jesus was a jerk - mark 7:24-37

my sermon manuscript from this past sunday's sermon, on mark 7:24-37

²⁴From there [jesus] set out and went away to the region of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there. Yet he could not escape notice, ²⁵but a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately heard about him, and she came and bowed down at his feet. ²⁶Now the woman was a Gentile, of Syrophoenician origin. She begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter. ²⁷He said to her,

“Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”

²⁸But she answered him, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” ²⁹Then he said to her, “For saying that, you may go—the demon has left your daughter.” ³⁰So she went home, found the child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.

³¹Then he returned from the region of Tyre, and went by way of Sidon towards the Sea of Galilee, in the region of the Decapolis. ³²They brought to him a deaf man who had an impediment in his speech; and they begged him to lay his hand on him. ³³He took him aside in private, away from the crowd, and put his fingers into his ears, and he spat and touched his tongue. ³⁴Then looking up to heaven, he sighed and said to him, “Ephphatha,” that is, “Be opened.” ³⁵And immediately his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly. ³⁶Then Jesus ordered them to tell no one; but the more he ordered them, the more zealously they proclaimed it. ³⁷They were astounded beyond measure, saying, “He has done everything well; he even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak."

-----

do you ever have one of those days where everyone seems to want or need something from you and you are just tired and need a break?  maybe you even take off for the week or a weekend, but still people seem to seek you out wanting who knows what?  and finally you get to the point where you just             snap.  one too many people have asked you for help, and so you tell this latest supplicant: no, you little dog, i have been giving, giving, giving, and i don’t have anything left for you.  what gives you the right to ask for anything??  and you turn your head, hoping she will recognize the dismissal and how tired you are and just leave you alone.

and then she does something amazing.  she stays.  she takes a deep breath and she says, “yes, ma’am or sir, I have no right, but even little dogs get scraps.”

your breath catches.  you just called somebody a “little dog”!  could you have been any more degrading?  probably, but it would have been hard!  and now, what do you do?  someone just called you out and did it respectfully.  you have two options:

1-dig your heals in, for better or worse you said what you said and you’ve got to stand by it; changing your mind or your words would just make you look weak. 

2-she is right, what she said called you out and maybe you do have just a bit more energy, and maybe, just maybe, god’s plan is bigger than even you could have imagined it would be.

jesus’ knee-jerk reaction is to dismiss the syrophoenician woman with derogatory name-calling. 

now, i know some of you probably don’t like hearing about jesus acting like a jerk, but it’s important to know that a key characteristic of mark is that jesus is truly human.  mark, more than any other gospel, really portrays jesus’ humanity, which helps us as the readers and hearers to be able to relate better to jesus because he feels more like us.   he feels human.

so, when jesus acts like a jerk to the syrophoenician woman, it could have been the end of the story; the woman could have just gone away to wait for some other miracle-worker or for death to free her daughter, but instead she chooses to confront jesus.  

hisako kinukawa points out that jesus’ hurtful comments were not necessarily born from a desire to harm the woman, but more likely, they were born from a tired jewish man raised in a culture that pinned the affluent gentiles from the city of tyre over and against the jewish peasants living around the sea of galilee.  everything about how he was raised taught him to resist and perhaps resent the people of tyre who used their money to exploit his people, his family, his neighbors. 

the problem is that he doesn’t really know this woman.  he may know that she’s greek, or gentile, and syrophoenician, but in his tired dismissal, he doesn’t take into account that she was probably one of those who, like his own people, lived in a small village, dependent on the whims of those who lived in the city of tyre.  her situation was not all that different from jesus’ people, though they lived in distinct places.

but jesus doesn’t know that by just looking at her.  it isn’t until the woman remains, answering jesus’ dismissal, with her own lived experience, that jesus begins to understand in a new way.  yes, the gentiles in the city of tyre may be dogs for the way they have exploited the israelites, but she is struggling just as those children of israel struggle every day; she, too, needs sustenance.  her daughter needs a miracle; just one, one little crumb.  she is not asking for a huge feast to be spread, she is asking for the crumbs, the dregs, the stuff that nobody else would want anyway. 

it is in this hope for nothing more than crumbs, that jesus is shaken awake.  by not only taking on his derogatory term, but also expecting at most crumbs, she awakens jesus to a new perspective.  she helps him to see a human being rather than a dog; a person with needs and pain and struggle.  

she helps him to understand his own context better as well.  jesus belongs to just one of many groups who are struggling against oppression, who are struggling for dignity in an oppressive economic situation. 

and perhaps the most important of all: through jesus’ encounter with the syrophoenician woman, jesus realizes that the Table is big enough.  the Table is big enough that no one needs to beg for crumbs, big enough that all are welcome to the feast.  but how does this even happen?  i know if somebody confronted me with the hard truth that i had just called them a “little dog,” i would be so taken aback i would probably just get away as fast as i could…which is one—of many—reasons why it’s really good that i am not jesus.

