jesus surprises us: 1st sunday of christmas

the other scripture for the day were:

1 samuel 2:18-10, 26

colossians 3:12-17

the holy gospel according to luke, the 2^nd chapter.  glory to you, o lord.

⁴¹Now every year Jesus’ parents went to Jerusalem for the festival of the Passover. ⁴²And when he was twelve years old, they went up as usual for the festival. ⁴³When the festival was ended and they started to return, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, but his parents did not know it. ⁴⁴Assuming that he was in the group of travelers, they went a day’s journey.

Then they started to look for him among their relatives and friends. ⁴⁵When they did not find him, they returned to Jerusalem to search for him. ⁴⁶After three days they found him in the temple, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. ⁴⁷And all who heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers. ⁴⁸When his parents saw him they were astonished; and his mother said to him, “Child, why have you treated us like this? Look, your father and I have been searching for you in great anxiety.” ⁴⁹He said to them, “Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” ⁵⁰But they did not understand what he said to them. ⁵¹Then he went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them. His mother treasured all these things in her heart. ⁵²And Jesus increased in wisdom and in years, and in divine and human favor.

the gospel of the lord.  praise to you, o christ.

-----

this week i went to see the movie rise of the guardians with some friends.  rise of the guardians is about the guardians of childhood: santa claus, the easter bunny, the tooth fairy, the sandman, and jack frost, protecting children and childhood from the boogie man.  

at the end of the movie, a child behind me said to his adult caregiver, “but jack frost has to be real, or where does all the frost come from?”  again on the way out of the theater, the child clarified that, “there’s only one big foot.”  to which the man responded, “i don’t know…there were a lot in the movie.”  making eye-contact with the child, i replied to his statement with, “true story,” affirming what the child had said.  as we walked away i heard the child exclaim to the man, “see!  somebody over there said, ‘true story!’”

not having any of my own, for me children are, in general, full of surprises.  one of my favorite things when i talk with children is to learn how their thought process works.  even when it’s not what i would come up with, it’s usually very clearly logical—jack frost must exist, or where does frost come from?  these conversations always seem to give me something to treasure in my own heart. 

the child that is so convinced about jack frost and big foot surprised me with his logic and brought me back to the fun and wonder of being a child.

in our gospel reading today, jesus also            surprises the grown-ups with his questions and observations.  those gathered in the temple are surprised and mary and joseph are very clearly surprised—after all, it took three days of searching before they thought to look in the temple! 

where were they searching in those three days?  what made them finally decide to check the temple?  did it take all three days to get through their list of family and friends in jerusalem?  were they simply heading to the temple to pray, having exhausted all options and hope? 

although it was just a few days ago that we experienced the angels with the shepherds and jesus’ birth, i have to wonder if mary and joseph have forgotten who jesus really is.  has so much time passed since the angels came to them and the shepherds that they’ve returned to the “normalcy” of raising a child and all that that entails and forgotten that this child is also god incarnate—god-in-the-flesh?

were the expectations raised so high at the beginning with the angels and the shepherds that the normalcy of raising a child—the dirty diapers, constant hunger, and lack of sleep—overtook the wonder and joy of god incarnate?  here, we encounter the holy family when jesus is still a child, being good and faithful, following through on the rites and rituals of their faith, yet perhaps forgetting the mystery of their child.

after 12 years without an angelic appearance, it’s understandable that they’ve lowered their expectations for what it means to be jesus’ caretakers.  being parents has become normal, perhaps delightfully so, perhaps not.  so, when jesus turns 12, they make their usual pilgrimage to jerusalem for the passover festival and are jerked back to the reality of having a child who is nothing like any other, who surprises them with his logic and brings them back to the bafflement of raising the child of god.

when they finally do find him and lay the parental guilt down, saying, “child, why have you treated us like this?  look, your father and i have been searching for you in great anxiety.”  jesus clearly points out that he has a higher authority to answer to than mary and joseph.  he makes clear to them that there was only ever one thing he could be doing.

theologian john petty points out that in the greek, jesus’ explanation is far more interesting.  using language of divine imperative, jesus says that he must be about his father’s business. the word “house” is not in the text in greek, but instead it is understood that the english fill-in could be house, or it could more likely be business, things, or interests.  so, jesus explains to his parents, “of course i was here; i had to be here, being about my father’s business.”

and what is his father’s business?  for 12-year-old jesus it’s listening and questioning                         and in that it is surprising.  jesus surprises his parents and the local scholars by listening and engaging them in conversation, but even more profoundly, he surprises them by being in the temple and being about his father’s business.

jesus does what no other 12-year-old would—he leaves his parents not to run away, but to recognize the higher authority on which he is to act.  he has a mission and in the first words jesus says in the gospel of luke, he sets the tone for his whole ministry in the gospel: he is to be about his father’s business first and foremost.  this business is surprising in that it entails engaging people—listening, questioning, answering, and surprising.

but this is not the first surprise.  years and years earlier god surprised hannah by bringing her a son, whom she named samuel.  and years and years after that, yet still so many years ago god surprised mary and joseph and the world by coming in the form of a baby to be god-with-us, immanuel.

