesus teaches the disciples in the gospel of Luke, we have been given this world as a gift and we are called to be its stewards. “Much will be demanded from everyone who has been given much, and from the one who has been entrusted with much, even more will be asked.” (Luke 12:48)

In this chapter filled with parables, we are called to remember the worth of even the sparrows, to guard ourselves against all greed, to sell our possessions and give to those in need, and to make wallets that won’t wear out. And then, ironically, Jesus lifts up the fact that the crowds “know how to interpret conditions on earth and in the sky” (12:56). We know when its going to rain or when a heat wave is coming. Except, it appears that our government can’t see the conditions on the earth and in the sky. We refuse to acknowledge our impact on the world around us. We are willing to put our own personal gain above the well-being of the world.

“Where your treasure is, there your heart will be too.” – Luke 12:34

Lord, have mercy on us.

The Hope of the World is Us

Posted on May 31, 2017Leave a comment

The President of the United States is currently weighing whether or not to withdraw our nation from the Paris climate accord. Political leaders within our country are skeptical about the science behind climate change and its causes. One congressman said this past week: “As a Christian, I believe that there is a creator in God who is much bigger than us. And I’m confident that, if there’s a real problem, he can take care of it.”

I’m a Christian, too. And I think God has placed this problem squarely in our laps.

For the last five or six months I have been blogging fairly infrequently, because I’ve been working hard to put into words why it is important for people of faith to care about what is happening to our planet. My new book, All Earth Is Waiting, will come out this fall along with a daily devotional for the season of Advent. I’ve spent countless hours pouring over the scriptures and asking how we are called to live as disciples of Jesus Christ in the world today.

One of the primary scriptures for the book is from Paul’s letter to the Romans. In chapter 8, we find these words:

The whole creation waits breathless with anticipation for the revelation of God’s sons and daughters. Creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice – it was the choice of the one who subjected it – but in the hope that the creation itself will be set free from slavery to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of God’s children.

The earth is waiting for us to let go of our selfish ways and begin acting like the children of God. It is waiting for us to hold in our hearts a vision of an interconnected world and to remember that every part of this planet tells of God’s goodness. It is waiting for us to see the sacred worth of the elements, the flora, and the fauna; to live gently as stewards and protectors. The life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ is the source of our hope and it has and will transform our lives. But once it does, we are supposed to truly live as God’s children. Paul reminds us in this passage the world is waiting for us. Only then will creation be set free.

Sermon on the Mount: The Golden Rule

Posted on February 19, 2017Leave a comment

My sister-in-law has been staying with us all week while she completed a training here in Des Moines for her work place. It was really nice to come home in the evenings and to be with not only my husband, but both of his siblings every evening. We relaxed, had nice meals together, caught up on what was going on in each other’s lives and played a lot of cards.

One of our go-to games is pinochle. You play the game with a deck made up of only 9’s through Aces, but we play with four of every single card. There is a bid phase, a meld phase, and then a playing phase. It’s kind of a complicated game, but once you get the hang of it, it goes fairly quickly.

Like any card game, there are endless variations on the rules. And the thing about pinochle is that whenever we play at my sister-in-law’s house, we play with a different set of rules than when we play at their dad’s house. In one case, a four of a kind can earn you anywhere from 40-100 points, and in the other, it’s worth absolutely nothing. When I looked down at my hand about halfway through the game and saw four Kings of Hearts, I suddenly wished that we were playing at her house instead.

But, the house rules prevail.

A couple of weeks ago as we gathered here to explore the Sermon on the Mount, we talked about the laws of the Hebrew Scriptures, as explained by Jesus. He took some of those well-known laws from the Ten Commandments and actually made them harder… in the end, reminding us that our aim is to be perfect, to be complete in our love. Jesus puts his own spin or variation on them.

Now, the difference between a rule and a law is hard to distinguish. Laws are official, because they are created and enforced by the political structure of the time – whether it is a democracy, like the United States today, or a theocracy, like the early Jewish monarchy and they have official consequences. But rules, are standards of behavior that guide our actions and tend to be dictated by the community or environment or home that you are in. There are consequences for rules, too, but they tend to be less severe – like a loss of privilege or opportunity.

In the case of a card game, you could think about the law being the standard way a game is played. In the game we were play, for example, a Queen of Spades and a Jack of Diamonds is a what is known as a pinochle and that is same everywhere you play the game. But the variations, the house rules, vary and tell you a little bit about what that particular community values about the game itself.

Much of the Sermon on the Mount is made up of these “house rules.” Jesus describes for us how it is that we play this game of life as people who are part of the Kingdom of God. He lays out the variations that are going to guide our life and our relationships if we want to be part of this community. These aren’t formal laws with defined consequences, but rather describe the standards that we should aspire to embody if we are going to be part of God’s Kingdom.

