home is where the paint is

For the past two weeks, instead of going home to a nice cup of tea or curling up with a good book after all my work for the day is done, I have been scraping. And priming. And painting. Two weeks ago I entered the world of homeownership, with all of its excitements and its headaches.

As I tore off old wall paper (the previous tenants seemed to enjoy putting wallpaper over wallpaper and then several coats of paint on top of that), I kept thinking that I should be having more profound thoughts than “this is disgusting” and “wallpaper should be illegal.” Alas my brain was firmly in the moment, in what needed to be done now and what needed to be done right after that.

Sunday afternoon I finished my process. No more painting and no more scraping – now the moving fun begins. But before that begins I have a moment. A moment to take a deep breath and look around. I have a house with fresh coats of paint, with my personal touch on it. And I have this house because of friends. Friends who found the house for me, guided me through the process, came to fix my gutters and paint my walls. Friends who wished me well and offered me helpful suggestions and loving thoughts. Friends who I call brothers and sisters in Christ, friends who are all members of Covenant.

Here’s where the profound thought enters in. This house is like everything else in life, stressful at times and joyful at times, but made so much better by the presence of a faith community. My life is so enriched because of this faith community – not just because some of you can paint walls or bake delicious pies for the working crew – and now my home will forever serve as a reminder of that blessing.

Coming Home

It's the last night here at Montreat. The kiddos are staying up late, playing card games, writing notes to our senior, enjoying one another's company... I'm all snuggled in bed, seeing as how I'm one of the drivers tomorrow.

It has been a truly blessed week. The worship has been phenomenal - many of us wept more than once during services. I'm coming away with a lot of things but one thing that's ringing in my head right now is something we heard in tonight's sermon. We are the ones we have been waiting for. It began as a Hopi saying and was most recently the title of a book by Alice Walker... what a great thought. It's not someone else who will bring the changes we long for, who will guide us to God's righteousness... it's us. We are the ones we have been waiting for. We are the ones who are called to live for and through God. Not other people. Us.

I know our youth have really been touched this week - I've seen the Spirit moving among and within them. I am so proud and honored to have spent this week with this bunch. Our church is so blessed and I don't think we can say that enough.

Montreat Update

Hey friends!

I've managed to swing some wireless access here in the mountains and thought I'd take a moment to let you all know Covenant has arrived safe and sound at Montreat and we're already having a blast!

The theme this year is "Turning the Page," about how our life is a story, one that is connected to both God and God's people. The leadership is great -- a friend and former prof of mine is preaching and really bringing the Word.

Our house is filled with lots of laughter and games, great food, and great discussions. The Holy Spirit is definitely present among us. This is going to be a wonderful week!

an anniversary

From Amy’s Ethiopia Journal, July 2, 2006: A final thought—this was a mountain top experience (literally sometimes). I have been to Africa before, I have seen generosity and poverty before, but I have never experienced anything like Ethiopia and her people. God is doing wonderful things across the ocean. I’m honored and excited that our church gets to be a part of that.

A year ago today Jeff and Jennifer Ryman, Liz Dahmus, and I left Addis Ababa to return home to the States. We had such great hopes for our congregation’s relationship with the gracious people we met and the inspiring ministry we witnessed. I am both proud and humbled by the way this congregation has embraced the Bedele Congregation and our other brothers and sisters in Ethiopia.

When we went to Ethiopia our team truly saw ourselves as representatives of this congregation, of each of you. I am moved that when we returned, this congregation affirmed that view. I am moved by seeing so many of you moved by the stories the Ethiopian Partnership team brought back

We have truly committed ourselves to our partnership. I appreciate the way we pray for Bedele every Sunday, but also the way I know Bedele is in many of your personal prayers. I love that we committed to helping the congregation finish their building even as we added on to ours. I marvel that our Ethiopian partnership has become such a part of our church life that Ethiopian coffee is a best seller amid our Free-Trade coffee!

It has been a year and already we have embraced this relationship with such fervor. I can’t wait to see what another year brings.

Wa-Hoo!

Oh my aching bones.

You may think I kid, but I promise, I don't. After three nights of being "Rowdy" and, yes, living up to the character's name, my back and knees may just about give out on me. I think I'll be giving this Sunday's sermon from a hospital bed we'll just have to roll up onto the chancel! Running around, jumping about, dancing like a crazy person -- all in the name of good ole VBS fun. It has been quite fun, I must admit, even with the aching bones. These kids, somewhere around 60 or so, have been shouting and singing and dancing and then actually calming down and sharing parts of their faith with one another. Beautiful, it really is.

And I suppose if my achy breaky back is one of the prices I have to pay to be a witness to such a joyous thing, I'll just keep on anteing up.

Revelation

Confession time. Up until my last year of seminary when I finally took the intro course to New Testament (I like to do things a little out of order!) I had not read all of the Bible. Why? Because I had skipped heavily sections of Revelation. I'd read the beginning and the end, but the middle with all that apocalyptic imagery was not for me.

And then my friend Teri and I read the book together, out loud, with sound effects. That was the beginning of something for me. I've come, over the last two years, to really enjoy this book. Yes, some of the imagery is not my general cup of tea (beasts and whores of babylon and all that), but I have been able to read in and through that imagery to see God's glory shining. This book is full of beautiful confessions of faith, statements about who God is, visions of what the kingdom of God come will be like... And while I'm not inclined to like the battle imagery, it is true, for the kingdom of God to come here on earth will take a lot of sweat, tears, and perhaps even blood. We've seen it all ready - in those small moments where the kingdom breaks through. And in Revelation you have this wonderful promise that yes there will be battles (figurative or literal) and it will see like it lasts forever, but God and God's kingdom will win out. What a lovely, lovely narrative to live into.

it's here!

Last August Bev R. asked me to contribute a chapter to a book she and Peter were editting on Angels and Demons... well, months later, the book is now in my hands.

It's a fun feeling, reading what you wrote in print. It's also interesting because as I read I think "oh, I would switch that word order" or "hee, that's a funny line." Nothing like being frustrated and humored by your own work which you can't change a single word or puncuation mark too any more.

If some of you are so inclined, you can check out the book at InterVaristy Press's site. Don't think you can order it from amazon yet.

Just wanted to share a little excitement with all of you. Blessings!

What's Love Got To Do With It?

Texts: Psalm 8, Romans 5:1-5

Last week John compared the birth of the church with the birth of a child, talking about all the preparation, the waiting, and then when the birth comes – what a wonderful, miraculous event.

What a scary event too. My friends who have recently had their first child have all said something similar – that it’s not so much the moment the child is put into your hands that it all sinks in, but the moment they discharge you and you realize, you don’t have a call button at home that will bring a nurse running to your room if you don’t know what to do. You don’t have a team of highly trained professionals to make sure you’re doing everything right.

You do have this wonderful, miraculous, gift, this child that has been entrusted into your care by God, and you, YOU are responsible. Not the nurses, not your friends, not your parents. You. You have to make sure this child eats, sleeps, poops, gets its requisite “tummy time,” and then, when it gets older, that your child does her homework, learns good values, comes to church, plays nice with others…

You’re responsible for all of this. You who don’t have a degree in child development or who have a tough time keeping plants alive, or who still forget to pay bills on time.

I’m not a parent myself but my own heart starts thumping extra hard just thinking about all this awesome responsibility. Because you don’t have to be a parent to know how both wonderful and frightening this power can be. Most of us have been entrusted at one point in time with some sort of responsibility – maybe your parents let you stay home by yourself while they’re out of town, trusting that you’ll take care of the pets and the house AND that you won’t through a wild shindig; maybe you’ve been made leader of a team at work, in charge of a huge project that could either save or sink the company. It’s exciting but also can be terrifying. What if I mess up? What if I don’t do the right thing? What if I don’t know what to do?

We all know what it is to be responsible, or at least to be called to be responsible – to be entrusted with something important. As individuals, we each have our own responsibilities, and as a community, as the church, as the body of Christ, we’ve been given even more. When the church was born, when God gave us the gift of the Spirit, it was a wonderful, miraculous event. It was also, is still also, pretty scary. Tongues of fire, power beyond anything we’ve known, and a call as God’s people we are called to do soooo much. To preach the word, to live the word, to love God and God’s people.

As we have been gifted with the Spirit, we have also been entrusted with life. Each and every one of us, even those of us who are not parents. For God has entrusted us with precious and fragile life, given us human beings dominion over this earth. The work of God’s own hands – we are responsible for it.

The psalmist speaks of our majestic Lord, our Lord who has created the universe with all its protons and neutrons that somehow make life, with its mystery and majesty, with its brilliance and beauty we can hardly begin to appreciate or understand, this Lord has created us, us human beings, to be just a little lower than God. The Lord whose glory is above the heavens has crowned us with that glory and honor.

How wonderful, how thrilling, and how terrifying. For the Lord who has created us just a little lower than Godself has given us both this honor and this responsibility. For as those so blessed by God we are also those so charged by God – we are those who have been given dominion over the works of God’s hands – beasts of the field, birds of the sky, creatures in the sea… all of them, all of this creation. God has created this amazing world and all that reside in it, and created it and gone and given it into our care.