jesus surprises the teachers with his understanding and answers, while he listens and questions in the temple.

jesus surprises his parents by being in the temple, not with them on the way back from jerusalem.

jesus surprises us by following a higher authority—god’s authority—rather than our own human authorities.

jesus surprises all those around him throughout his life and ministry. 

and ultimately, jesus surprises us all by taking all the hatred and violence of the world into himself and responding with life!                          resurrection! 

and since then, he has continued to surprise people throughout the ages.  i asked some of my friends how jesus surprises them and i got responses ranging from “everything about jesus surprises me” to “nothing really surprises me about jesus anymore.”  it got me thinking, though, about the ways that jesus can surprise us all today.

jesus surprises us in the welcome feast at the table each sunday where each broken person comes to be fed by the body that is broken for all, where jesus breaks into our worship with forgiveness, life, and nourishment.

jesus surprises us with the children in our lives who ask tough questions, who are confident in their logic, who are more insightful and observant than we might give them credit for being, and who put things into new perspectives.

jesus surprises us by coming to engage with us—to come as god incarnate—god-in-the-flesh—to be flesh with us.  and each week when god comes to us in jesus we get to join with mary and “treasure all these things in our hearts,” “letting the peace of christ rule in our hearts—and letting the word of christ dwell in us (richly)” through word and sacrament.

jesus surprises some by providing a free roof over their head even as they are immersed in a culture of independence that says it can’t be so.

jesus surprises some in a prayer shawl received for the day they come out to loved ones.

jesus surprises me with moments of grace and joy that quickly follow tearful moments of complete frustration and loss.

jesus surprises some with hugs that both huggers desperately need, even if they can’t always ask for them.

jesus surprises some in the faces of patients and friends waiting for care, for comfort, for god

jesus surprises us in the lives of those with whom we are angry or frustrated

mr. rogers once said, “when i was a boy and i would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘look for the helpers. you will always find people who are helping.’”  maybe jesus surprises us when we follow mr. rogers’ mom’s advice and we see the helpers in a given situation: the teachers, the firefighters, the police officers, the parents, the friends, the children, the strangers.  maybe that is how jesus surprises us. 

  

jesus surprises some when he glows in our darkness, in victoria soto, a teacher who saved lives with hers, in first responders who run into the situation when others run out.

jesus surprises me by making me uncomfortable, by pushing me.

jesus surprises some by showing up over and over again, sometimes by coming out of hiding, sometimes when reflecting back on a situation, and sometimes in that very moment.

how does jesus surprise you?  does he challenge you?  does he push you beyond your comfort zone?  does he comfort you?  does he surprise you by loving you?  

how does jesus, this god incarnate, immanuel, surprise you?  

and how will he surprise you this week?

longest night sermon

the texts for this sermon were:

mark 13:24-37

isaiah 40:1-11

zephaniah 3:14-20

2 peter 3:8-15a (ends with "... Lord as salvation.")

the sun is darkened and it feels as though the powers in the heavens have indeed been shaken.  daylight has been passing away, electricity, too seems scarce after last night’s snow, and everyone seems to be too busy and wrapped up in friends and family to have time for anyone else.  not to mention, every ad on tv or store i pass is pushing for more and more consumption of things—stuff; anything, really, as long as you buy it.

life is passing away—loved ones are dying, children are dying, innocence is snatched away at every turn, and even heaven and earth seem to be passing away. 

and yet day after day we are here.  we keep showing up, putting one foot in front of the other and wondering, “how long?”  how long must we live in exile like the israelites isaiah addresses?  whether we are far from loved ones, struggling with depression, anxiety, or mental illness, trying desperately to make ends meet, or simply feeling a bit lonely or blue, we find ourselves as exiles trying to navigate our way through a harsh holiday season.

in the midst of this exile, we hear our god crying, “comfort!  oh, comfort my people!”  god cries enough!  enough of the pain and sorrow, sadness and hurt.  enough of the oppression and persecution.  our term is served, the penalty paid.

god calls for a highway through the wilderness, a highway back home.  preparations must be made, for god’s people are coming home.  god sends out the orders for comfort and for expediency, the way will be direct: the way in the wilderness, the highway through the desert; a fast-track home.  it is coming. 

all in god’s time.

but still, we lament the waiting and the slowness as peter reminds us “that with the lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like one day.”  we agonize and lament as god’s time remains mysterious to us.  we ask god why not now—not yet?  what is it that takes so long?  why has zephaniah’s word from god not yet been fulfilled? 

we still wait for disaster to be removed, for god to deal with our oppressors: saving the lame and gathering the outcast, changing all our shame to praise and renown.  we wait for god to gather us home, to bring us back from this exile.

we wait with impatience for the coming of our savior, for light to return to brighten our darkness.  and yet peter tells us that god is the one who is patient with us!  god waits so that all might come to repentance; so that all might be saved.  it’s not that we are waiting for god who has not yet shown up, but god is waiting with us and for us.  

i heard someone blame the massacre at sandy hook elementary school on the fact that we’ve taken god out of the schools.  there is no way god can be simply removed from anywhere. 