And the section of the sermon that we focus on this morning is no different. When it comes to relationships, when it comes to how we live together in community, Jesus lifts up this idea of reciprocal relationship… that you should give what you want to get.

He talks about this in terms of judgment: Don’t judge so you won’t be judged.

He talks about it in terms of seeking: That just as you expect to get the things you need from your earthly parent, so your heavenly parent will give you good things.

And he talks about this in how we treat one another in general: Do unto others what you would have them do unto you.

Now, Christianity isn’t the only community to have ever expressed this rule.

In the Hindu faith we hear: This is the sum of duty: do naught to others which if done to thee would cause thee pain. (The Mahabharata)

In Buddhism: Hurt not others with that which pains yourself. (Udana-Varga)

Islam teaches: No one of you is a believer until he desires for his brother that which he desires for himself. (Hadith)

Confucius says: What you do not want others to do to you, do not do to others.

And as a contemporary of Jesus, Seneca taught: Treat your inferiors as you would be treated by your betters.

What is interesting is that in many of these other cultural and religious expressions of this idea, the rule is usually expressed in the negative. Don’t treat others how you wouldn’t want to be treated. It is about refraining and restraint. And the section on judgment certainly fits that kind of characteristic when it encourages us to not point out the specks in our neighbors eye – to refrain from judging. But Jesus also expresses this rule in the positive light – Treat others the way you want to be treated. As MacDonald and Farstad write in their commentary on this passage, Jesus “goes beyond passive restraint to active benevolence. Christianity is not simply a matter of abstinence from sin; it is positive goodness.” (Believer’s Bible Commentary: Old and New Testaments).

The Golden Rules that Jesus give us are proactive. They invite us to take a situation and to pour God’s mercy, love, and grace into every aspect. We should look upon every encounter with others and ask in every circumstance – how would I want to be treated in the midst of this. And then, we are supposed to do it. Not just think about it, but do it! William Barclay notes that this law invites us to go out of our way to help others, and it is something that “only love can compel us to do. The attitude which says, ‘I must do no harm to people,’ is quite different from the attitude which says, ‘I must do my best to help people.’” (The Gospel of Matthew: Volume 1)

And Jesus calls us to do our best to love all people, whether or not they deserve it.

Think about even the “law of retaliation” that comes earlier in chapter 5 of Matthew’s gospel. Jesus reminds us that the reciprocal nature of our relationships in the past has been about an eye for an eye. We give back what we have been given. But Jesus challenges us to be proactive in our love… that if we are slapped on one cheek, to turn the other to them as well. If we are sued for our shirt, we should give them our coat also. In many ways, we are being asked to love first and ask questions later!

The world that we live in today is starkly divided. There is a lot of pain and disagreement and conflict that is not only reflected in national politics, but it often takes its root in our homes and families and churches, too. When I was in Chicago a few weeks ago, one of my colleagues shared that their family has cancelled their annual reunion because they have such differing political views they can’t be in the same room together any longer. Our larger United Methodist Church is so divided about whether and how we will welcome people of varying sexual orientations that we are in a season of deep discernment about if we can even remain a united church and what it might look like if we did. I experience this in my own family, too.

And maybe that is why a commentary piece from foxnews.com really hit home with me. The author describes how she and her husband find a way to live together in the midst of their disagreements and I’ll share the article to our church facebook page if you are interested in reading it. What struck me about the piece, and why I share it today, is that it lifts up that you have to start with love. You have to start with the Golden Rule. You have to start in a place of generosity and mercy and kindness, treating those who radically disagree with you with the same respect and graciousness that you would hope to receive back.

Jennifer Dukes Lee calls us to resist trying to be right and to not judge others by putting them in boxes. She calls us to think before we speak and to ask if what we say is True, Helpful, Inspiring, Necessary, and Kind. And she tells us that when we truly live in these ways, when we let love define what we do, that we can show the world that it is possible to live in the midst of diversity, if we put others first. (http://www.foxnews.com/opinion/2017/02/16/trump-or-never-trump-what-to-do-when-cant-agree-with-people-love.html)

In this season of our national and state and home life, we need to remember the house rules that define who we are as people of faith. The rule of love and compassion. The rule that invites us to put others first. The rule that leads us to treat any person we meet the way we would want to be treated… whether they deserve it or not.

The Sermon on the Mount: Lord’s Prayer Lessons

Posted on February 12, 2017Leave a comment

This morning in worship, we built our entire service around the Lord’s Prayer, using songs and brief meditations to help us focus on the various parts of the prayer itself. Below are the three meditations:

Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be they name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven…

That little tiny phrase is one of the most subversive and radical things that we can say as Christian people. And we say it every week. Too often, we rush over the words, practically tripping over them to get to the end, because we know the Lord’s Prayer so well.

For the last two thousand years, Christians have tried to let God use them to bring about glimpses of the Kingdom on this earth. If we are going to be daring enough to pray for the kingdom to come on earth – then let us also be daring enough to participate when we see it!