The psalmist looks around at this world and is so in awe of what he sees that he is moved to ask “What are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them?” We might look around at God’s magnificent world and add a few of our own questions. “What are human beings that you entrust them with your creation? What are human beings that you given them such awesome responsibility and no call button to bring the creation nurses running in if we don’t know what to do?”

God has put us in charge of this beautiful creation. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but we human beings… we’re not angels. We may be a little lower than God but that “a little lower” is pretty significant. We wage war, we abuse our power, we fear those who are not like us, we push away those who disagree with us, we take our toys and go home when we’re upset – and all of us, each and every one of us, even those we fear, we don’t like, all of us have been entrusted with God’s creation.

Talk about a challenging committee to work with… I doubt if we gather a random selection of 10 people in this sanctuary we’d find an agreement on how we can best take care of the creation God has entrusted to us. What’s the likelihood that we could agree on what to do with issues like toxic waste, water pollution, recycling, animal testing, loss of green space, genetic engineering, addiction to oil, and what about this climate change stuff? Can we even agree what the issues are?

Look at what happens with a child. You can one to four parents and step-parents involved in raising the child. Plus grandparents. Plus aunts and uncles. Plus well-meaning friends, pastors, neighbors, teachers, even strangers. All of these people offering their own opinion on how best to raise this one child.

Look at what happens with this creation. You have 6 billion plus people who have a say, an opinion, some certainly with louder voices than others… 6 billion of us, all who are affected by the health of this world, all who have a stake in the condition of this creation. 6 billion of us and still. does any one of us know completely what should be done? Would we even be able to hear that voice amid the clamoring of all the others?

Who are humans that the Lord is mindful of us, that the Lord has entrusted us with the work of God’s own hands? Who are we? We are part of God’s creation. And we are the body of Christ, the church, whose birth we celebrated last Sunday. But what does that mean? Our Romans text this morning has gives us a brief, but very helpful and hopeful, glimpse of what it is to be the body of Christ, God’s children and creation.

In a sentence only Yoda could truly appreciate, Paul tells us that we know “suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us.”

We are a people, who, even when we suffer, even when we suffer the folly of our own mistakes, or other’s mistakes, even when we suffer the pain of strife and division, even when we suffer the agony of indecision and uncertainty, we have hope… hope which does not disappoint us. Hope which comes from the Lord. Why do we have this hope? Because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.

Don’t let yourselves be deceived. God’s love isn’t just some sweet sentiment, isn’t just the bringer of the peace Paul talks about. God’s love is a powerful, transforming, persistent love. This love is power and possibility beyond our imagination. For this love is God, is at the heart of God, God who is majestic above all else.

Today on our church calendar is Trinity Sunday. If you went to churches throughout our area, you might hear a few sermons or more trying to explain the mystery that is the Trinity. Well, I’m not going to do that – as John Wesley said, Bring me a worm that can comprehend a man, and then I will show you a man that can comprehend the triune God!" Don’t know about you, but I haven’t found that worm yet. The Trinity is a beautiful mystery, a way in which we express the glory that is God, Father, Son, Holy Spirit, Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer, the One Who Was, Who Is, Who Is to Come. Another such triune expression comes from Augustine, who calls the Trinity, Lover, Beloved, Love, saying that Love binds the Trinity together. What this particular metaphor is saying is that love is in God, love abounds within God, love is the essence in which our Triune God moves and works, love is binding, and it is a powerful force, stronger than any other force out there.

It is this love which gives us our hope. For within each one of us, God’s love has been poured through the Holy Spirit. God’s love. God’s powerful, self-giving, just, reconciling love – this is what we have been given. God’s love we know fully, incarnate, in the person of Jesus Christ. This love is in each and every one of our hearts and it is this love which will guide our actions, this love which will help us as we take on the responsibilities God has given us.

When it comes to taking care of our world, I can’t speak with any authority on the science of what should be done, the exact tactics, practices, what really is an environmental concern and what’s not… I leave that to those much more knowledgeable than me. What I do know is that God has given us dominion over the earth, birds and the beasts, the fishes and the flying things, over it all. We are caretakers of this world and as God has appointed us such, we must live out our role as God would have us. Live it out in love.

We can – and should – debate amongst ourselves what are the best things to do for this world, God’s world, this world put under our loving care, our just dominion. We should debate and raise questions, challenge even common assumptions. But as we are debating and questioning, we must have God’s love in our heart, this gift of the Spirit. Whatever we do, we must do through God’s love. For if this love is what binds our Triune God together, then perhaps, if we debate and question and challenge one another in this love, it will bind us together as well.

We have been made a little lower than God. God who is Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer… We, we humans cannot create as God creates, and we cannot redeem as Christ has redeemed us, but we can, thanks to the Spirit which pours God’s awesome love into our hearts, we can help with the work of the Spirit. We can help to sustain this beautiful creation so that for generations to come others will look at the work of God’s hands and be in awe. Amen.

haunting words

Not this Sunday (Pentecost) but the next, I'm preaching. That particular Sunday happens to be Trinity Sunday - a Sunday we set aside to praise the glory of God who is triune just a little bit more than your average Sunday.

All fine and good, EXCEPT, certain words keep ringing in my ears. "The worst sermons are always preached on Trinity Sunday" - so sayth one of my preaching profs from Columbia. Sheesh. Talk about not hoping to live up to expectations.

saving a meadow, losing my hand

It's been 3 days now since I was part of the group that "saved" the Big Meadow on Skyline Drive. Great event, by the by, hope we can do it again. But it's been 3 days and my hand is STILL cramped from all the weeding. John says that just means I need to do more weeding, get that "exercise" in or something. I think it means I need to find a massage therapist!

Contemplative Youth Ministry

I just finished (yes, it's taken me forever) Mark Yaconelli's Contemplative Youth Ministry. This book really spoke to me. Faith isn't just fun or dogma, it's an ongoing relationship. Leaders aren't program directors or instructors, they're more like spiritual directors, pointing to the presence of God. They're seekers, mentors. The program isn't what matters, the ways of prayer aren't what matter - what God is doing, that's what matters.

I highly recommend this book to all -- all those working with youth, all those who have teenagers, all those who want a fresh and spirit-filled perspective on ministry.

Hurricane Katrina Relief Trip

I never knew I’d become an expert in mud. At the very least, mudding seams in drywall. Now I can add that talent to my skill set list! It’s amazing what you can learn when you take yourself out of your context—your comfort zone—extending yourself for others. 11 Covenant members and twelve Mary Baldwin students discovered just this when we traveled to Gulfport, Mississippi to join the Presbyterian Disaster Assistance camp and crew there.

While in Gulfport we lived in “pods” – which are basically slightly fancy cardboard box huts. We ate together, prayed together, and most importantly worked together. Our team was divided into three different groups – one assigned to roofing, one to inside carpentry, and one—mine—to drywalling. The Covenant members and Mary Baldwin students bonded as we built (ask Charlie Huppuch about being called “Grandpa Charlie”) and we had wonderful opportunities to get to know those who lived in these affected areas—especially our home owners.

The coastline, while much cleaner than it was a year ago, is still devastated. As we worked hard we couldn’t help but be aware how much more hard work would be needed before this community found itself back to something called “normal.” May we continue to offer prayers and presence to the Gulf Coast

With the Morning

Texts: Psalm 30, Acts 9:1-6


“It’s been a week.”

I’ve been hearing that expression quite a bit these last few days – sometimes with a choice adjective or two added. I’ve added a few myself when talking with friends and family.

Even more than the usual, I had thought this week was going to be a full one – but not the way it has turned out. I don’t know what your plans included but mine had me driving the 1000 plus miles to Atlanta and back, while there doing research and meeting with professors, spending time with old friends, eating out at as many warmly remembered places as possible. A full week indeed. Most of our weeks generally are – full. When you ask people Sunday to Sunday what they’ve done that week, very rarely do you ever hear “nothing, absolutely nothing.” We pack our weeks in with work, school, soccer, ballet, meetings, movies, church, chores… Sometimes there’s a birthday or a big test, a promotion or party, something to make the week more memorable. If you’re lucky, maybe some of those weeks are vacation.

Weeks of work, weeks of school, weeks of vacation… This is the normal – full—pattern of our lives. And then there are weeks like this one. A week that completely disrupts our pattern, disorients us. A week that both speeds by and drags out, a week where you find yourself at a loss for words, where the question “how’s it going” or “how are you doing” cannot be answered with the customary and oft expected “fine.”

How do you begin to explain a week like this? How do you even begin to process someone falling ill at the end of the week and dying on Sunday? Someone so young, someone so full of life? As this community joined the LeBontes in grieving the loss of Vicki, daughter, friend, colleague, teacher, we have been forced to face these challenging questions.

And that was just the beginning of the week.

I still can’t wrap my mind around how and why someone could be so lost, so aching inside, so absorbed by darkness that mass murder would be… an option? Is that even a way to describe what was going on in that young man’s mind? How do you describe the thoughts that led to such action – led to one child of God, one human being made in God’s image, to distort that image so senselessly, to darken any light inside and “randomly” harm other children of God? Questions like these, questions we will probably never be able to answer, these are all we’re left with..