god, who comes to us incarnate, is with us always.  god waits with us.  god is here now, where we are, god is in our homes, in our work places, and yes, in our schools.  god is with us always, waiting and hoping with us.

we wait and we search and we struggle and god is there.  god is in the midst of our struggle and waiting, our tears and frustrations.  even in the face of all things breaking down, of a world not like we want it or wish it, god is with us and waits. 

we gather for this longest night, knowing that the world is not as it should be.  our struggles are not just our own, they are the struggles of humanity.  humanity waits and longs for god’s time to come, justice on earth, mercy and grace, and love. 

we await our savior this advent season and with us, god waits and god makes preparations.  even as the voice in isaiah confronts us with the reality that everything in this world is fickle, fading and withering, easily swayed by the prevailing winds, god’s way is strong and true and god prepares a way home for us. 

god waits with us and for us, calling us back and bringing us home—home to a dirty little manger where the glory of god is revealed in the most vulnerable: a baby in a feeding trough, wrapped in some old cloth.  in that meagerness, we find god who is rich in mercy, who comes to us to be with us and to be us, human, real, suffering as we suffer, living as we live, dying as we die, and struggling together. 

god waits with us for our savior, who comes with might and power, and with mercy and care, gathering the lambs in a loving embrace, safely shepherding us home.

god who comes to us in a baby in a manger also comes to us in the wheat and grapes of communion.  the bread that sustains and the wine that enlivens us, bringing us together from our places of exile to our home here at the table.  the broken bread and the outpoured cup: gifts from the god who waits with us, the god who struggles with us, and the god who comes to us. 

and so, we can sing aloud and shout with zephaniah, rejoicing and exulting with all our heart because god is in our midst.  god is with us and even as we are in exile, god sits and struggles and dwells with us.  god cares for you and for me and is patient with us and with humanity. 

we struggle,

we despair,

we lament

and god who is with us is big enough for all our despair.  god is big enough and god wraps us in loving arms, carrying us into the next day, guiding us as we journey through this longest night, with the hope and expectation that in the morning, light will come, in a few short days, we will welcome the christ child, and even as we wait, god welcomes us here, tonight, to god’s table, where jesus meets us in our darkness, to bring light and hope and salvation.

thanks be to god.

god has a place for you: 3rd sunday in advent

the first reading is zephaniah 3:14-20.

the second reading is philippians 4:4-7.

the gospel according to luke, the 3^rd chapter, glory to you, o lord.

⁷John said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? ⁸Bear fruits worthy of repentance. Do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. ⁹Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.”

¹⁰And the crowds asked him, “What then should we do?” ¹¹In reply he said to them, “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.”

¹²Even tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, “Teacher, what should we do?” ¹³He said to them, “Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.”

¹⁴Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what should we do?” He said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages.”

¹⁵As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, ¹⁶John answered all of them by saying, “I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. ¹⁷His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” ¹⁸So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people. 

the gospel of the lord, praise to you, o christ.

-----

rev. michael fick, a pastor in chicago, translates john’s question to the crowd as, “what’s the matter with you, humanity?”  and this week has been a week when i want to join john in asking, “what’s the matter with you, humanity?”

two mass shootings in one week, in addition to the hundreds of other shootings in our country and our world that don’t receive the same national and international attention.  at the beginning of the month we had our own high-profile shooting right here in kansas city, yet we’ve had many more that aren’t even a blip on the national radar—it seems that every time i go to the kansas city star website there is news of yet another death.

we each have our own reactions and responses when we hear of more violence, each of us have memories that are triggered—of friends and loved ones, of images, phone calls, and tv screens.

i was in middle school when dylan klebold and eric harris attacked the students and staff at columbine high school in littleton, colorado.  at that point it was the worst school shooting in us history and the only one i was aware of at all.  we had family friends in littleton, at columbine when it happened.  

i remember coming home and hearing the news.  i remember when the national rifle association came to denver less than two weeks after the shooting for its annual convention.  i remember the lock-down drills that we’ve had in school ever since then.  i remember the friends i worked with at camp who graduated from columbine.  the reports came out and the explanations and reasons were put forward, but the question that remained unanswered—and does so still today—is “what’s the matter with you, humanity?”

what’s the matter with you, humanity—when children are killed in the places we think are safest?  what’s the matter with you, humanity—when people are shot on the streets of our cities and it hardly even counts as news anymore?  what’s the matter with you, humanity—when access to a gun is easier than access to mental health care?  what’s the matter with you, humanity, when lives are taken in suicide, homicide, and even just in accidents? 

the problem when i cry with john, “what’s the matter with you, humanity?” is precisely that i             am            a part    of   humanity, and so i am also confronted with my implicit involvement in the death of innocent children.  and that is overwhelming, because how can anyone stop all of the violence in our city, let alone our country or our world?!

but i understand the question of the crowd: “what then should we do?”  the sins of the world are all             too overwhelming, how can we possibly do anything or bear any fruits worthy of repentance?  how could anything i do matter in the grand scheme of things?