unlike me, when the syrophoenician woman speaks, jesus does the amazing thing of actually listening to what she has to say.  instead of digging in his heals or taking off, he stops and listens to what she has to say, to her story.  and so he begins to realize that his cultural context, how and where he was raised, really affects how he understands what god is up to.  from there, he is able to take the time to correct himself.  he said something offensive and instead of pretending like nothing had happened or trying to justify himself, he recognizes the need for a new perspective.  he changes his behavior and finds a new way to interact with the syrophoenician woman.

and so, as jesus leaves tyre and heads out toward the sea of galilee, jesus encounters a man who is deaf and has a speech impediment.  jesus’ reaction to this man reflects the change he has experienced because of the syrophoenician woman.  jesus still brings the man out of the view of the crowd, finding a more private place, and then he opens his ears and releases his tongue.  

because of the syrophoenician woman, jesus is beginning to open up to the idea of a god whose table is big enough for everyone.  he’s still not quite to the level of confidence that he’s willing to show anyone and everyone what he’s up to, so instead he tells those who are witness to the miracle not to tell anyone!  So, naturally, they tell everyone they can!  that seems to be when jesus really, really gets it. 

from there jesus will depart with everyone proclaiming what he has done.  jesus then goes with a great crowd in gentile territory and, recognizing god’s work of welcome, jesus feeds those gathered in gentile land—all those gathered—with bread and fish to sustain them.

in this short time, jesus transforms from a tired human being who calls a woman a dog without even thinking about sharing so much as a crumb, to one who shares not only the crumbs, but the whole feast with all people.

jesus realizes that this mission he’s on, this good news is for everyone.  the syrophoenician woman gives jesus room to grow and room to be changed by his encounter.  in listening to her words, jesus is changed.  he realizes that he was being a jerk and because he stops and listens to her words and her story, his understanding of god’s grace expands.  he realizes that the Table is big enough for all people and he gives us the room and the power to recognize the same thing. 

there are many times in my own life when i say the wrong thing, when i offend someone by talking without thinking, and even when i don’t speak for fear of saying the wrong thing or offending.  jesus is our light, our leader, setting the example.  he acts like a jerk, but then is able to stop and listen and change.  he allows the syrophoenician woman, her words, her story, her life to change him.  he lets his encounter with her, however badly it started out, be transformative for them both.

and jesus’ transformation provides the light so that we as his followers can let our lights shine, not in doing everything perfectly, but in our ability to also be transformed.  we are able to stop and listen, hearing someone else’s story, someone else’s perspective on life, and we are able to change; to recognize with jesus that god’s table feeds everyone, even the ones we call little dogs.

jesus chooses us: easter 6b

i'm catching up a bit...this is a sermon i preached back in may with acts 10 and john 15 as the main texts.

acts 10:44-48

⁴⁴while peter was still speaking, the holy spirit fell upon all who heard the word. ⁴⁵the circumcised believers who had come with peter were astounded that the gift of the holy spirit had been poured out even on the gentiles, ⁴⁶for they heard them speaking in tongues and extolling god. then peter said, ⁴⁷“can anyone withhold the water for baptizing these people who have received the holy spirit just as we have?” ⁴⁸so he ordered them to be baptized in the name of jesus christ. then they invited him to stay for several days.

john 15:9-17

⁹as the father has loved me, so i have loved you; abide in my love. ¹⁰if you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as i have kept my father’s commandments and abide in his love. ¹¹i have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete. ¹²“this is my commandment, that you love one another as i have loved you. ¹³no one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. ¹⁴you are my friends if you do what i command you. ¹⁵i do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but i have called you friends, because i have made known to you everything that I have heard from my father. ¹⁶you did not choose me but i chose you. and i appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last, so that the father will give you whatever you ask him in my name. ¹⁷i am giving you these commands so that you may love one another.

 -----

today we find peter with cornelius, a gentile centurion.  god has just shown peter that no thing god has made is unclean or wrong.  so, peter came, at cornelius’ invitation, to caesarea and he’s speaking to the gathered crowd about god.  this god is one who shows no partiality; who picks no sides, who declares all things clean.  a god who is neither democrat nor republican.  and while peter was still speaking, the holy spirit fell upon all who heard the word.

the truly astounding thing for the jews present, who were still trying to figure out what “no partiality” really meant was that the gift of the holy spirit had been poured out even on the gentiles.              

the gentiles!              

now, the gentiles were basically anybody who wasn’t jewish.  as the church was beginning to take shape, there was debate about the requirements for being part of the church.  since the church grew out of a jewish movement, the questions were things like: was circumcision necessary or unnecessary?  what was the place of the law?  did everyone have to follow the law?  what food could they eat?  what food was not allowed?  did they have to be jewish first in order to be christian?

the questions still exist today, but in different ways.  while we’ve figured out most of the early questions about stuff like circumcision, today we still ask who can be part of the church.  what language do you have to speak?  who do you have to love?  how do you have to love?  how much money do you have to make?  where do you have to live?  how do you have to live?  do you have to give money first in order to be christian?