And then…

Even when you know it’s coming, have a general timetable when it will happen, death always catches you by surprise. Many of us said goodbye to a dear friend this Wednesday; ached with and for Mary Beth’s family, wondered why her, wondered why now.

It’s weeks like these that make you wonder, make you rail, make you thankful for the small blessings, the moments of miracles… make you angry, make you ache. That make you think about your loss, about the pain and suffering close to you, and then, perhaps, think about all those suffering throughout this world – this week alone we mourn the 183 souls lost to 4 bombs in Iraq on Wednesday, the 50 lost to election-related violence in Nigeria, the at least 190 killed in Somalia, the nameless who passed each day this week without anyone to tell their story… So much pain, so much suffering, such a week.

It’s weeks like these that psalmist could have easily been writing about.

Our psalmist tells of when he was as those who had gone down to the Pit – was in, well, hell. Life had been good, there had been prosperity, there had been favor. The psalmist had looked out from his mountain, from his penthouse apartment, and said “my life is good. And it’s just going to keep on being good! Ain’t nothing going to change my world.”

And then, the psalmist had a week of his own. What exactly happened, we don’t know. What we do know is that this once happy, confident, too confident perhaps, person is no longer up on some mountaintop of prosperity and fortune – he is in the Pit. He is in Sheol—the place of the dead. This person once full of life had a time of his own that has brought him down to death.

Though once his world had been filled with light, though he had never doubted his security, joy has turned to sorrow. Not only that, but he has felt as though God had hid God’s face from him – that God isn’t just hard to reach but has gone in hiding. How many of us have been there? Have wondered where our help and hope could be? Life in Christ is not a promise for unending joy, not a promise for uninterrupted bliss and good fortune. It’s not unwavering faith and unbending confidence in God’s presence and providence. No, anyone who tells you that is selling something – and it’s not the gospel.

Those who have experienced the pain of loss who have known agony, suffering, those who have found themselves wondering where is God from time to time, maybe more times than not, can understand what the psalmist means when he says God’s face is hidden from him. Understand what it feels like when you long for God yet cannot find or feel the divine presence. Understand what it feels like to be brought down so low, feel so lost, so alone, that you just can’t take it anymore.

In this extreme agony, frustration, even anger, the psalmist doesn’t throw his hands up and reject God, doesn’t turn away from struggle that is life, doesn’t take his pain out on those around him – he cries out to God for help.

His cry isn’t a soft plea, a quiet prayer – it’s a scream, a roar, a rage! “Hear, O LORD, and be gracious to me! O LORD, be my helper!”

This is the plea of a desperate man, a despairing man. It is also the plea of a man who knows the truth, who knows what it is God can do – will do. He cries out to God for help because he knows, even when he wonders where God is, that though times of weeping have come, do come, will come, it will pass. God’s favor is what lasts forever. Yes, there is weeping, but God turns weeping to joy. Yes, there is mourning, but God will set our feet to dancing. Yes there is death, but even in Sheol – the place of the dead – God is there, lifting up.

When we fall to the Pit, when our nights our filled with weeping, God does not let us stay there. God lifts us up. God transforms what was terrible something we may call good. Our story from Acts is just one reminder of what God does in our life, in our world. Saul, Saul was not a good man. He persecuted, zealously, even to the point of murder, something which this week seems terribly, terribly awful. He was doing what he thought he had to do. And as he was on his way to commit more horrendous acts – a bright light stopped him, blinded him, changed him. A light he knew as the Lord, even before he knew to call the Lord Jesus Christ. And from that moment, that moment of light, a new life dawned, a new Saul was born. What once was a persecutor became the persecuted; what once was death-bringing promoted new life; what once was Saul became Paul.

God has a way of it… Has a way of transforming what was terrible to something new, different, and yes, even good. Of bringing hope where there was once none. Of helping us move from weeping to joy. Saul knows it. The psalmist knows it. Even in – no especially in – times such as this past week, we should know it.

If there is anything we followers of Christ, whose Resurrection we celebrate each and every Sunday, should know – know even if we don’t understand it – is the power of God, the promise of God. We don’t have to understand how or even when, but we may know, believe, that even in the midst of all this agony, God is at work. God is weeping, God is consoling, God is raging against the senseless loss of life. God is in the bright blue sky that makes you catch your breath in wonder. God is in the memory of a lost loved one that bubbles up, causing you to laugh and cry at the same time. God is in the arms of those who surround you, in your arms that surround the ones you love. God is.

The psalmist called out to the Lord and as the morning came—perhaps hours later, perhaps days, perhaps months, perhaps more—as the morning came, the Lord drew him up, healed him, restored him to life. No matter what changes he faced—loss of loved ones, loss of health, loss of prosperity, even loss of life—nothing changed the truth that God is there, with him, with us. Nothing can change that. Nothing.

Though there are shadows that haunt our earthly days, the Lord is shining, bringing us the light of life. God is, not even death on a cross could change that. This is our truth. This is what we know. That even in death there is life. This is the Resurrection. This is our Easter Reality. That even when the mark of death mars the face of our days, we may find healing and wholeness, we may find Life in our Lord. Life that in Christ is life eternal. God is, therefore we are. The darkness and death we know here is not the end, is not the ultimate. God is greater than any darkness, any death. Weeping may linger in the night, but in God, joy comes with the morning. In God, life is the ultimate. In God, there is no end. May our souls praise the Lord and not be silent. For the power and promise of life, may we give thanks to the Lord, forever. Amen.

sadness

"We just really knew him as the question mark kid."

This quote describing the relationship between Monday's gunman and his peers has troubled me in particular.

I was driving from Staunton to Atlanta when this was happening--drove by the Blacksburg exit with police cars whizzing by, not realizing what was going on--and have only today gotten to really inform myself on what happened yesterday at VT.

I ache. I think that's probably the best way to describe what I'm feeling at the moment. Ache for those who were killed, those injured physically, those injured emotionally, their families, the community, God. I ache that our Creator would watch as one of those made in the divine image would so distort that image. I ache that this young man somehow was known best as the "question mark kid," that he wouldn't or didn't know how to let people in, that people didn't know or wouldn't try to "get in."

I ache. I ache to be Christ's servant to the best of my ability, to minister to all those I meet so that should a question mark kid come across my path, I will been open to the Spirit so that God could use me to offer love. I'm in Atlanta in part to work on our own youth ministry, to strengthen what our community offers our kids. And I think, did this question mark kid have people like our kids do? Wonderful, warm, caring adults and families that will not let them slip through the cracks, not let them go unknown? Do we, with our warm and caring families, do even we have a kid who is a question mark, one we do not know, don't know how to know?

I ache and I pray. It's all I know to do.

yet another quiz

Yet another quiz, this one picked up from my mom's friend Ryan's blog.

Which Church Father Are You? I quite like it!

You’re St. Justin Martyr! You have a positive and hopeful attitude toward the world. You think that nature, history, and even the pagan philosophers were often guided by God in preparation for the Advent of the Christ. You find “seeds of the Word” in unexpected places. You’re patient and willing to explain the faith to unbelievers. Find out which Church Father you are at The Way of the Fathers!

Youth Sunday

Batten down the hatches! This Sunday our Senior High Youth are taking over! All that energy, all that joy for the Lord—will we ever be the same? Covenant has been blessed with a group of young people and young-at-heart leaders who truly enjoy one another, this congregation, and the God that calls us all together. Our youth have talked a lot this year about wonder—about seeing this wonderful world God as created with open eyes and hearts, with a simple love and joy that sometimes gets lost the older we get. This Sunday, the youth are going to help lead us back to that love, that joy, that sense of wonder.

When I look around God’s creation, I find myself in awe and wonder at the most random things. Sometimes I’m moved by the way a person helps out another; sometimes I’m brought to tears just watching my cats take care of one another (yes, my cats). Every time I’m brought to that place where all the world’s problems and harsh realities sift away for just one moment, one moment where the goodness of God’s world is so evident, I am thankful. As we look forward to a wonderful Sunday filled with wonder and worship, I encourage you to think about the moments you find yourself filled with that reverent awe, that unabashed joy, that sense of wonder.

what am I? apparently...

I've done a lot of "what religion/theology are you" internet quizzes over the years (what can I say, ADD much), and found this one posted by Katherine at any day a beautiful change particularly interesting.

You scored as Neo orthodox. You are neo-orthodox. You reject the human-centredness and scepticism of liberal theology, but neither do you go to the other extreme and make the Bible the central issue for faith. You believe that Christ is God's most important revelation to humanity, and the Trinity is hugely important in your theology. The Bible is also important because it points us to the revelation of Christ. You are influenced by Karl Barth and P T Forsyth. Neo orthodox 75% Emergent/Postmodern 68% Roman Catholic 64% Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan 61% Classical Liberal 54% Charismatic/Pentecostal 43% Reformed Evangelical 36% Modern Liberal 36% Fundamentalist 4% What's your theological worldview? created with QuizFarm.com

christians in palestine

My friend Teri posted this on her blog and I thought I'd bring it over here. Given John's sermon yesterday, this seems particularly poignant.