In, “Listening to your Life,” (page 304), Fred Beuchner writes:

“…the Kingdom of God in the sense of holiness, goodness, beauty is as close as breathing and is crying out to be born within ourselves and within the world; …[it] is what all of us hunger for above all other things even when we don’t know its name or realize that it’s what we’re starving to death for. The Kingdom of God is where our best dreams come from and our truest prayers. We glimpse it at those moments when we find ourselves being better than we are and wiser than we know… The Kingdom of God is where we belong. It is home, and whether we realize it or not, I think we are all of us homesick for it.”

We are homesick for it and yet it is as close as our next breath. Thy Kingdom come on earth.

Thy Kingdom, Oh Holy Lord, come on this earth and pull us beyond the borders we have artificially made.

Thy Kingdom, Oh Lord and King, come on this earth and root all of our actions in the care of your creation.

Thy Kingdom, Blessed Ruler, come on earth and let us find the boldness to feed and clothe and heal our brothers and sisters without waiting for the government to help.

Thy Kingdom, Glorious King, come on earth and make us uncomfortable. Don’t let us be content with peace in our hearts until your peace truly reigns over the nations.

Thy Kingdom, Ancient of Days, come on earth and turn our allegiance from brand names and politicians and flags and nations … but help us imagine and embody life on earth, here and now, as though you were truly the king of it all and the rulers of this world were not.

Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.

I want to tell you a story about a church here in Iowa that took seriously Jesus’ prayer and the command to forgive. (from Becoming Jesus’ Prayer)

Farmers Chapel UMC, “was burned to the ground by an arsonist. In the weeks and months that followed, the congregation had to wrestle with how to forgive the person who destroyed their 107-year-old church…. [so, their pastor] wrote an open letter to the unknown arsonist and had it printed in the local newspaper…” (page 37-38)

He wrote: “Our worship time is 9:00AM every Sunday. I tell you this because I want you to know that you are invited. In fact, we even plan to reserve a seat just for you. Our faith has a lot to say about forgiveness. Every Sunday we ask God to forgive our sins but only as we have forgiven those who have sinned against us. That would be you. So if you would join us for worship, we could practice this kind of forgiveness face to face. I say “practice” for a reason. I don’t expect us to get it right the first or even the second time. Of course we’ll continue to work to forgive you even if you decline our invitation to worship. Forgiveness is the cornerstone of the faith we have inherited. Some people think it is impossible. They may be right. I only know that we have to try. Our forgiveness of you is tied to God’s forgiveness of us. We can’t receive something we are not willing to give others. So you see, if we harbor hatred for you in our hearts, we harbor the smoldering ashes of your arson. If we cling to bitterness, we fan the embers of your violent act. If we fantasize about revenge, we rekindle a destructive flame that will consume us. Forgiveness may indeed be impossible, but for us it is not optional.” (as printed in Becoming Jesus’ Prayer)

That church has been rebuilt and at the focal point of their worship space is a cross that has been built out of the charred timbers of their old building. Every single time that Body of Christ comes together, they are a living witness to the power of forgiveness. And when we pray Jesus’ prayer – when we truly pray it – we are asking… no we are begging for our lives to be changed. We are asking for this church to be transformed and for it to be a place of transformation.

Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

All throughout the gospels, Jesus shows us what it means to be delivered from evil.

He teaches about the ways that we should follow and does so with authority and power.

And when the demons show up, questioning his wisdom, he casts them out.

Ofelia Ortega writes that “the forces of evil know of the healing power of Jesus’ word; they are not submissive or indifferent. Jesus’ powerful teaching not only is fresh to the ears of the faithful, but it also disrupts the undisturbed presence of evil. Evil discovers that it is running its course.” (Feasting on the Word, Year B, Volume 1, page 312)

All Jesus had to do was speak, and the evil powers of the world started shaking in their boots.

“Be silent.” Jesus commanded. “Come out.” He said firmly. And the spirit obeyed.

I don’t know what to tell all of you about evil, demons and spirits. I have never personally experienced them, although I know people who have. What I can tell you is that I firmly believe that God has power over the evil in this world.

The reign of God… the Kingdom of God is at hand. And when we pray the Lord’s Prayer, it is a personal prayer and we are talking about God’s authority and power within us. We are praying for God to help us tap into that amazing power that the people witnessed within the synagogue. We are praying not only to be cleansed of our own internal demons – but we are also praying for the power to love others who have their own internal demons.

A Cherokee elder was teaching his children about life.

A fight is going on inside me,” he said to them. “It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil – he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.” He continued, “The other is good – he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you – and inside every other person, too.”

The grandchildren thought about it and after a minute one of them asked, “Which wolf will win?” The elder simply replied, “The one you feed.”

Every time we pray this prayer, we are feeding the wolf of love in our lives. We are asking God to help us to be imitators of Christ, to be ones who can truly praise God as our King.