we still ask with peter: what can prevent us from being god’s church?

nothing.

god still says:             nothing.

absolutely nothing can separate you from the love of god.

god stepped in with the early church, and god steps in with us as well.  

while peter was still speaking, the holy spirit tumbled down upon all those who heard.  

she didn’t wait until peter finished, or check if they were circumcised, if they followed the law, if they were jews.  the holy spirit came down on everyone,            even the gentiles! 

luckily peter already had his conversion to a god who shows no partiality and was able to ask the important question.  peter doesn’t always say the right thing, but this time he did.  he didn’t ask them to see if they were the right kind of people, if they did the right things, if it was the right holy spirit, instead he asked,

“can anyone withhold the water for baptizing these people who have received the holy spirit just as we have?” 

can anyone withhold the water for baptizing?  the holy spirit has come upon them and can anyone even consider withholding water for baptism?

the answer, of course, is no.  baptism is a gift of grace, freely given from a god who shows no partiality, and so peter orders them to be baptized in the name of jesus christ.

this grace is apparent also in the reading from john as jesus points out to us, his followers, “you did not choose me but i chose you.”  (v. 16) 

grace is a crazy wonderful thing.  we don’t get to choose who gets god’s grace and who doesn’t,           which is probably good,                        because then,    we might not make the cut ourselves!  jesus chooses.  he chooses you and he chooses me and then we get to ask the question.  it’s not “who did jesus choose?” but instead it’s “what did jesus choose me for?”  jesus chooses us to bear good fruit.  to love one another as he loves us.

jesus loves us and commands us to love each other.  how simple and how freeing that is!!  christ loves us into loving each other! 

now, don’t get me wrong.  love is hard.  it took jesus to the cross for us, and especially on mother’s day we can easily recall the difficult love of raising a child, of caring for children, both ours and those of other folks. 

love is work and it means pushing ourselves, but at its heart, love is freedom.  we don’t have to depend on anyone else for it.  love comes from god in jesus and jesus chooses us.  he chooses us for love.  jesus chooses us      even when we wouldn’t choose each other or ourselves.  even when we struggle to get up in the morning or we look into the mirror and do not choose ourselves.  no matter how unstable life gets, jesus has chosen us for love. 

right now the world is uncertain.  the environment is in deep need of our care, we’re going to be electing new leaders this year for our city, our state, and our country.  anything around us can and probably will change: our life, our church, our work, our community, but no matter what, the truth remains: jesus has chosen us.  he has chosen us for love and we are free to love each other, even when it means something as simple as loving each person as they walk in the door!

just as the early church struggled with understanding what it meant to be church and who could and who couldn’t, we struggle to grasp jesus’ love and grace for us.  and so the holy spirit fell upon all those around peter and the question was

“can anyone withhold the water for baptizing these people who have received the holy spirit just as we have?” 

today jesus tells us “you did not choose me but i                        chose                        you.” and he answers our question of “for what?” with “so that you may love one another.”

amen and thanks be to god.

week one: so much for easing into things

i arrived last friday and have been here for just over a week, so, i thought i'd look back at the last week or so of being here at immanuel lutheran church in kansas city, missouri (all of two or so blocks from kansas city, kansas).

the week started with a bang.

during early worship on sunday the power went out, not to come on again until our reception of new members at the beginning of late worship (quite the exciting start).

monday involved a press rally with congressman cleaver at the local grocery store and a visit from a fellow yagm and her family passing through to another fellow yagm's wedding.

tuesday was full of meetings: worship planning, staff, and then pastors' text study in the afternoon.

wednesday the newsletter folders came and while folding, i was jokingly informed that they "run this place" :) followed by a meeting with a group of women clergy and a hospital visit.

thursday consisted of supervision, lunch with a parishioner, and a meeting with clergy for communities creating opportunity planning an event (also known, in community organizing circles as an action, i believe).

and then friday the bulletin folders came (also known, on other days as newsletter folders) and in the afternoon i had time to get stuff done i needed to get done followed by a wedding rehearsal for the couple who became new members last sunday and then the wedding itself on saturday.

as you can probably tell, by thursday, i had to ask my supervisor when she has time to write her sermons!  life has been quite busy

the nra, guns, and god

being a colorado native, last friday night's shooting at the movies hit me in a different way than most, perhaps.  i was in middle school when dylan and eric went into columbine high school and opened fire.  we had family friends that went to columbine, i worked with somebody that went to columbine.  reading and hearing about last friday night also brought with it memories of gabrielle giffords, trayvon martin, and the countless victims of gun violence in my own backyard here in chicago.  friday's attacks were awful and tragic and any number of words that all feel too superficial to actually use as descriptors.  yet, not knowing anyone directly, or even indirectly (so far as i know), who was a victim or survivor of the attack, i also felt numb.  