"Ahead of Easter" - report from Palestinian Christian NGOs

"We are about to welcome the Easter season after forty days of fasting. To us, Easter is a reminder of the suffering, crucifixion, and most importantly, the resurrection of Jesus. In our Land, traditional celebrations have been taking place for centuries, such as the processions of local communities, scouts, participating in Palm Sunday, and Saturday of the Holy Fire celebrations from the Church of the Holy Sepulcher.

"Processions and traditional celebrations are governed by the Status Quo over the course of many years. Such celebrations have been taking placed uninterrupted. However, in the last few years the Occupation authorities are impeding the celebrations, especially the Saturday of the Holy Fire celebrations of the Orthodox Church. The Occupation authorities are preventing worshipers from reaching the Church of the Holy Sepulcher or celebrating in the yard on the roof top of the Church, and are preventing the traditional joyful celebration march and the procession of the banners.

"Easter celebrations are hostage to the whims of the Occupation authorities, as part of policies that are racist and that aim to push Christians to immigrate. The Occupation authorities are imposing strict restrictions on the movement of Christians during Easter week, and are preventing Christians from reaching the churches, and are adopting a policy that prevents Palestinian Christians from other parts of the West Bank from reaching Jerusalem to celebrate Easter. Also, barriers are put near the gates of the old city of Jerusalem, especially in the area leading to the Christian quarter, Herod’s Gate, and the roads leading to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in order to deny worshipers their right to pray freely. A new phenomena now, is the huge presence of Israeli police inside the Church of the Holy Sepulcher with their weapons, which violates the sanctity of the Church and religious traditions.

"Therefore, we, members of the Christian community in Jerusalem, are calling upon our fellow Christians around the world, and the Heads of Churches as well, to put an end to Israeli violations of our right to worship freely in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, so that Christians will be able to enter the Church to pray."


Source: Palestinian Christian NGOs, 20 March. 2007

Hee

I was going through pictures on the 'puter to pick some for print... came across this which just cracked me up. My sister Beth and my friend Lisa hamming it up at Williamsburg.

Ah, tea...

I heard from some friends the other day about this new place downtown, the Tea Bazaar. Today my ministry assistant and I went to drink some tea while we worked on an upcoming worship service. Oh, how wonderful it was! It's located on the first floor of the Stonewall Jackson Building, right across from Trinity. The inside is open and airy, with such a simple and relaxing ambiance. Along with various teas, they also offer simple international foods, the specials changing from day to day. We ordered two pots of Masala Chai and sat down at a "traditional" table - a raised area where we had to take off our shoes, sat on cushions on top of a bamboo mat, with a glass table that sat on top of what looked like an upside down stew pot. It was perfect! We both had more than enough tea (next time, we're sharing a pot) and enjoyed the atmosphere as we worked. It's one of those places that just makes you take a deep breath and smile, contented.

Here's to Staunton and its ever evolving downtown!

Come and Fill

Texts: Isaiah 55:1-9; 1 Corinthians 10:1-17

For everything there is a season. Of all the church liturgical seasons, Lent is my favorite. No jingle bells, no presents, no hidden eggs filled candy, no commercialism. Just good, old fashion reflecting, repenting, and reconciling. It’s nice to have this time set aside for such important part of our life with Christ. While we’re supposed to be forsaking our wicked ways and returning to the Lord all year round, talk about this in our life together, live this way as individuals and as a community – it doesn’t always happen that way. And that’s understandable – God is so big, so vast, that it can be a challenge to keep on the forefront of our minds and hearts ALL we’re supposed to be doing in our relationship with God. So we have these liturgical seasons which help us remember various parts of our faith and relationship with God. We have Advent when we celebrate Christ’s coming, past, present, and future; we have Pentecost where we celebrate the gift of the Spirit and all that means for our life together. We have Lent, where we focus on righting our relationship with God and with God’s people.

Not that we’re don’t forsake the wicked and return to God during the rest of the year. At least, we’re supposed to. The sad truth of it is, during the rest of the year we don’t get as much repenting in as we probably should. Yes, every Sunday we pray a prayer of confession – a Presbyterian standard – in recognition that we do need to repent. For many of us, we see that time as a wonderful opportunity for serious reflection. For others of us, maybe not. While the prayer has meaning for me now, I know when I was a teenager sitting in the pews, during that time I’d mostly look ahead in the bulletin, seeing what hymns we’d be singing, glad when the confession was short. While it’s important that we pray for forgiveness in our live together, this time of repentance and reconciliation can unfortunately feel rote.

Aside from this corporate prayer of confession, we have other moments we come to God in prayer. Some of us have time we set aside for prayer with God – those first waking moments of the morning, the last sleepy beats of the evening. Maybe when driving to work or while cooking dinner. For others of us, those moments that inspire us to confession, when we want to draw extra close to God are more impromptu – that extra bumpy plane ride, perhaps; the big project coming up; waiting for test results.

Lent has traditionally been about this reconciliation, coming to God, coming clean, in order that we might be prepared (as we ever can be) for the glory of the Resurrection. While some of us may be able to prepare without the reminder, without time set apart, others of us find time set aside, time made sacred, helpful… needed.

Part of the Lenten season is practices which cue us in, so that we can’t forget what it is we are supposed to be doing. Practices which remind us who it is we should turn to, who it is truly fills us with the best food. While we Presbyterians aren’t known for our observances of Lent – I’ve heard “um, oh yeah, it’s Lent isn’t it” from several wonderful Presbyterian lips – observing Lent is a part of our heritage. Perhaps one of the best known of these practices, disciplines as they are called (and they do take discipline), is giving things up for Lent.

How many of you have ever given something up? How many of you have ever tried and not been as successful as you’d like? Discipline. During Lent, Christians traditionally fast from things – be those things goods, pleasures, vices.

Like Jesus in the desert, we may fast from material objects (such as bread), or if we’re really ambitious, perhaps we’ll fast from power or maybe proving our authority over others – all things Jesus resisted in his 40 days and nights.

Why do we fast from things? Some think fasting has to do with suffering – I can’t have chocolate, I suffer… oh, hey, Jesus suffered for me. I should be thankful and repenting or something. Or maybe fasting is about endurance, proving you love God and want right relationship by holding out. That’s not exactly it either.

Listen to the beautiful words of Isaiah; echoing the calls of street sellers of the day, the prophets says: “Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and you that have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen carefully to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food.”

This is what we are called to – rich food, good food – not fasting to suffer or endure. The fasting going on, the giving up, it’s about something richer than that. Christ fasted after he heard his call in a powerful way, in the waters of baptism. From this moment on, fasting became connected with baptism, with this welcome into the community of faith, with this beginning of the journey.

Saul, soon to be Paul, finds himself following Jesus’ footsteps after his conversion on the road to Damascus. For three days he was without sight and neither ate nor drank. The believer Ananias arrives and lays hands on Saul, restoring his sight. Only then is he baptized, and only then does he take food. After this time of fasting – from food and from sight – Saul was ready to begin his journey with and for Christ.

The benefit of fasting before such a big event in a follower’s life was appreciated by the early church. The Didache, an early Christian text recommended a two-day fast prior to baptism. Fasting before baptism shifted into fasting to prepare for another momentous event in the Christians. Beginning in the 2nd century, believers observed a two-day fast prior to Easter (what would later be called Good Friday and Holy Saturday). Somewhere around the 4th century, the Lenten fast evolved, moved from the two days and just those to be baptized, to 40 days and to the whole church. Fasting also became a common practice around other times of the year, and almost universally Christians gave up food or drink before receiving communion.

This fasting, this giving something up, is about preparation. Preparation for ministry, for the journey of faith, for the cross and empty tomb. Preparation for Christ – for the freedom and the call found within him, for the bounty, the feast he sets before us, for the one cup, one bread. We prepare for this feast when we practice the discipline of fasting, from food or other things. And we need to prepare. We need to prepare because we get so easily distracted from the meal set before us.

You’re out at the grocery store, maybe picking up a gallon of milk on your way home, and you know that waiting for you at home is a wonderful meal, tasty AND nutritious. Standing in the check out line, gallon of milk in hand, you glance over to your right and see all the candy options the grocery store has so conveniently laid out before you. Your stomach growls, your eyes light up, and before you know it, you’ve added some Reese’s Cups to your order. Sure, you’ve got a good dinner waiting for you at home – but this is here, and now, and before you know it, you’ve ruined your dinner just like your mother always warned you about.

This is what Paul was speaking to in his letter to the Corinthians – well, not the Reese’s or your mother part. Paul understands that all over God’s world and God’s time, God’s people were feeding on Christ’s word, grace, mercy, and love. He writes of when the Israelites were given manna and water from a rock (who he identifies as Christ) in the desert. This real food the Israelites were provided by God was enough to sustain them. Though this food was from God, though they were feasting on gifts from heaven, the people complained, they longed for other food. They looked at something that wasn’t what would truly fill them up, wasn’t what their inner most parts longed for, and craved. As Paul identifies, this food isn’t just about physical nourishment – this real food is also spiritual food.

