transition – Salvaged Faith

The Wilderness: Learning to Lean on the Lord

Posted on March 17, 2019Leave a comment

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When he was ready.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because days were not enough time.

Years were not enough time.

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

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

Right now, the wilderness is calling out to us.

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

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

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

Did Jesus want to be in the wilderness?

Did he want to spend forty days wrestling with Satan?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Time flies when you are surrounded by cardboard

Posted on October 15, 20121 Comment

Six weeeks ago: I said yes to my Bishop and began hunting for a place to live.

Five weeks ago: I announced to my congregation that I was accepting the invitation to a new adventure in ministry.

Four weeks ago: we began to pack and say goodbye and let things go one by one.

Three weeks ago: I found myself in Nashville for training for my new position with Imagine No Malaria at UMCom.

Two weeks ago: Frantically handing over ministries and leaving instructions, I find myself down for the count with the worst sinus infection I’ve ever had and I start my new job.

One week ago: I said good-bye to my church family and began to transition to the next with new colleagues and new phone numbers and new emails and new everything.

Today: I’m sitting in our new home, directing conference calls, settling in, and starting a very different life for a short stretch of time.

I tried blogging through some of the chaos near the beginning, but then I didn’t have the time I needed to really process all of the change. I knew I needed to, but I kind of bottled it all up and have bits and pieces of thoughts saved as private posts here and there. As I get the time to look back through them, I’ll see if there is anything “salveageable” in them.

I think for today, however, the best metaphor for what my life has been in the past few weeks is to think about my kitty cats.

My cats Tiki and Turbo are shy. They are extremely loveable and very nice, but they are introverts. They don’t do well around people and would prefer to hide under the bed… at least for a few hours or until people have left.

They have traveled and spent time in other houses before. Mostly my brother-in-laws house, where they spent most of our two week vacation hiding behind a chair where they thought no one could see them.

As soon as we arrived in the new place, we put them in the laundry room where they could have some space, but wouldn’t have to see all of the people moving all of the stuff.

The problem was, they didn’t want to come out when the chaos was over. We found them hiding behind the dryer, huddled together, just hoping that no one would see them.

As my husband and I eventually dragged them out of their little cozy corner (who am I kidding, it wasn’t cozy – it was dark and dusty and a little dank, too), they were tramautized. Hearts pounding, heads bobbing back and forth, not sure of what to do or where to run and hide.

I carefully cradled one cat, Brandon the other, and we showed them the house. We took them through every room and set them lovingly on their familiar pieces of furniture. And the whole time, their heads bobbed and weaved, sniffing and smelling, trying to take it all in, overwhelmed by the differences and yet the familiarity. It was dizzying to watch them… and yet I knew how they felt.

So many things have changed in the last few weeks, and yet so many things have remained the same. It’s like the world is upside down, but it’s the same world. It’s not better… it’s definitely not worse… it’s just disorienting. I’m still craning my neck and peeking around corners and “sniffing” out what all this new life entails. I’m still unsure, and yet starting to get situated, excited, full of anticipation.

I knew the cats would be fine when Turbo hopped into bed with us last night and found “his spot” right between our pillows. And even though Tiki never made it up the stairs to our master suite the night before, he found his own way and pounced on our feet… right on schedule as the sun started to rise. They seem to be enjoying new places to run and hide, new adventures around every corner… and yet they also seem to be a little bit more cuddly and cozy – wanting to be closer than before.

Change makes you think about what is really necessary and what is really important. It brings your life into focus. It makes you want to be cozier with the ones you love and cherish the home you have. It has been a whirlwind of a month, and we are still surrounded by cardboard… but everything is finally starting to settle into place. Tiki just used all of the boxes as an opportunity to leapfrog from one pile to the next and perch a top the highest one so he could survey his new territory. I feel like even in the chaos, I’m on top of the world, enjoying the view, and ready to tackle anything.