so often i hear about gun violence, yet it tugs at my heartstrings a little bit less each time.  gun violence has become so common that the response is no longer "how many were hurt?" or "did anyone die?" but instead "how many were killed?"  it has become a relief to hear that there were injuries but no deaths due to gun violence!  that is not the way it should be!

then, it comes time to respond.  how do you possibly respond in the face of death?  president obama and mitt romney have removed their political ads from tv in colorado.  in light of the tragedy, it does seem right to stop with the attack ads.  both of them also expressed condolences and shared sympathies as fathers.  not being president or a presidential hopeful nor a parent, those are both out.  as a seminarian, reading psalm 88 today seemed right.  as a citizen, though, there is another response needed.

my deep sympathy and prayers are with all of those affected by the shooting in aurora last friday, and if you were affected directly, i hope that you take the time you need and seek out the help you need to get through this and to continue each day.  if you were not directly affected, if you felt numb when you heard or read the news, if you posted/tweeted/text-ed immediately your reactions, then i have a request of you.  they say that guns don't kill people, people kill people.  yes, people kill people, but loose gun laws make it a whole lot easier to do it.  this may be the time to stop political attack ads, but this is the time to change the politics we have regarding guns in this country.

the nra has plenty of money for lobbying, but we are plenty of people.  laws need to be changed.  there needs to be tighter restrictions on guns and ammunition as well as laws such as the stand your ground law.  if it is harder to buy guns, if there are less deadly weapons available, there will be a drop in gun violence.  it is not fair that the nra (whose views are more extreme than most of its members' views) continues to push for fewer restrictions and regulations on guns and ammunition.

this is not a red or blue issue.  this is an issue of safety for our streets, for our movie theaters, for our public officials, for our health care providers, for ourselves, and for each other.  now is the time to grieve and to mourn, but now is also the time to change.  change can come from laws.  congressional representatives and state representatives have power.  call, email, visit (if at all possible, this is the best option), get the facts on gun violence and then make your views known to your representatives, find out their views, make sure they know that you'll be paying attention to how they vote on the george zimmerman armed vigilante acts (this would require states to allow people like george zimmerman, the man who followed, shot, and killed trayvon martin, to get conceal and carry permits).  check out how your state is doing on strength of gun laws (colorado's at a mere 15 out of 100).

jesus did not carry a weapon, he was killed by one.  he did not advocate for violence, in his actions and his words he advocated for non-violence.  in matthew 5, jesus commands us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us.  we need healing and we get healing by repairing relationships, accounting for damage done, and finding ways to make sure the same thing doesn't happen again.  locking up james holmes will not solve the problem and will not heal the pain.  loving our enemy means finding a way to keep it from happening again.  it means praying for james holmes, that he might find help and that he might know the transformative grace of god.  it means working to repair our broken communities.  it means stopping gun violence.

like with so much else in our country and in our world, if we do not take steps now, in the immediate aftermath of the shootings, to change our culture of violence, to work to end gun violence, especially, then in a few days or a few weeks, the country will relapse, it will forget the tragedy, just like it has for so many victims of gun violence over even just the last year.  now has to be the time to act.

mixed feelings

today is a momentous day in a few different ways.

today, may 15, 2012 the lutheran school of theology at chicago's board of directors voted for lstc to become a reconciling in christ seminary, joining in the proclamation of the gospel with sister seminaries plts and ltsp, and many congregations, synods, and other organizations and colleges.  how exciting it is to be part of this process and to be part of a community that is committed not only to wanting diverse people of all sexual orientations and gender identities at lstc, but that is also committed to talking about our differences and engaging with each other so that we might all recognize each other as the beloved children of god that we are.

i am so excited that this process, which involved a lot of congregation has so wonderfully set the stage for a proclamation that calls us to continue and really get down to the messy business that is being church differently together.  i am also grateful for the huge amounts of support and leadership from so many people at lstc: students, staff, faculty, alum, and board members.  it has been a long journey so far and it is just beginning :)

at the same time, today was the last day that i will see gerry, jackie, and addie working together in the cafeteria.  after my last lunch, i dawdled, taking pictures, hugging, and trying to say good-bye in a way that was authentic to our experiences of working and being in community together.  leaving the cafeteria today was sad and i will deeply miss what it has been for me over the last two years.

i am also leaving today on the train to see my grandmother for what will likely be the last time on this side of death.  she is 91 years old and approaching the eleventh anniversary of granddaddy's death.  every time we would visit granny, she would take me to church with her and i would get so excited to go to mass with her and the coffee girls and then afterwards to go for coffee and pastries and to talk.  these women nurtured me in the faith in a way that i can never forget.

so, as i begin the long journey east to connecticut, i go hoping and praying that i am able to see granny one more time and that i am able to be present with her and simply love her.  she has journeyed a long and difficult road and in the last few weeks i have realized how little is left.  through it all, though, she has been my granny and i love her.