The Israelites craved other food, craved evil, craved that which was not from God, that which was not God. When the Israelites sat down and ate, they were eating the food of idols. When the Israelites craved meat, the food of Egypt, the food of slavery, food of death, they were rejecting the food of the wilderness, the food of freedom, of life, of God. They were craving more than God, other than God.

Paul lists example after example of when the people turned to that which was other than God, longed for idols. So Paul warns us to learn a lesson from the Israelites, a lesson God has laid out for us: flee from worship of idols.

That’s what Lenten practices are about: fleeing from worship of idols, fleeing from that food which does not satisfy, fleeing and coming to the one who fills us with more than we could imagine. We fast to remind us where and what our best food is, how we are nourished.

Even though we may know a wonderful meal is waiting for us – this word, grace, mercy, love, we struggle to resist the meat of idols – they look as good as those Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. So we fast from that which is worldly, our worldly weakness so we may feast with Christ, on our heavenly strength.

We fast in order that we may feast. In this season of Lent, that’s what we are called to do. Our preparation for the GOOD NEWS is not fasting – it’s feasting! Feasting on the glory of Christ, eating at the table he has prepared. We are called to focus on our Lord, to incline our ear, to come and listen, and to do whatever we need to do to answer this call, to come buy milk and wine without money or price.

You don’t have to fast to feast. Some of us may find fasting from something – sugar, gossip, tv – whatever it may be – helps us to cleanse ourselves of all that which is not God, to repent and reconcile with our Savior. For others, giving something up – that may not be the preparation you need, especially if you find yourself saying “I’m giving up broccoli for Lent,” or my favorite, “I’m giving up giving up things.” Some many options – you don’t have to give something up, you can take something on. You can take on rising in the morning a few minutes early to offer prayer – there’s this wonderful prayer where as you wake up, you thank God for each part of you, your head, heart, limbs, your breath. You might try to read more of the Bible, perhaps follow the daily lectionary (how many of you knew we had a daily lectionary) which you can find on the PCUSA website. You might try allowing yourself to stop and look at the mountains as you drive from one place to another, instead of hurrying to your destination. Stop, look, and let your eyes feast on God’s glory made manifest, your heart filling with all richness.

What are you doing to prepare yourself for Lent? Good Friday? Easter? How are you prepared to live as an Easter people, a resurrection people? How are you feasting on God? We have this season, a season of reflection, repentance, reconciliation – don’t let it go by uncelebrated, don’t let yourself go hungry. Come, come to the waters, come, come to the table. Come and fill yourself with God’s glory, God’s love. Come and feast.

Seriously?

Not to go all Grey's Anatomy, but all I can say is "seriously." I've the last few months, I've had an interest in the emerging church movement (alternative worship in the uk and other places). Gearing worship for a post-modern world, these movements include more art, movement, multi-media, non-Biblical texts than our more traditional worship does. Some of the theory and theology is exciting to me (though some I can't subscribe to). One of the things I've enjoyed - and plan on using with our youth - is short animations and videos that are great coversation starters for various theological topics.

So this morning I went to a website that had been recommended as having lots of good resources like this. You have to subscribe to download stuff but searching is free. I get to the page and its featured video is called "Battleground" - about Jesus' temptations and our own. Okay, not my favorite metaphor in the world, but I kept on my mission to search for a video that would go with this particular point of theology - the Trinity. So, I search using the intrasearch engine, and come up with... nothing. Maybe I didn't do it right. Search again, a different way. Nothing. In the hundreds of videos/animations this company offers, not one of them deals with the Trinity, which according to a theology prof of mine, is what makes Christianity unique, what makes us us. Seriously? No resources on the Trinity? Just reminded me the problem I have with a lot of the post-modern material. While certainly not all resources, churches, etc, ignore the fundamentals of theological doctrine, many do. I'd love for the mainline denominations to show a little more foresight in these growing areas so I can find a cool animation on the Trinity no problem.

Patience

Today I flew back from Chicago to Virginia. And I say "today" because it took me all day. Got up at 6 something this morning, headed off to the airport a little before 7:30am, and then got promptly stuck in Chi-town traffic. My friend Teri who was driving me, wonderful woman, was not having a happy morning. We moved a couple miles over twenty minutes and I was beginning to rearrange my luggage so I could carry everything on board, check nothing. That didn't stress me out (well, when I realized I'd have to leave my hair stuff behind if I carried my bags on, I did get a bit annoyed). But, lo and behold, we made it in time for me to check my bag and make my merry way through security.

Only to find myself waiting... apparently, my flight was delayed 2 hrs and 45 minutes. Not that they announced that delay, or changed the departure status of the flight from "on-time" to "yeah, right." No, no, heaven forbid you let your passengers know what's going on; heaven forbid people looking at the clock that reads "9:30," knowing they should be taking off by now but hadn't heard anything, let alone boarded, would have a clue about what's going on. Also, heaven forbid you tell people WHY there's a delay - "is it a weather problem in Philly?" "uh, it's a problem here." What the gate agent doesn't say is that it's an airline computer problem, one that apparently has left lots of people stranded over the weekend.

I managed to get a new connecting flight out of Philly to Richmond, and went to eat lunch - for by this time, it was close to lunch time. Mid bit of tuna, I hear "all rows, all passengers, for Philidelphia." Ack! I jumped up, looked at the time (I should have had an hour and 15 mins to spare), quickly grabbed my stuff and got on the plane. Only to find someone sitting in my seat. Only to find I was on the wrong flight to Philly. Apparently, an earlier flight that had been displaced was heading out (with tons of empty seats). Why they didn't offer this flight to us later flight people, I don't know. But since I was already on (since I had already discovered this secret other flight!) they let me fly out on it. This flight was excitingly delayed when the computer problems that messed up boarding made trouble for the pilots - they couldn't seem to get the weight balance info from the computer. Joy!

Made it to Philly no problem (well, except for the wind shears that made me want to lose what little of the tuna sandwhich I had scarfed down). Got on the plane to Richmond - it looked like I'd make it by 5:30pm, too late for meetings at church but maybe I could make it home before it got dark. We got on the plane and sat... and sat... and sat... The pilot came on the speaker and said something to the effect of "Sorry folks for the delay, but the aft cargo door is open. I don't know why, don't know who's working on it, but we're trying to get it taken care of." Oh, such a vote of confidence. After 20 or so minutes, they managed to close the door and then of course 40 minutes later, we were off.

Landed in Richmond, YAY!, too late to drive back in the daylight - and with the dramamine I didn't want to drive in the dark - but I could get my bag, get my ride, get some more work done, and crash. One flaw in that plan - the airline had lost my bag. So here I sit, in my friend's pjs, with a newly bought toothbrush, hoping they find that piece of luggage - I have cute shoes in there!

And the amazing thing to me about this whole day - I actually stayed patient. Didn't get fiesty or ornery with a single one of the people who told me "delay. delay. lost luggage." Didn't stress out, panic something was going especially wrong. Nope, I was pretty calm and cool throughout the day. And this, my friends, I chalk up to that great vacation, that wonderful sabbath, the needed rest. Life's problems didn't bother me (and trust me, I'm not a good flyer, it scares me and anything out of the ordinary usually increases that anxiety). Nope, I was collected and mostly unphased. Yay! Lets see how long this lasts (aka, lets see how long it takes the airline to bring back my shoes, I mean, luggage).

In An Instant - A Review

While on my lovely vacation (which ends tomorrow) I picked up and read the Lee and Bob Woodruff book In An Instant: A Family's Journey of Love and Healing. I must say, it is one of the most heart-stirring and lifting books I've read in a very long time. The Woodruff family has a remarkable story about just what the title says, love and healing. Reading through the tragic injury of Bob (who was the new World News Tonight co-anchor for those who don't know), how his wife coped with the help of family and friends, how they made it through, are still making it through, reading that story mixed together with the story of Lee and Bob's marriage - really reminded me what this for better or for worse love is all about.

If you have a couple extra dollars and hours, I highly recommend.

what a vacation can do

I've been on vaca for a few days now, having a wonderful time. Doing nothing more rigorous than cooking for my friend Teri's African music class or reading a book at Barnes and Noble. This is what vacation is about - resting, enjoying the simple pleasures that you never seem to have time for in your busy life. As great as this time is, I feel like there should be more - more of this in my day to day life. Why is it true, good rest and renewal is so hard to find in the day to day? Why do I feel I have to get away to get some good Sabbath? I try to incorporate Sabbath into my daily life/routine. Can't say I'm entirely successful. Need to work on that, or not work as the case may be! The blog entry below this one was about a successful attempt at Sabbath - and it was so wondrous to me. I need to remember that - remember that checking work and life concerns at the door for a little bit is a good thing, not a selfish thing. Remember that Sabbath is something God calls me to, not time I'm hording from God. Just because I'm not "doing" doesn't mean I'm not being a good servant.

about town

Today is my day off - and for the first time in a while, I'm actually taking it off. I woke up deliciously late, enjoyed some snuggle time with my cats, ate breakfast/lunch and then went for a walk. I walked down Beverley, from my apartment to Newtown Baking and back. Along the way, I stopped in at Design at Nine, my fav shoe store, had a great chat about shoes and more with the owner, and then continued on my way. I stopped by the new Indian Grocery, had a lovely conversation with the woman there. We talked about Bollywood and family, cooking and foods. Apparently, she's going to be making take-away food on Saturdays - yum!