Assumptions

Posted on September 18, 20121 Comment

I remember vividly a leadership event when I was in middle school. Well, I vividly remember two things about it. First – we were at Kirkwood Community College and we got to eat in their awesome cafeteria and drink Clearly Canadian sparkling water. For some reason, that was a big deal 😉 Second, there was a message that stuck with me. It was about assumptions and our leader told us that when you assume, you make an “ass” out of “u” and “me.”

The book of James has an awful lot to say about when we open our mouths and what we choose to let slip out of it. And as I have been listening this week, I have realized that assumptions do just as much damage as a hurtful word.

When we make an assumption, we have spoken without all of the facts. And that means that we have not taken the time to truly listen to another person. We have not spent the time with them and asked questions about them or the situation. We have placed ourselves in a position where we believe we have all the information we need… a position of arrogance and, likewise, judgment that the other person or situation is not worthy of investigation and time.

When we make an assumption, we have allowed our wants and desires and impulses to rule the conversation without taking the time to pray and seek God’s counsel. We react with positive or negative gut reactions, rather than looking beyond ourselves to a larger context and environment. When we make an assumption, we have not done the difficult work of weighing how a person or situation will impact not only a local climate, but also a global climate or the Kingdom of God.

I write all of this, because these past two weeks have been awash in assumptions. I confess that I have made assumptions about how others would react to news of my position that did not always place me in a position to respond pastorally. There have been assumptions made at various levels of the connection about timing, ease of transition, and the rippling impact of change. But others have also made assumptions about what I will or won’t be doing, the process of how the position came to be and how/why I was asked, and what the impact on the church will be.

Assumptions hurt. There has been damage along the way and there are misconceptions to clear up and healing that needs to happen… and it won’t be immediate. The truth is, the answers to some of those questions are still unclear. Other assumptions might have a foothold in reality, but either the assumptions don’t have the whole story or stretch something out of proportion.

Today, I begin my training for my work with Imagine No Malaria. From what I know already, the bulk of my work will be communicating the importance of the mission, training and empowering and developing lay and clergy across the state to embrace the mission and to give generously, but above all, telling the good news that lives are being saved and that we are doing God’s work. I will travel, have a lot of one-on-one meetings, and spend a good chunk of time with databases and reporting. Some of those things might themselves be assumptions. I am trying to let go of those ideas I hold in my mind so that I can be open and learn as much as possible about what my life will look like over the next nine months.

And I want to invite you, when I get back, to ask me lots of questions. Open your mind and let us explore together with God what is in store for all of us.

Cold front

Posted on September 12, 20123 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

celebrations and transitions

Posted on February 19, 2009Leave a comment

This Sunday is when we celebrate the Transfiguration and after five weeks of exploration on the Lord’s Prayer – I am more than ready for something new in worship.

I have been thinking a lot about what the Transfiguration symbolizes for the life of the church. Besides simply being a remembrance of the event witnessed by the disciples, besides being an affirmation that the law and the prophets were fully behind the ministry of the Son of God, the Transfiguration comes at an important juncture in Mark and in important juncture in the church year.

In Mark, Jesus is setting his face towards Jerusalem. Life as it was for the disciples would never be the same. And in many ways, we too are setting our faces towards Jerusalem as we enter the season of Lent.

But I think that the Transfiguration also serves as a transition point in which we need to remember where we have been and let that be seen in the light of God’s glory, but then set it behind us and move forward. The disciples got the glory part, but they wanted to enshrine the moment, build tabernacles, and stay in that moment. We need to take a moment to sit in the glory of what we have accomplished, but then let it go and realize that our journey has only just begun.

So that idea of celebrating a moment and then moving on is really in the back of my mind.

In our congregation, we have a lot to celebrate. We just had a hugely successful dinner to raise money for our youth ministry. We gave money to many valuable missions in the last year. We increased our involvement in worship and other activities. And the thing that amazed me, we paid our apportionments 100% for the first time in years.

But we can’t say – oh, well, we accomplished that, look how great we were, and be done. We have to keep working. We have to keep seeing what changes need to be made. We have to keep following the guidance of the spirit. And that means coming down off of the mountain top, rolling up our sleeves, and getting to work.