1 john 3:16-24

we know love by this, that he laid down his life for us—and we ought to lay down our lives for one another. how does god’s love abide in anyone who has the world’s goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help? little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action. and by this we will know that we are from the truth and will reassure our hearts before him whenever our hearts condemn us; for god is greater than our hearts, and she knows everything. beloved, if our hearts do not condemn us, we have boldness before god; and we receive from him whatever we ask, because we obey god's commandments and do what pleases her.

and this is god's commandment, that we should believe in the name of his son jesus christ and love one another, just as god has commanded us. all who obey god's commandments abide in her, and god abides in them. and by this we know that god abides in us, by the spirit that he has given us.

for me, this passage speaks to more than a pietistic "be nice" attitude.  this is serious!  we're talking about dying here!  now, granted, i have no idea what i would be willing to die for.  let's face it, until we're in a situation and faced with death, we can never know exactly how we will react. 

even so, for me this goes back to my j-term class, called "urban peacemaking in a culture of violence."  in the class we talked a lot about nonviolence as a way of life.  we met with people from ceasefire, a group working to end gun violence by interrupting conflict before it gets the chance to escalate and by educating youth.  we met with christian peacemaker team folks who are invited to conflict ridden areas to intervene, or get in the way, to help those who are in danger of violence.  we met with all sorts of people who are living nonviolently, or at least trying to.

one of the most profound things i took from the class was the realization that nonviolence is not a hobby, it's not easy, and it's certainly not without risks.  committing my life to nonviolence is not about being safe, it's about being willing to take the risks that those who use violence, in wars, in neighborhoods, in lives, are willing to take.  if i am not willing to risk my life to stop war and end conflicts nonviolently, then how much can i complain about war and the lives risked to stop war and end conflicts violently?  i have to be willing to put not necessarily my money, but my body where my mouth is; to lay down my life for another.

is the goal ever to die?  no, but if i'm not willing to do it, then the impact of my nonviolent actions is severely limited.  the impact of my love for another just as jesus loved me is lessened if my love does not include my life.

it doesn't have to start huge.  maybe it starts with intervening when a parent is at the end of their rope and yelling at the kid and just giving the parent a moment to breathe.  maybe it starts with intervening when somebody's kicking a dog.  like almost any time i've ever tried to follow god's call in my life, it starts small, but with a mind shifted and committed to nonviolence, then god gets to work and makes it huge.  god is amazing.  she always finds a way to make anything i try bigger and bigger until it really is a way of life for me; a part of who i am.

there and back ... or here all along

a few weeks ago in systematics we talked about heaven and hell and whether they were real and if they were what they were like (a place in the sky/below the ground, some other universe, a recreation of this place, etc.).  one of the things that came up for me was that a lot of folks i know don't necessarily believe in hell as a place you could go when you die (or if they do, they don't think anybody actually ends up there), but there is a lot of support for the concept of "hell on earth." 

soldiers have talked about it for years, being in the trenches, in the fighting as being hell on earth.  queerfolk have talked about living closeted in an extremely oppressive context as hell on earth.  people in abusive relationships have talked about hell on earth.  especially if the understanding of hell is a place without god, children who are victims of neglect can know hell on earth.  so, while i don't necessarily believe in hell as a place of fire and brimstone where people could end up when they die, i do believe in hell as something that can (and does) happen here and now in our lives.

but what about heaven?  general consensus seems to dictate that heaven is a place where "good" people go when they die, a place in the sky, a place with god always, a new jerusalem, any number of things.  but what if neither heaven nor hell is that kind of a place?  what if heaven is also a place on earth?  when we got into that line of thinking in class, our ta, gretchen, called "heaven on earth" moments kairos moments. 

kairos is one of two words for time in greek, the other is chronos.  chronos means time in the sense of a clock or calendar; it's the primary way that we refer to time here in the us.  kairos, on the other hand, means time as in god's time.  the fulfillment of god's time. kairos is transcendent.  it occurs where/when god comes and lifts up.  this understanding connects with heaven as the place resurrection happens.

heaven is not a place far away (though it could be that too), heaven is the kairos moments of life; the resurrection moments.  this means, also, that resurrection is not just something that happens after we take our last breath.  resurrection happens here and now. 

heaven on earth is the peace that comes in a community gathered to celebrate and rejoice in god's work calling us together.  heaven on earth is the feeling of wholeness that comes from being told, you--the whole you--are called to ministry and your gifts are various and diverse and your queerness is a gift for ministry!  heaven on earth is the sunset over the mountain tops after as you sit watching and talking with a dearly beloved. 

heaven on earth is the moment on easter morning as the sun is rising where i am 100% certain that christ is risen and any moment all the dead will rise to walk the streets of life!  heaven on earth is when you hear, feel, taste god calling you into wholeness, into a vocation.  heaven on earth is that feeling in parker palmer's definition of vocation as "This is something I can't not do, for reasons I'm unable to explain to anyone else and don't fully understand myself but that are nonetheless compelling." 