but john is there.  recognizing the overwhelming feeling of the sins of the whole world and the crowd’s participation in them, john gives us a starting point: share.  you know that special coat you save to wear on the sabbath?  share it instead—kindness and generosity are more important than religiosity.  you made a big dinner?  invite the homeless person who sleeps on the bench or the steps or the person on food stamps to join you.

even the tax collectors, known for cheating people out of their money, and soldiers, known as bullies, violently intimidating people for what they want, come for a baptism of repentance and when they ask john “what should we do?” he has his answer: do your job with integrity.  he doesn’t tell them to break ties with the occupying roman forces—to separate completely.  instead he tells the tax collectors: don’t take more money than you ought; and tells the soldiers: no more shake downs, be satisfied with your wages.

in this world in which we live, there is no black and white.  as sirius tells harry in the movie, harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban, “the world isn't split into good people and death eaters. we've all got both light and dark inside us.”  or, to put it in lutheran terms, we are each simultaneously sinner and saint. 

so john tells us to live in this messy world with integrity. 

his advice is small and concrete. 

one of the pictures that has popped up with the most frequency in the last couple of days is a picture of fbi agents walking a group of children in a single file line to safety.  the children are lined up with their hands on the shoulders of the person in front of them so that they stay together. 

that is what john is calling on us to do.  to put our hands on each other’s shoulders and move forward one step at a time.  to join together.  to take small, manageable steps forward.  those steps look different for each of us. 

for some, it’s making sure each child in your life knows that you love them and has room to ask questions about what happened.  for some, it’s addressing the laws that make it far too easy to get a gun.  for some, it’s addressing the laws and societal structures that make it far too difficult to get mental health care.  for some it is going back to school and defying the fear attempting to take over, trusting in the one, who is more powerful than any of us, the one who is coming.

share what we can, do what we can, trusting that what we have and what we do is enough and that with god it is more than enough. 

and yet, the questions that slip, unbidden from our lips, are not only “what’s the matter with you, humanity?” but also, what’s the matter with you, god?  what’s the matter with you, god—that you let this happen?  where were you?  where are you now?  what’s the matter with you, god—that we are still waiting for you to fulfill your word through zephaniah to bring us home and gather us all—in safety and peace?  what’s the matter with you, god—that we are still waiting, waiting, waiting for the peace of god, which surpasses all understanding?  what’s the matter with you, god—that lives are taken from us before we are ready?

and here we learn from zephaniah, a prophet to the israelites in exile.  they too were survivors of tragedy and of crime, trying to find a new way without their homes or their temple or their loved ones.  and we learn from paul in his letter to the philippians as he sat in jail, expecting for his life to end there.  we are reminded by them what it is about this god that gets us through.  we know a god who comes as the most vulnerable among us and dies the worst death imaginable, and yet proves that death is not the final answer. 

as christians, we trust in the god who comes to us, to be with us, god incarnate as jesus the christ.  christ, who weeps with us over death.  christ, who frees us from death; christ, who conquers death and makes the final word a word of love and freedom.  

christ comes as the least of these to make clear to us who gather in shock and sorrow: 

god loves you and god has a place and a role for you.  in baptism we are told: you belong and you are god’s beloved.  

and that belonging and love give us the hope and the confidence to: rejoice in the lord always; again i will say, rejoice.  

and the peace of god, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in christ jesus.

amen and thanks be to god.

advent, bikes, lessons, and carols

in case you missed it with the lateness of last week's post, advent has come in a big and busy way this year!  the past few weeks have involved:

a new-to-me (refurbished) bicycle for the small price of a four-part online bicycle safety course (i could've volunteered for 10 hours instead if i wanted), $10 (which i wouldn't have had to pay if that would cause undue financial strain), and a brief in-person review of the safety course (to make sure i didn't cheat)!  not only that, i received some free gear (headlight and taillight for the bike, helmet, and lock)!  here's a picture the person who runs the organization took with me and my new bike and free gear:

before coming to kansas city, i was lamenting that i couldn't bring my bike with me when a friend of mine mentioned a non-profit in denver that gave people bikes for free or cheap and suggested i check it out in kansas city to see if there was one here.  well, i did and i found revolvekc.org a non-profit doing just what my friend had mentioned, so i took the online course and got my bike!  in conversations with the woman that runs the organization, i discovered that there's a really good program for this in chicago as well (and probably in any substantially sized city near you)!  what a brilliant idea!

-----

in addition to the new bike, i also was in charge of the silent auction part of lessons and carols at st. mark hope and peace lutheran church, the second of the music on troost series that st. mark hope and peace is doing with st. james catholic church.  the silent auction was wonderful and big and great, but the really amazing thing was the lessons and carols program!  a local a cappella group, octarium, performed the carols and community leaders did the readings.  each carol and scripture was paired with a short reading from a variety of people: walter burghardt, madeleine l'engle, dom helder camara, peter chrysologus, and julia esquivel in addition to two anonymous works: che jesus (from argentina) and the aztec story of the nativity.  

the readings were thought-provoking and engaging, the music was wonderful, the church beautiful, the sanctuary full, the reception delightful, and the silent auction (stressfully) successful!  and so, i leave you with a picture from my seat before the service of lessons and carols began:

so, as with most people, advent has been a ridiculously busy time that i should've seen coming but still didn't expect.  busy and beautiful.