Even though the wind was blowing (and my ears were getting cold), I kept walking, stopping next at Local Color, the garden/art store. I picked up some flowers for one of our youth whose play I'm seeing tonight, mentioned I had a kid in a play to the woman... she looked at me and asked if the "kid" was mine. Ack! I love this darling but no way am I mother. Too young, people, too young! She wrapped up the flowers very prettily for me, though, so all is forgiven. I continued on my way with a bunch of tulips, one of heather, both wrapped in lovely brown paper and tied with a fun, organic curly string. I felt very European as I continued on my way to the bakery.

Didn't get anything at the bakery, just found out that the yummy chocolate croissants are available every morning (yay). On the way back from the bakery to my place, a car stopped, rolled down its windows, and a young man asked me, in a hurried tone, where a place to eat was. I noticed 3 other young people in the car, 2 women and another man. I asked what kind of food they were looking for. Response: "Food." I made my first suggestion of Pampered Palate; they took it and were off (I noticed the license plate was from New York - definite out-of-towners). It struck me as a I continued my walk back home how fortunate I am. I had a wonderful leisurely day (which I'm continuing even now at the infamous Coffee on the Corner). I had nice conversations with people - some I know, some I don't. I got to enjoy the beautiful blue sky, the crisp wind, the at-home feel I had as I walked down Beverley. I wasn't hurried, wasn't rushed, wasn't looking for "food," whatever was the quickest thing. I have time to enjoy, time to be. What a blessing.

My Soul

My friend Teri did this and so I followed suit. Somewhat accurate descriptor.

You Are a Newborn Soul

You are tolerant, accepting, and willing to give anyone a chance. On the flip side, you're easy to read and easily influenced by others. You have a fresh perspective on life, and you can be very creative. Noconformist and nontraditional, you've never met anyone who's like you. Inventive and artistic, you like to be a trendsetter. You have an upbeat spirit and you like almost everything. You make friends easily and often have long standing friendships. Implusive and trusting, you fall in love a little too easily. Souls you are most compatible with: Bright Star Soul and Dreaming Soul

What Kind of Soul Are You?

Ash Wednesday

Last night we had another Taize service to celebrate the start of Lent. The music was wonderful again - I sat up front by the musicians and could hear the congregation singing behind me. It was so powerful to feel the space filled with prayer to God in that way.

After the service, I went over to the labyrinth, took part in the meditation stations, had some wonderful prayer time. There's some so sacred about a time and space like that. There were about 12 other people in the space, all quiet, all reverent. It filled me with such a sense of wonder, awe, peace. I thought of all the people, across this earth, across time, who have come to God in prayer, all the communities, all the families.

A wonderful beginning to Lent.

Lost Cause

Texts: Jeremiah 17:5-10; Luke 6:17-26

Maybe it’s the snow still lingering on the ground, maybe it’s that my ministry assistant has been singing a few bars of other songs from this movie – whatever the reason, I have found myself humming Irving Berlin’s song made famous by Bing Crosby in the movie White Christmas. I respect all of you too much to singing it – I’m no Fred Holbrook. So just imagine a roaring fire, Rosemary Clooney sitting next to you, and Bing singing:

When I'm worried and I can't sleep

I count my blessings instead of sheep

And I fall asleep counting my blessings

When my bankroll is getting small

I think of when I had none at all

And I fall asleep counting my blessings

I think about a nursery and I picture curly heads

And one by one I count them as they slumber in their beds

If you're worried and you can't sleep

Just count your blessings instead of sheep

And you'll fall asleep counting your blessings

Such a lovely, sweet song, especially when Bing sings it. His words ring true for many of us – what a wonderful thought; in a sleepless night, when life’s problems are rolling through your mind and will not be silenced, to count your blessings – to think about your children, about how even if you have a little, you still HAVE. This song speaks of a sentiment that I hear all the time – say myself even. I’m blessed – blessed by my friends, my family, my calling, my good fortune to have a job that keeps a roof over my head, food on my plate, and my feet in cute shoes. I can fall asleep counting these blessings, fall asleep assured that I AM blessed, favored, happy.

If I want to fall asleep with those lovely thoughts in my head, I probably should avoid for my bedtime reading selections of Luke, including our passage from today. While we might wish Jesus would say “blessed, favored, happy are those who have curly heads to count in their nursery,” he doesn’t. In fact in a later section of Luke, Jesus speaks of woe to those who are with child or nursing children, because of the pains and distress to come in the time of the destruction of Jerusalem.

Nor does Jesus affirm the blessings of counting what you do have. He does not say “Blessed are those who enjoy what you have. He says “blessed, favored, are you who are poor.” Blessed are you who are hunger, who weep now, who are hated, excluded, reviled, DEFAMED! Those who have food, have riches, have LAUGHTER, have respect and favor of those around us – you are not blessed; you are burdened with woe.

Christ’s words don’t make much sense – at least not to those of us who speak about our loved ones, our comfortable situation in life, our JOY as blessings, as evidence that we are indeed blessed. When compared to the words of blessing and cursing of Jeremiah, Christ’s words appear more difficult to swallow. For at least this once, Jeremiah can be the prophet who bears the more palatable word.

Jeremiah does speak God’s word of woe, of cursing before he speaks of blessing, but it’s a woe and a cursing many of us can probably nod our heads to. Cursed are those who trust in mere mortals, and make mere flesh their strength. Sure, that sounds good. We can probably get on board with that.

The cursing, the woe, found in Jeremiah and other places in the Old Testament, unlike other contemporary cultures in the Near East, mostly revolve around God’s law. No idols before me, care for each other, love your God with all your heart, mind, spirit. Those who do not follow this law are cursed, know woe. So cursed indeed would be those who found their strength outside of God. Yes, they would be like a shrub in the desert, yes, they would not see relief when it comes because they weren’t focused on God.

And blessed – well blessed are those who trust in the Lord. Blessed are those whose trust IS the Lord. Yes, they shall be like a tree planted by water; they shall not fear or be anxious.

We can trust in the Lord, have our trust be the Lord, and be blessed, shown sign of divine favor. But why are those who are rich given woe, why are those who LAUGH told “woe?” Can’t we trust in the Lord AND be rich AND be fed AND be happy?

Jeremiah’s speech of God’s words continues. “The heart is devious above all else; it is perverse. Who can understand it? I the Lord test the mind and search the heart.”

Last week Fred treated you to a little Greek love; now it’s my turn to share some of the Hebrew joy. When Jeremiah says that the Lord tests the mind and searches the heart, he means that God looks in your inner most parts, the secret parts, the parts no one else knows, sees, could even begin to understand. The word we read as “mind” – KILYA – is literally translated as “kidney.” The Hebrew people considered the kidney to represent this inner most part of a person – why we don’t fully know. But it’s important for us to know it’s not just about our thoughts or our feelings or whatever WE might associate with the heart and mind. The Lord tests, searches, knows everything about us – things even we don’t know.

Part of what the Lord knows – even if we might like to deny it – is that the heart is devious. Another important Hebrew note – the word devious, AQOB, comes from the same root as the verb – AQAB- which means to take the heel, supplant – it is what God spoke of when cursing the serpent. The one who inspired humanity’s deviation from God’s law, the one who whispered that we need more than God gives, that we may not even need God, is the one who will forever be striking our heel, so sayth the Lord. And this, says the Lord in Jeremiah is like our heart.

Our hearts are perverse, ANASH. This word we read as perverse means sick, desperately ill, an incurable wound. Our hearts, God knows, lead us astray when they find their center, their meaning, their value, their favor, their blessing in that which is other than God. When our hearts – our inner most parts – lead us to putting our trust, our hope, our faith in mere mortals, mere flesh, mere things of our knowing and understanding.

This incurable wound is the one that whispers to us when we are in desolation, saying, the despair is overwhelming, you’ll never overcome it, you might as well give in, what have you got left? This desperate illness is the one that cripples us when we have lost that which we have called our blessings – our parents, our children, our lover, our friends, our job, our health, our home, our happiness. This sickness is the one that seeps into our veins, our pores, our inner and outer parts and tells us we can only trust in the tangible things – only be blessed, only believe if we can see that we are favored.

This perverse heart is what leads us to trusting in these signs of being blessed, trust in human comforts, human means; it is what inspires us to try and find contentment, happiness, wholeness outside of God and God’s truth. This perverse heart keeps thumping away to the beat of its lost cause.

It is this heart’s lost cause of finding blessing outside of God that makes the world a seemingly nonsensical place if we were to believe in it. For it is often when that which we have clung to as signs of our worth, our favor, is taken away from us – that job, that spouse, that cause, that praise – that we find our inner most parts, our hearts, kidneys, and minds, clear. No mere human values or mere human strength distracting us. When we are down, we lift our eyes and hearts up. And we find ourselves calling out to the one who has not left us, who we can trust in, should have trusted in.