heaven on earth is the moment the hell of the closet, the trenches, the isolation, the despair leaves and your chest, which has been so bound and restricted by the tightness of stress and anxiety and depression, loosens as you begin to breathe again the deep, full breaths of freedom and love.  heaven on earth is when that hug you've been needing, but have been unable to ask for, is given and tears flow and you are held in loving arms. 


i think that many times heaven on earth comes soon after escape from hell on earth.  it reminds me of giving birth (or what little i know of it).  from what i know the act of giving birth is like sitting on a stick of dynamite--that seems like hell if i ever knew it--and yet in the moments after giving birth, the first glimpses and sounds and feelings of new life can come heaven on earth.  the way to truly escape the hell on earth moments is with heaven on earth--kairos.


what is your hell on earth?  what is your heaven on earth?

hoodies, hijabs, and just plain racism

the news:

Trayvon Martin, a young black 17-year old male in Florida was wearing a hood walking out of an all white neighbourhood when he was shot by George Zimmerman in cold blood. His choice of weapon: Skittles and a can of ice-tea
Shaima Alawadi, a 32-year old Iraqi mother of 5 in California was brutally beaten inside of her home with a iron tire, alongside her unconscious body read a note from the perpetrator that said, “go back to your own country”

the reason:

racism.



so, i've been doing a lot of thinking and processing, and lamenting over the last few weeks and trying to figure out how to make sense of the news of trayvon and shaima's deaths.

the thing is: i can't.  they don't make sense.  they do (racism + extremely racist rhetoric and backlash, especially since obama's election + terrible new laws and government policies --> death by hate crime).  i know why these two (and so many other) people died, but it still doesn't make sense.

as a white person, i have no idea what it's like for white people to just see me and make assumptions about who i am and what my life is (or is not) worth based on their perception of my race.  as a white person, other white people see a person, not a white person.  i don't look suspicious in a hoodie (even if i try) or a hijab (i do look a bit out of place in one, though).

as a queer woman, i know what it's like for people to look at me and check my chest to make sure i'm a woman.  as a queer woman, i know what it's like for people to judge me based on my haircut and gender presentation rather than who i am.  as a queer person, i know what it's like to have to listen to homophobic and heterosexist comments from people i know and from people i don't.  as a queer woman, i know what it's like to hear sexist comments and not know how to challenge, stand up to, or stop them.

as a white person who is trying to be anti-racist, i know what it's like to hear from another white person a racist comment and not know exactly how to challenge the racism without making the person defensive, but trying anyway (and not always doing very well at it).  as a white person who is trying to be anti-racist, i know the difficulty i still have in talking about race and naming racism as racism.

as a human being, a child of god, my heart breaks when i hear of violence perpetrated against others, myself, and the whole of creation.  as a human being, a child of god, i affirm with martin king that "injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere."  when there is injustice somewhere, there is no justice anywhere.  my bubble, my part of the world, is not a bubble of justice if your bubble involves injustice.

as emily, white, queer, able-bodied, lutheran, woman who is trying to be anti-racist, i know i am a sinner and cannot save myself.  as emily, white, queer, able-bodied, lutheran, woman who is trying to be anti-racist, i know i am a saint and have to hold onto my hope and trust in a god who saves us all.

what happened to shaima and trayvon was xenophobic.  it was racist.  it was wrong.  the way i dress, the way you dress, the way anyone dresses is not an excuse or justifiable reason to use violence.  in fact, there is NO reason to use violence.  it is wrong.  trayvon's death was a hate crime.  shaima's death was a hate crime.

i can't make sense of their deaths because they don't make sense.  and yet, i know why they happened.  in all of our public and political discourse in this country, we have forgotten what it means to be human.  we as a country have forgotten that women are people, not just baby-makers or ovaries.  we as a country have forgotten that people of color are people, not criminals or animals.  we as a country have forgotten that those who come to the united states now are people, not "illegals" and not unlike our ancestors (where in the last few centuries or the last few millenia).

we have, as a country, made our laws about gun safety consistently worse and worse (hence the "stand your ground" law in florida being used to justify why the man who killed trayvon has not been arrested or charged).  our criminal justice system is anything but just and certainly not "colorblind."  the rates of incarceration and the legal penalties for crimes are racist.

we as a country are not concerned about making things right after a crime (healing and restoring the communities and people who have been hurt by the crime), but instead we as a country are concerned about making people pay (punishing those who commit the crime with the "injured" or affected party being the united states government) with no concern for the communities and individuals affected.

shaima and trayvon's deaths should provoke not only national discourse about racism, islamophobia, and xenophobia, but also gun laws and criminal (in)justice in this country.  the only lobbyists regarding gun laws are the ones connected to the nra!

we need to be the lobbyists who will tell our elected representatives that we want stricter gun control laws, less weapons, no more extended magazines (as were used by jared loughner, the man who shot rep. giffords in arizona).  the only way for us to change laws is to become the lobbyists ourselves.  for too long we as a country have trusted our elected representatives to do what is in the best interests of our country and of the world.  nothing will change and they will not do that unless we pressure them.