sv. mikuláš

it is officially advent.  i feel behind in just about everything and have this feeling that i'm constantly attempting to catch up on everything...including my blogging, so in honor of deň svätého mikuláša (st. nicholas day, for you non-slovak speakers), here's what's been going on in the office today (among getting all of our work done, of course):

i, of course, knew sv. mikuláš would come, so i wore 

the closest thing i have to a sv. mikuláš tie: my santa claus tie

our ministry coordinator did leave her shoes out, as is the custom...

and was pleasantly surprised to find goodies in her shoes!

in addition to all of that, i was blessed to receive 

a wonderful christmas card in the mail from lstc

this afternoon i'm doing a devotion for the metro lutheran ministry christmas store volunteers.  the christmas store serves 800-900 households in kansas city (over 2,500 people) with important and helpful things, cookies, and all sorts of wonderful things i take for granted every day (such as a blanket to sleep under).  good ministry, somehow i think sv. mikuláš would be happy about what's going on.  i am simply blessed to be able to serve!

the worship workout

most of my life i have heard about the aerobic exercise that comes with good lutheran worship: stand up, sit down, stand up, sit down...i almost want to add "fight! fight! fight!" to the end as if we were at a sports game.  well, this past sunday i was a banner carrier and a bible bearer in the same service.  it wasn't until halfway through the gospel reading that i realized i might need to build a bit of my upper body strength a little as my arms began to shake (luckily my supervisor, who was reading could follow along despite my tremors).

it did get me thinking though that as far as strength-building, very active worship participation would go a long way.  the banner is not too heavy, though a bit wobbly, which requires muscles, but the cross that we use at immanuel is fairly heavy and very much top-heavy, which requires a considerable amount of strength (i believe people are told they need to be able to lift at least 50 lbs if they want to process with the cross).

add in carrying the bible, especially if you carry it above your head, and holding it out from your core and you've got some good arm workouts. (a disclaimer, lest you think i cannot carry a bible: the bible we use is the whole bible, quite large, with a substantial cover, not a lectionary for the liturgical year or a study bible)

in the handbell choir some of the bells are quite large, so ringing them again builds strength.  also, holding your arms out in the orans position when praying up front or when presiding at communion, especially if you were to wear a chasuble, is yet another upper arm strength builder.

then, if you add in the kneeling and standing up and sitting down, your legs can get a pretty good workout as well.  then, if you're baptizing a baby and walk it down the aisle, that builds up strength as well.

i'm thinking about creating a new workout video and going through the different parts of worship for the workout.  it'll be a bit top-heavy, but arms are my least favorite for strength-building, so maybe that's a good thing.  this might also be a tricky way to get people to participate more in worship: you want a workout? come help with worship!

hmmm...maybe that's the wrong reason to come to worship, but intriguing all the same...

trans day of remembrance

i typed up the prayer petitions this past week for church.  we use sundays and seasons and then add two petitions that are more context specific.  i included prayers for all those in palestine and israel as well as prayers for god's transgender children.  tuesday, november 20th is the trans day of remembrance.

i have never been to a service or gathering for the trans day of remembrance and there's one here in kansas city this year.  there will be a vigil on the plaza at 7:30 pm.  i am going as the intern at immanuel lutheran church.  in thinking about why i'm going, i've started to think about why i do anything that i do.  here is my list for why it is important for me to go to the vigil tomorrow night.

as a part of the lgbtqi community, it is important for me to go.

as a church leader, it is important for me to go.

as a person whose gender expression is not always normative, it is important for me to go.

as the significant other of a transguy, it is important for me to go.

as a child of god concerned about violence and hatred, it is important for me to go.

as a person working against transphobia, it is important for me to go.

as a human being, it is important for me to go.

i'm sure i am missing some very valid and important reasons.  most of the time my reasons for going to anything connect to my identity as a child of god, as a queer woman, and as a person trying really hard to be non-violent and work against oppression.  what about you?  what are your reasons for doing what you do?  what sends you into your life and work in the world?

on a happier note, here's a picture of that significant other i mentioned and me at a local coffee shop :)

a week without reading, blogs, or even facebook!

i am currently reading a book with a friend called the artist's way.  it is about reconnecting with the creativity within us with the understanding that creativity is a gift for each of us from our creator.  each week i have certain tasks that i can choose from in addition to my weekly routine of an artist date (something to feed my artist child) and daily morning pages (three pages of stream of consciousness writing that i write and don't look at again).

this past week the main part was reading deprivation.  the theory is that reading can be life-giving, but can also be used to take up time so that we don't do other things to nurture our creative selves.  so, this week i took a break from reading.  i still read email, as it comes with my job, but i took a break from reading books (at the gym, before bed, at home, on my day off, etc.), reading blogs (news and friends'), and reading (or even just seeing) anything on facebook.