It’s an odd but true fact – that during times of economic depression, church giving is up. When crisis hits communities, people flock to centers of faith. For many of us – though I know not for all – it is only when we are left with nothing that we realize all we need is in the Lord – is the Lord.

This is the reality to which Christ was speaking. We can distract ourselves with our own achievements, our own might, our own happiness, our own power so that we do not truly believe or trust in God. We do not believe we NEED God – we’re doing just fine on our own. And those who have nothing, who are poor, hunger, sorrowful, hated – they have nothing to distract them, nothing their heart can point to and say “this is all you need.” This is why when people come back from developing nations, have seen poverty and need beyond our comprehension, they speak not of despair and doubt but of joy and faith. For those who have no earthly blessings indeed often know the ultimate blessing. Those who find their meaning, their being, their living, laughing, loving in the Lord – these are the ones who are blessed. Truly blessed.

Blessed are they.

But for those of us who cannot count ourselves among the poor, or hunger or sorrowful or reviled, we are not without hope. Though we may be surrounded by that which distracts us, though our incurable wound, our inner parts which are as crafty as the serpent, may have much to say – we too may be those who are blessed for we trust in the Lord, for our trust is the Lord.

Before Jesus speaks words of blessing and woe, he does what he came to do. He heals. Jesus heals – heals the wound of poverty, sorrow, hunger, and hatred. Jesus heals the heart, those inner most parts, thoughts, which would strike us, hurt us. Though our heart may be devious, may be perverse, the Lord and only the Lord can understand it. And the Lord and only the Lord can heal us. For Jesus, there are no incurable wounds.

Blessed are those who poor, hunger, who weep now, who are hated, excluded, made outcast, on because they KNOW that God is their center, Christ their healer. Blessed are those who have nothing, no one, but God. For the reward is great – this kingdom life which comes from God.

And, blessed are those who are healed; blessed are those who KNOW they need to be healed; blessed are those who are rich, who are fed, who are filled with laughter and are loved – are all these things and more AND yet are not distracted by their own strength – wealth, health, and yes, even happiness. Blessed are those who know all comes from God, who know they need God, know that they will never be healed, be whole without God. Blessed are those who put their trust in the Lord, who know and live as though they are the Lord’s. Blessed are those whose trust is the Lord. Blessed are they. Blessed may we be. Amen.

Jeremiah Was A...

Texts: Jeremiah 1:4-10; Luke 4:21-30

Of all the prophets in either Testament, Jeremiah is the one with perhaps the most complicated reputation. Jeremiah’s reputation was so intriguing, so powerful, that some of Jesus’ time thought he was Jeremiah come back to them. There are many things we know, we think we know about Jeremiah.

Jeremiah was a child when he was called. The exchange we heard between God and Jeremiah took place when he was young, too young he claimed.
Jeremiah was a child not ready to take on the mantle of God’s word, not ready to tell his people about destroying or overthrowing.
Jeremiah was a child who had the Lord put words in his mouth, words which would later pain him if he did not speak them.
Jeremiah was a child who grew to a man who never become completely at ease with his call as prophet.
Jeremiah was a prophet who called the people to repentance, who warned of the foe from the north, who protested the broken covenant between the people and God.
Jeremiah was a man who carried this burden with few supporters, who became known as an introspective prophet, a weeping prophet, a broken-hearted prophet, a whining prophet, a judgment-bearing, yet small hope-offering prophet.
Jeremiah was a man who knew, who lived, the pain of a prophet’s call. He knew what it was to have to bring words of inevitable punishment, words which made him rather unpopular.
Jeremiah was persecuted, taunted, imprisoned, even put in a pit to die at one point.
Jeremiah was a man who bore a literal yoke for his people in an attempt to get the word of the Lord across to them.
Jeremiah was a man who suffered and he was not one to hold back on God – he let God know his aches and pains.
Jeremiah was self-described “man of strife and contention to the whole land.”
Jeremiah was a man who spoke God’s word and then saw that word fulfilled.
Jeremiah was a man who saw his city invaded, temple destroyed, people exiled.
Jeremiah was a refugee – leaving Jerusalem with other Israelites.
Jeremiah was a man who in all his pain, turned to God both in agony and in hope, in prayer.
But, of all of these, there is one thing Jeremiah is perhaps best known for, at least among this our generation:

Jeremiah was a bullfrog. He was a good friend of mine. I never understood a single word he said but I helped him drink his wine, and he always had a mighty fine wine. Joy to the world, all the boys and girls, joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea, joy to you and me.

Quite a silly song, yes, but one many of us know. One that whenever the topic of Jeremiah comes up, it seems inevitably someone sings to him or herself. Even though the Jeremiah of this song written by Hoyt Axton and made famous by Three Dog Night is really just one part of nonsensical lyrics, it strikes me that their Jeremiah sounds not too far off the mark from our Jeremiah.

In some ways, a bullfrog is exactly what a prophet is. Someone who speaks in a loud voice which carries over great distances, whose sound is so much bigger than he or she is. These prophetic bullfrogs are ones who carry the word of God – that word which is greater than anyone of us, which covers the face of the earth. These prophets aka bullfrogs are also those whose voice is that annoying sound that you can’t block out, but it’s so annoying you don’t listen to closely enough so that you can’t fully understand a single word.

We may like to think we listen to God’s prophets, God’s words, but let’s be honest. How many of us enjoy the sound of a bullfrog’s call? How many of us welcome words which challenge us, make us uncomfortable, even threaten our way of life? Who wants to hear the words of Jeremiah? Words of destruction, words of despair, all of which will come to be because you strayed from God’s truth. Who wants to hear: your practices mean nothing? You are worshiping idols? You have betrayed your God with your hatred, your prejudice, your privilege? Jeremiah’s listeners didn’t, at least not for the most part. Do we?

Few of us, I would think, want to hear the words of prophets – at least not those tough words. The things we’re comfortable with we’ll take, but the stuff that makes us squirm, no way.

Jesus experienced this when he was in his hometown of Nazareth. He went to the synagogue and was given the familiar words of Isaiah to read. He read a passage about social justice, good news to the poor, the year of the Lord’s favor – even said these words had been fulfilled in the people’s hearing. He spoke powerful words – but non-specific words, words from another prophet who often spoke of hope.

And the people’s response to this – well, they enjoyed this mighty fine verbal wine, just like the good folks at Canaan enjoyed his literal wine. Commented on how well he spoke, amazed at the “gracious” aka palatable words which came from his mouth. They respond “is not this Joseph’s son, how nice it is to see a kid from the neighborhood grow up to be so well spoken, so poised. Wonderful to see the son of Mary turn into such a well-mannered man.”

Jesus, I suppose, could have received these laurels with a smile, taken a bow, and gone about his way knowing he was so loved. But he does not. Instead, he speaks the words he must speak, words of warning, words which his audience will NOT, does NOT receive well, words which take him from nice hometown boy to a dangerous rabble-rouser. He told them that in time of sorrow, of widowhood and leprosy, God sent prophets, prophets who offered solace and healing to outsiders, not Israelites. Jesus told the people who knew themselves as chosen that, at least in sometimes, they were not. They were not the one’s in God’s favor, perhaps not the ones to receive the year of the Lord’s favor.

Jesus knew a prophet would not be accepted in his hometown, in the place where they had too many excuses, too many reasons not to listen to him. They knew him when he was a child, like Jeremiah was when he was called; they knew his family, his history, they knew he was one of them. What right did he have to say such words? Just because he’d garnered a reputation for being able to do a few tricks, because he had a nice speaking voice.

The people in the synagogue were so filled with rage that this hometown kid would presume to be this voice of God, to take such authority, that they drove him out of town. Not only that, but they wanted to throw Jesus, the man they knew since he was a boy, whose family they knew, throw him off a cliff! Murder him! His own people, his own community.

This is what it can mean to be a prophet. Prophets are those so connected to God, that it is God’s words in their mouths, God’s message on their tongues, God’s reality they see, God’s truth they promote. And as much as we may long for a cuddly and comfortable God, when we have strayed, when we have broken covenant, when we have sinned and show no sign of repentance, God can be anything but warm and cuddly. Walter Rauschenbusch, a man was a key figure in the Social Gospel movement at the turn of the century, said that prophets were people “so alive to God and felt God’s righteousness so overpoweringly that they beat their naked hands against jagged injustice and inhumanity. They were centers of religious unrest, creators of divine dissatisfaction, and the unsparing critics of all who oppressed and corrupted the people.” If prophets are the ones to speak God’s powerful, challenging word, it is no wonder Jeremiah suffered, no wonder Jesus’ hometown wanted him dead. Unrest, dissatisfaction, unsparing critics – nothing about these speaks of making friends.

The last few weeks in Kerygma, along with discussing the Gospel According to Mark, we have been engaging in an interesting discussion about prophets – specifically, do prophets still exist in our day? My response: a resounding yes. But who are these prophets, you might wonder, who are our Jeremiahs, Elijahs, Elishas, Annas, Ezekieals, Miriams, who are those among us who see God’s reality, God’s truth, and speak to it?

If we took a survey of who we thought of as contemporary prophets, I’d expect to hear several MLKJrs, a Gandhi or two, a few other religious and perhaps political figures. But I wonder how many of us would name people we actually know and how many of could think of more than a handful of prophets.