call your representatives.  go to their rallies.  write to them.  email them.  meet with them.  protest them.  tell them your story.  vote!  it is the only hope we have of changing things through the government.  they will not change unless we press them to.

the only way we have of ending racism, islamophobia, and xenophobia is to talk about it.  nothing will change (for the better...things might change for the worse) if we don't talk.  we need to talk to each other and to others.  we need to share our stories and be human with each other.  without that, we have no hope.  this past week, i was honored to be a part of my seminary community's acknowledgment of the sin of racism and the impact it continues to have not only in coastal states, but right here in our neighborhood of chicago.  it was my proudest moment to wear a collar with my hoodie and to be together in solidarity mourning and searching for hope.


in, with, and under all of this, my hope and my trust is in a god who creates everything out of chaos and nothing-ness.  my hope and my trust is in a god who brings good news to the oppressed, binds up the brokenhearted, proclaims liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners.  my hope and my trust is in a god who, when the oppressive powers of the world hang god on a tree to kill him, responds with resurrection.

my senior year

i took this picture my senior year of college when i was in photography.  it was for the self-portrait assignment "my presence without me."  i remain amazed at how much this still holds true for me.  after spending a year in slovakia and now being in the second half of my second year of seminary in chicago, i still find myself drawn to these three things in my life.

my chacos.  my chacos go with me everywhere.  they let me be me.  i can travel basically all i want in them, they are comfortable and supportive, and they travel with me.  though i have now gone through at least one pair of chacos since the ones in the picture, i have somehow managed to keep the same style throughout the replacement pairs.

my chacos connect me to camp, to argentina, south africa, slovakia, new york, colorado; to home.  that is it!  my senior year of high school, when my parents split up, i lost my home.  home could no longer be the house i grew up in because only one parent lived there.  home became where i was and so my chacos have become my sense of home as well.

my journal.  to this day i write in my journal and it fits even more into this picture now than it did when i first took it.  while in slovakia i journaled every day.  some days were longer, some shorter, but i kept track of my experiences and what i was grateful for each day.  now, two years later, i'm re-reading my journal and the experiences i have remind me of who i am and have become.

there are things about slovakia that i remember and have become distorted over the years.  negative things grew and positive things shrank, but now, as i re-read i am reminded far more of the positives than of the negatives.  this is part of why i continue to journal; it helps me express myself and make sense of my day and the world around me.  and as i now end with tgi (what i am trusting, grateful for, and inspired by) and a place i've seen god, i put even my worst days into a bit of perspective.  not taking away the pain or the anger or the hurt, but adding back in a bit more of the hope.

not everything i experience can be described with words, but i have mementos glued in and sometimes resort to coloring or drawing to express myself and those assortments of colors, when i look back on them, certainly say more than a thousand words could have.

my camera.  my camera still goes with me.  it documents my life and through it i create art.  it helps me express myself when words just can't capture a moment or feeling.  as i shaved my head this week, i made sure to take pictures before, during, and after.  pictures will help remind me of the stories of my youth when i tell them to my children and grandchildren some day.  i remember looking at my mom's pictures from when she was young and i still enjoy looking through family photo albums and i cannot wait to share the joy of pictures with those who will be in my family (or "family") of the future.

don't it always seem to go

don't it always seem to go
that you don't know what you got till it's gone
they paved paradise and put up a parking lot 
                    (counting crows)

now, i realize that i am more tightly connected to the refectory than most others at school, but that also means that i know the power of the refectory better than many others.  the whole process of budget cuts envisioning has left me feeling a bit helpless in general.  this has improved as the president has begun to meet with students more regularly, but significant damage has already been done.  at the beginning of the year we did an envisioning exercise during which two themes arose (as i recall):

1-as students we both want and need more practical classes; we need to be able to connect our classes to our future ministry in real ways.

2-we want (and struggle to find) community.  with the busy schedules and myriad of activities available each week, it is not surprising that we have trouble with finding and creating community.  there are, however, two key places that community happens at lstc.  one is chapel.  as we engage together in daily worship, we come together with god and with each other to explore, to question, to struggle, to pray, to worship, and on wednesdays: to eat.  we share communion, community.

the other place that community happens is in the refectory.  throughout the bible and throughout my life food has been and continues to be something around which people gather.  a key component to hospitality, as sarah and abraham showed for the angels, is food.  food can just be nourishment, but when we come together to enjoy food and conversation, it becomes more than mere nourishment.

studies have shown that eating in front of a computer or tv is not good for health.  eating in community helps me and others to slow down in the midst of a busy day or week.  it helps me engage with others, catch up on life, be fed emotionally and physically.  as the refectory functions, with the amazing ministry of hospitality of gerry, jackie, and addie.  gerry gets what students are going through and works hard to make good food affordable.