i think the biggest difference was honestly the blogs and facebook.  i realized this week how much i rely on a few blogs and facebook to keep up with the news and to keep connected with other people.  i had gotten into such a habit of checking my emails and automatically checking facebook, that i found myself about to open a new tab for facebook on several occasions.  as i got used to not opening a tab for facebook, i had more time.  i had so much time this week that i already have a draft of my newsletter article and my council report for this month done, in addition to having started on my three month report and project proposal for candidacy.

i also have limited internet in the parsonage, and since i didn't have much need for it without facebook or blogs, i found myself not even trying--no longer spending the wasteful minutes to see if the internet was strong enough.  instead i listened to music, colored, knitted, and went to a movie.

my saturday was wonderfully free so that i could spend time having coffee with a friend and doing what i wanted.  the break was much needed and while i can't stay away from facebook forever (it is a good way to keep tabs on the people i care about all over the world), it was a welcome sabbath and i look forward to doing it again from time to time.  have you had a sabbath lately?

for all the saints: all saints sunday sermon

a reading from isaiah

⁶on this mountain the lord of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wines, of rich food filled with marrow, of well-aged wines strained clear. ⁷and he will destroy on this mountain the shroud that is cast over all peoples, the sheet that is spread over all nations; he will swallow up death forever. ⁸then the lord god will wipe away the tears from all faces, and the disgrace of his people he will take away from all the earth, for the lord has spoken.

⁹it will be said on that day, lo, this is our god; we have waited for him, so that he might save us. this is the lord for whom we have waited; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation.

word of god, word of life,

(thanks be to god)

the gospel according to john the 11^th chapter:

³²when mary came where jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said to him, “lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

³³when jesus saw her weeping, and the jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved. ³⁴he said, “where have you laid him?”

they said to him, “lord, come and see.”

³⁵jesus began to weep.

³⁶so the jews said, “see how he loved him!”

³⁷but some of them said, “could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”

³⁸then jesus, again greatly disturbed, came to the tomb. it was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. ³⁹jesus said, “take away the stone.”

martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, “lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead four days.”

⁴⁰jesus said to her, “did i not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of god?” ⁴¹so they took away the stone. and jesus looked upward and said, “father, i thank you for having heard me. ⁴²i knew that you always hear me, but i have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here, so that they may believe that you sent me.”

⁴³when he had said this, he cried with a loud voice, “lazarus, come out!”

⁴⁴the dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth.

jesus said to them, “unbind him, and let him go.”

the gospel of the lord

(praise to you, o christ)

like lazarus, we are swallowed up by death.  death is all around us: in loved ones who have passed away, in natural disasters like sandy, and in the wars going on in this world.  there is death and tragedy and it binds us up and closes us into the tomb with lazarus, it closes us in on ourselves. 

this death that closes us in is not always loss of life.  death can be bullying at school, job loss, constant negative attack ads on tv, homelessness and hunger, it is the culture of violence in which we live where games teach us to kill and innocent lives are forever marred by assault, where the violence against women act has become a partisan issue, preventing it from making its way through congress.  we live daily surrounded by death, a shroud cast over all of us.

and yet, in the midst of our death, jesus comes to us.  jesus comes to our tomb and mobilizes the forces: first the stone must be taken away—the protests are clear: already there is a stench!!  the stench of death uncovered, named, revealed for what it is. 

as we stand with hands and feet bound, death is all-consuming.  there is no other way.  we see, hear, smell, and touch death.  still, as the stone rolls away a gust of fresh air blows in and we catch a whiff of the feast isaiah describes.  a feast of rich food and well-aged wine.  a feast of celebration.  a feast of new life.  a feast that comes to us in our death, in our tomb, and lures us out.  calling us forth into the world. 

this feast is not just your average mcdonald’s fare.  it is homemade goodness, cooked and baked and made with more love than that with which my dad makes his famous shell dinner or grandma bakes that perfect pie.  it is a nourishing filling feast better than thanksgiving! 

and it beckons to us with the scent of new life as jesus calls to lazarus, “lazarus, come out!” and again jesus calls to you and to me “come out!”

we peak out from our place of death.  it may not be pleasant in here, but at least we know it.  we know the pain and the sorrow of death.  we know what to expect.  but jesus is calling! 

so… we step out of the tomb.  the stone has been rolled away and there is a feast set for all people.  we are still labeled as dead, and yet there is new life rolling over us.  we stand, hands and feet bound, face wrapped in cloth, and hear jesus call to the community: “unbind them, and let them go.” 

as our community descends on us, god is at work, “destroying the shroud that is cast over all peoples,” “swallowing up death forever.”  god comes to us and through us, releasing us from the pain and sorrow of death, setting a feast for all people and all nations.  the key, as isaiah articulates, is that this feast god has prepared for you and for me, is not just a feast for us here, it is a feast for all.

just as jesus calls on the community to unbind lazarus, so too god calls us into community in the feast prepared for all.  jesus does the hard work of raising us all from the dead, and then calls us to one another                        to unbind each other                         and to be unbound by each other. 

our gospel does not say that god helps those who help themselves.  our gospel is: god loves us all and sets a feast [indicate table] for all of us to come together to love and serve all people, to seek the good of all, so that all might be fed with the bread of life and all might drink from the spring of the water of life.