We wonder about where our modern day prophets are, where those who proclaim not a new word but the word anew may be. We wonder why the days of many prophets, days seen in both Testament times, before and after Christ, seem to have passed. Perhaps these days have not passed. The conditions of our world seem ripe enough to bear prophets – plenty of God’s word needing reiteration here and now. Perhaps, instead, the days of our recognition of prophets is what has passed.

In the text of gifts we read two weeks ago from 1 Corinthians, Paul speaks of prophecy as one of these gifts. As far back as the Old Testament, Moses expresses a wish that “all the Lord’s people were prophets, and that the Lord would put the spirit on them.” Well, God has put the Spirit on each of us. We could say that each of us may have moments of prophecy in us. While some of us may know prophecy as our main calling, each of us may come across moments where the word of the Lord is placed in our mouths, where we are called not to speak only words which will bring us acclaim, but words which will bring us scorn.

But such a call – who wants to be the one scorned, derided, thrown out of town, even harmed? No wonder we stop listening for it. No wonder we don’t like to recognize it in others.

Whether we are the ones who are supposed to listen, or the ones who are supposed to speak – we don’t pay much attention to the call of prophets. We, like Jeremiah make excuses about the prophet (be that prophet us or someone else) – too young, too uneducated, too liberal, too conservative, too much of an agenda. Or we, like those in Nazareth, let the person’s (even if that person is us) humanness keep us from seeing and hearing the prophet before us – that’s just Joseph’s son, we knew him when he was a mischievous young boy, we knew her when she ran around with the wrong crowd, you know he’s divorced, she’s gay; I’ve got a history, a past, baggage…

None of these excuses stopped Jeremiah from his work, nor Jesus. None of them should stop us. We must listen. Listen for both the call of God to us AND the word of God for us. For no matter who may be speaking it, the word of the Lord is THE WORD OF THE LORD. We must listen for the moments we may be called to speak God’s word, to speak to God’s truth amid those who would not listen, to speak, demonstrate, act – whatever it takes to help the people hear. And we also will be called to listen to those who do just that – listen and receive those words which may be hateful to us because they challenge us, force us to examine our lives, our faith. We will be called to listen, receive, and act.

We will be called, you and I, this much is true. Whether we hear that call with open ears, open hearts, whether we respond, has yet to be determined. Amen.

What's In A Name?

Texts: Isaiah 62:1-5; 1 Corinthians 12:1-11

I can’t remember exactly when, but sometime between the end of elementary and the first year of middle school, looking up your name in baby books became the it thing. This followed on the heels of collecting trolls, those ugly little toys for some reason everyone wanted, and preceded the phenomenon known as MASH. Everyone wanted to know what their name meant, who had a cooler meaning than others. The group of prepubescent girls I was friends formed a competition of sorts. According to the books, my name means beloved – pretty good if you ask me. Still, my friend who is named Sarah won our odd little competition. Anyone named Sarah knows it comes from the Hebrew meaning princess. When you’re an eleven or twelve year old girl, a princess is pretty much the top of the top.

Had I known what I know now, though, I think I could have won. When I was in college a friend of mine who was taking Greek told me that my name, Amy, though spelled differently surely, means I AM… You know, as in what did God in the burning bush say to Moses when he asked what he should call the divine. Oh, you know I loved that. And while princess is still pretty cool, I think God’s name for Godself beats anything.

Our names have meaning – and it’s not just about the translation. Our names say something about us, about our history, about who we are. Sometimes our names seem to match well with our personality. When I was a kid going through my marathon readings of the Bible, I was always impressed that people’s names seemed to match up with what their personality or their actions. Like wise king Solomon whose name means peace, complete, or sound. Or Noah whose name means both settle down and lead. Both these men’s names match with who they were. Of course, that doesn’t always happen, which is why you find people changing their first names, saying, I don’t feel like a Barbara or a Wilbur.

Even though I’d like to believe my name which means beloved speaks about my personality, I do know it tells the story of my family. If you know my first and middle name, Amy Danielle, you know I was named after my mother’s cousin and my father. You may also learn that I’m Amy Danielle, and not Danielle Amy, because while my father wanted to name me after him, my mother didn’t believe a child should be named after a parent. Knowing that story, and of course my nice hyphenated last name, you can have a pretty could idea about the dynamics of my parents.

Along with our given names, many of us have nicknames that say something about us. Names have meaning and nicknames, our renaming by family and friends, speak to our relationships. I have two main nicknames. One, Ames, is used only by family and dear friends – if someone calls me Ames, you know they’re close to me. My other nickname, now I’m telling you this in trust, is Amy Dan. If you hear someone calling me Amy Dan, you know they are one of my grandparents or great-aunts and uncles. You know they’ve known me since I was born and that their age and relationship to me makes it so I won’t throw things at them when they call me by that nickname.

The nicknames, our renaming, shows that the namer and the namee have a relationship close enough that one wants to and the other allows a name substitute. Unless you’re Rob Schneider in the Copy Guy SNL skit, you probably don’t go around nicknaming everyone you meet. You save nicknames for people you know, people who care about. And LIKE all of Rob Schneider’s victims in the Copy Guy skits, most of us don’t allow ourselves to be nicknamed by someone we don’t know and care about.

Nicknaming, renaming, is a long standing tradition. I remember in my sorority the given of your nickname was a huge deal, complete with ceremony and everything. It’s not just Greek societies that make a big deal over a nickname. In ancient Viking societies, the giving of a nickname sometimes created a relationship between the name maker and the recipient of the nickname. There might even be a formal ceremony and an exchange of gifts to go along with the giving of a nickname.

Nicknames, renaming, is important moment which speaks about relationship as far back as the Bible. God renamed Abram Abraham not because God looked at him and said, you know, you look more like an Abraham or because God thought it would be easier for folks to pronounce. God renamed him, gave him a “nickname” if you will, to reflect their relationship, their change in relationship. Abram’s name was changed because he was changed – he was no longer the aimless nomad, he was in covenant relationship with God. And as sign of his new relationship, he has a new name.

God seems to enjoy renaming people as reflection of relationship. Abram became Abraham, Sarai Sarah, Jacob became Israel. God doesn’t just rename individuals, God renames communities, whole peoples. The text from Isaiah speaks of change in relationship. The people of Israel are given a new name, a nickname, to show that things have changed, for the better.

This part of Isaiah was written after the end of the Babylonian exile. Before and during the exile, the land was known as Desolate, the city Forsaken. These names reflected the relationship between God and the people. The people had forsaken their God, turned to other Gods, got lost in empty rituals, let power enchant and corrupt. They were unfaithful to the Lord, they became Desolate and Forsaken.

And now, after years of suffering through the exile, the people have come back to their land and back to right relationship with God. To reflect this new found relationship, the prophet tells us that God shall give them a new name. No longer shall the city be called Azubah, Desolate, and the land Shemamah, Forsaken, rather the city will be Hephzibah and the land Beulah.

Because there is a new relationship, they receive a new name. This new name speaks of promise, speaks of hope, speaks of wonderful intimate relationship with the Lord. What you once were is passed, you have new life, a new life with God. As a bridegroom with his bride, so does God delight in the people. With God the old has passed a way, a new life has begun. The covenant between God and God’s people has been renewed, and a new name has been given to mark the occasion.

Most of us, I would dare say, will not find our names changed or find ourselves nicknamed by God. At least not names like Hephzibah and Beulah. But most of us have had our name changed by God, have been given a new name even as we were given new life.

In baptism, we celebrate the given name of the person. When John and I take a baby from his or her parents’ arms, we ask “what is the given name of this child.” In some of the older Christian societies, a child’s full name was not given until the baptism or christening.

In baptism we celebrate the work of the Spirit already at work in the child or adult’s life. These gifts as Paul, once called Saul, tells us are different for each of us, and yet all from the same source, the one and the same Spirit. In baptism we celebrate that the person is welcomed into this faith community, the Presbyterian community, but moreover the Christian community. We welcome the one being baptized into this community who has named itself after the one in whom it finds it origins and meanings.

But more over, in baptism we celebrate the name God has given us. We celebrate that we have been claimed by the one who delights in us. Even as we celebrate the given name of the person, we speak a new name, a name given by God – “child of the covenant.” No matter how old, how young, the person baptized is just that – a child of the new covenant of Jesus Christ.

This is our name, not just our nickname. That is the name God has given us. A name that both speaks of relationship AND who we are. As a child of the covenant, we know we belong to God. We belong to a God who longs for relationship, who renews relationship with us even when we stray, who seeks us out for our salvation.

As a child of the covenant, we know that we are called to a way of living that is markedly different just as we are marked as different in our baptism. We are called to serve the one to whom we belong with all of our gifts, all of our lives. No matter what we are called to, whether we be called to ministry as ordained ministers, or as elders, or as lay persons, we are called to serve God with all the Spirit as graced us with. As a child of the covenant, we have a purpose.

Whether we are named Amy, or Sarah, or Hephzibah, we in this community of faith are named and claimed by God. No competition required, we all receive this delightful and demanding name.