and there is enough and more than enough for all people.  when god sets a feast, god sets it in abundance.  the richest of foods and best of drinks, set for celebration.  found in the midst of judgment, the reading from isaiah assures us with the promise of life; the promise that god will indeed “swallow up death forever.”  the feast for all people is the feast that sets all people free; the feast that promises life abundant. 

yet here we are waiting.  still waiting for that feast.  still waiting for death to be swallowed up.  waiting and yearning for god to come and set the feast.  perhaps that is why there is still a bit of a stench.  in the news, in the world, in our lives, there’s still a stench of death around us.  that stench that says we are living in what is called the “already and not yet.”  god in jesus has already set the feast, has swallowed up death forever, but not yet do we understand that reality.  not yet do we live that difference.

we still wait.  we wait for the feast for all people.  we wait for death to be swallowed up,             even             as we know                         the feast is set and death is swallowed up.  god sets a feast for all people and every sunday we come to the feast, and even as we eat the bread and drink the wine, we are still waiting. 

as in communion so too in our lives we get foretastes of the feast to come, even as we wait.  we get a foretaste as a friend stands up to the bully or a teacher steps in.  we get a foretaste when we get a job-lead or we find a new use for our free time to benefit another, when we get an hour of peace on tv—or even just when we look ahead to wednesday’s freedom from political ads.  last night i got a foretaste of the feast at the mlm banquet, hearing about all that mlm is doing for the poorest of the poor here in kansas city.  we get a foretaste of the feast in shelters and organizations that care for survivors and in the people in our lives who come to unbind us with love and care—hugs and a listening ear.

we have but a foretaste of the feast to come and yet it is enough of a chance that we have the opportunity to begin to live into this new life, this feast.  in the waters of baptism our not yet collides with our already.  as the water is poured over us and the words are spoken, we are joined together with jesus in his death so that we might also be joined to him in the resurrection.  already and not yet.

so then,                         how do we choose to live?  do we live into the already feast, trusting in god’s abundance for all people?  do we live into the already community that jesus has called together to unbind us and to unbind each other? 

or do we live into the not yet of waiting for god to act—waiting for god’s promises to be fulfilled the way we expect?  do we live into the not yet of the tomb?

how we live reveals who we are.  when we choose to live into the already of god’s feast—of jesus’ reign—we join with all the saints.  we all come to the feast and as we each go forth sealed by the holy spirit and marked with the cross of christ forever, we look back at the lessons of love, gratitude, and generosity—and sometimes lessons of what not to do—that we’ve received from the saints who’ve passed away.  and we look to the future—to rhys and the other newly baptized saints full of life.  and we look to the present—all the saints in all the world.

in our living and our dying, in all we do.  in our voting.  

we get to live into the already.  concerned that all might join in the feast, that all people and all nations might have enough—food, water, safety, and support.

especially this week as we go to the polls we have the opportunity to live into the already.  we get to vote for all the saints. 

with our votes we get to care for the good of all people. 

with our votes we get to care for creation. 

with our votes we get to live into the already of god’s feast of celebration. 

with our votes we get to heed jesus’ call to “unbind them and let them go” and we ourselves get to be unbound. 

in all we do we have the chance to live into god’s already: in school, in work, in play, in church, in all our lives. 

in all    we do    and in how    we vote,       we get to do it    for    all    people.                      

amen!

harry potter: a story of reformation

in honor of reformation and
halloween, our guest
blogger: mr. h. j. potter

my name is harry james potter, and i am a reformer.  let me tell you my story.

growing up i was pretty set on going to stonewall high.  much like martin luther's, my caregivers (uncle vernon and aunt petunia) had me set on a specific track--instead of becoming a lawyer like luther, i was set to go to public school.  one night during a great storm, a half-giant named rubeus hagrid knocked down the door to our hut on the sea and set me on an entirely different course.  martin luther's lightning was my knocked-in door.

our caregivers were not at all happy about our change of plans, but our minds were made up.  so it was that on the first of september, 1991, i boarded the scarlet steam engine that would carry me to hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry.

each year at hogwarts was unlike the one before, yet as the years progressed i began to realize that something wasn't right with the powers that be (also known as the ministry of magic).  the dark lord kept trying to come back and yet no one could let go of their need for perceived peace.

at the end of my fourth year, lord voldemort (alternately known as tom riddle, the dark lord, you-know-who, and he-who-must-not-be-named) returned.  i saw him and knew the evil he would seek.  it seemed, however, that the ministry had no concern and, in fact, refused to believe me!  now martin luther, it seems, remained in good standing with the catholic church until the 95 these were posted.  as for me, the moment i returned from the graveyard and cornelius fudge, the then minister of magic, refused to believe me, i was a persecuted man.

like luther, i had a few key people in my corner with me.  ron was my non-romantic katharina luther.  he supported me, occasionally argued with me, but overall, we were in it together--loyal best friends.  hermione was my philipp melanchthon.  her brains kept me sharp and on-point.  she kept our movement focused and when my part in the reforms was done, she continued, pushing for the improved treatment of all magical creatures--especially house elves--and continuing to reform the department of magical law enforcement.  professor dumbledore and the members of the order of the phoenix were oftentimes like prince frederick iii, elector of saxony, and the nobles who provided enough support and protection for us to continue reforming.

all of my memories of my fifth year are marred by thoughts of dolores umbridge, our defense against the dark arts professor.  she was cruel and was only there as a spy for the ministry.  those were lonely times and there were several occasions that i woke up and wanted nothing more than to be as scathing toward umbridge and fudge and the ministry--and sometimes even toward my own allies--as martin luther was toward the jews when he realized they weren't going to convert to christianity and when he was ill.  luther was bad, though.  i'd like to hope a right sight worse than i ever was even at my worst!  sometimes that resulted in detentions, but most often i was luckier than martin and managed not to have a record of it.  looking back, i sometimes wish that both luther and i had had the insight to just go back to bed on those days.

in the spring of my fifth year, i posted my own version of the 95 theses.  while luther didn't intend to upend the entire church and incite a new branch of christianity called protestantism, i was already in the midst of a struggle with the powers that be, so it was just another step along the path for me.  instead of a church door or a blog, i put my story in the quibbler, a magazine whose reputation varies, but was quite loyal to our movement for reform.

that's when things really got bad.  the ministry revved up its persecution of me while voldemort continued to get stronger and built up his army.  things came to a head with the ministry when umbridge tried to use the cruciatus curse (an unforgivable curse) on me.  like the attempt on luther's life planned after the diet of worms, when luther was made an outlaw and anyone was allowed to kill him, i too was spared.  prince frederick iii saved luther, and hermione's clever plan combined with pure luck saved me.

we continued the movement as the war continued.  we won the battle against umbridge, although the war kept going in full force.  the ministry of magic was forced to acknowledge that we had been right all along, but voldemort was still out there and so we turned our attention to him and the death eaters instead.  what martin luther did with words, i did with action as in our seventh year, hermione, ron, and i didn't return to hogwarts.  instead we set out to destroy voldemort's horcruxes--to make him human again.

in the end, by risking our lives and by staying true to what we knew--to our beliefs, we were able to defeat voldemort and reform the magical world.  throughout this all, some specific insights remain with me.  i remember sirius telling me in my fifth year that the world isn't split into good people and death eaters.  that is such a difficult concept, and yet it reminds me of what martin luther said: we are all simultaneously sinner and saint.  we are not one or the other, we are both and.  and in that vain as the holy spirit does with the church today, so too we in the magical world are ever reforming.

silent auctions and abundant communities

one of my joys so far on internship has been exploring and embracing the connections that immanuel has to other congregations and organizations.  as a congregation in kansas city, we partner with and support organizations like westport cooperative services, communities creating opportunity, metropolitan lutheran ministries, and hollis renewal center, to name a few.  we also connect with our sister and cousin congregations like children’s memorial, st. james catholic church, and st. mark hope and peace.

this connection with st. mark hope and peace has been especially clear lately as i’ve had the opportunity to help take applications there for the mlm christmas store, which will take place at immanuel.  the other strong connection i have enjoyed is the partnership for lessons and carols, which will take place on december 9^th at 3pm at st. mark hope and peace.  while lessons and carols has been put on by another group in the past, this year there is a small and strong group of us working on it. 

my role in this group involves coordinating and collecting donations for the silent auction.  the silent auction this year will likely be different from other silent auctions you may have experienced in the past.  instead of relying only on expensive donations like trips to mexico (which we will definitely accept if it's offered), we are relying on a variety of donations. 

in our seminary community, we don't necessarily have much money or financial resources for big ticket items at silent auctions, so usually what shows up are things people made, offers for dinners, skills in teaching or tutoring, etc.  having attended my fair share of silent auctions, i realize that silent auctions are 1-more fun and 2-more effective when more people are involved both on the donating and bidding sides.  

in our kansas city community we have many gifted people and as we’ve been finding out our strengths and gifts for ministry at immanuel, i’ve been realizing how many wonderful gifts this community has to offer.  because there is such abundance in this community, our silent auction will reflect that diversity.  thus far, we're looking at donations of massages, lessons in how to change a toilet or play the harp, gifts, training sessions on computer/internet programs like facebook (privacy settings, anyone?), excel, dropbox, blogspot, etc., baked goods, dinners, cookies every month for a year, consultations, yoga class, house cleanings, babysitting, etc.  when we actually get down to business, the possibilities are endless!!

i am really excited about lessons and carols all on its own, but with the creative collaborations going on for the silent auction especially, i'm now ridiculously excited.  this is also your warning, if you're interested in bidding on anything, i might be willing to right your bid down (and if it's something i'm donating, i could probably do/make an extra whatever you bid on, to make sure you can get it) and bid by proxy for you if you're not in the kc area.  

if you want to help support the awesome ministries of st. mark hope and peace and st. james catholic church and would like to donate something for the silent auction, please let me know and i'm happy to coordinate your donation for you!  if you are around or thinking about coming around, aim for december 9th at 3pm and i will see you at what is sure to be an amazing lessons and carols!