one of my favorite times of the week happens each wednesday.  at 11:00 we head to chapel and as a community we hear the word preached and share the meal and then we flow over into the refectory for lunch and conversation.  this happens because of what the refectory provides.  there is food and drink, but more importantly, there is community.

staff and faculty reside in such different places, but all of us gather in the refectory.  not everyone utilizes the refectory, some people go home to make lunch, and i imagine they still will after the renovations and changes, but for now many of us come for a warm meal; for chicken pot pie, crispitos, quiche, and so many other delicious meals that gerry makes.

people come for the food and stay for the community, but if the food becomes the same kind of food that we can make at home for cheaper, then there won't be anything to bring people in the door and as much as we struggle for community now, that struggle will be even greater.  gerry works as hard as he does because he understands that what he does is ministry, but we will be hard-pressed to find another person who can run the refectory with the understanding that it is ministry.

i am afraid that we are paving paradise to put up a parking lot, but we won't know until it's too late to go back.  the refectory has been and continues to be a key ministry of lstc, but after may 15th i don't know what will become of it.  i will certainly lose a job, but i will lose a part of my ministry and i will lose my grandma, who i work with every thursday; my aunt jackie; and gerry.  the refectory is my family and that family is about to change and i'm afraid for what it will be changing into.

anxious hospitality

right now i'm supposed to be writing a paper for my ministry-in-context (mic, our version of field placement) class about congregational anxiety.  instead i'm going to blog about hospitality (there's a connection that i'm sure you'll get pretty quickly).

this weekend a friend from slovakia was visiting.  his sister (another friend) is studying abroad in washington and so he came to the usa to visit her and decided to also visit me in chicago while he was here :)  now here's the deal: one of the biggest parts of slovak culture that i remember is hospitality.  so many people showed me amazing hospitality.  there was always kava a kolačiky alebo keksy (coffee and cake-ish or crackers/snacks).  one of the big things i wanted to take with me from the year was a commitment to hospitality.  so, when i had a slovak coming to stay with me, i definitely felt the need to pull out all the stops. 

the problems are a few: 1-life is way more hectic than i would like it to be.  2-hospitality makes me anxious.  3-i'm living on student loans.

1-i tend to say yes to most things.  i know i'm an introvert and so i try to be intentional about participating in stuff.  that meant, however, that when my friend came, i had work the first day, my friend's ordination the third day, a meeting after church the fourth day, and class the morning he left (the fifth day).  i was busy.  we still got to hang out on friday and sunday, but i wish we could've hung out more and i could have really shown him more of chicago (it would also help if i knew more of chicago to show him, but i'm working on that).

2-i received such incredible hospitality in slovakia and i really want to show generous (maybe even extravagant) hospitality to others, especially slovaks, but it's hard.  i worry that i am not offering enough stuff, that i'm not spending enough time, that i'm not praying at the right times, that i'm messing it up.  i want to represent myself well, but sometimes i worry so much about it that i get in the way of just sitting and being.  hospitality is just so important to me that i have trouble getting it right.

3-complicating number 2, i don't have a ton of money to spend on hospitality.  i have a fair amount of food at my disposal (thanks to my job in the cafeteria and the leftovers i occasionally get to take home), but i don't have the means to pull out all the stops.  and yet, i try.  i try to buy dinner and make sure things are taken care of, but it too stresses me out.

so, i really appreciate hospitality and strive to be hospitable to others, but it's a stressful thing.  on top of all the rest, my roommate (or soon-to-be-roommate) is coming back to the apartment in two days (my friend left this morning), so there's a pretty quick turnover.  i'd like the place to be clean for her for a variety of reasons, but fairly back-to-back visits and travel makes it pretty tough. 

i was blessed by my friend, however, because sunday, when we decided not to go up the sears tower, he voluntarily (i tried multiple times to tell him it was fine or it was as good as it was going to get) did the dishes after lunch and then cleaned the stove!  he cleaned it better than it was when i moved in in august!  this morning while i was at class, he cleaned the sink as well!!  i struggle and i stressed and i did my best to be hospitable and yet he left my apartment far cleaner than when he found it and blessed me enormously by his presence, his friendship, and our conversations and time to reconnect (and, of course, the delicious slovak chocolate).

i am so far beyond grateful that others are way more gifted at both giving and receiving hospitality than i am.

god builds us a home in christ, advent 4

"Now when the king was settled in his house, and the Lord had given him rest from all his enemies around him, the king said to the prophet Nathan, 'See now, I am living in a house of cedar, but the ark of God stays in a tent.' Nathan said to the king, 'Go, do all that you have in mind; for the Lord is with you.'

But that same night the word of the Lord came to Nathan: Go and tell my servant David: Thus says the Lord: Are you the one to build me a house to live in? I have not lived in a house since the day I brought up the people of Israel from Egypt to this day, but I have been moving about in a tent and a tabernacle. Wherever I have moved about among all the people of Israel, did I ever speak a word with any of the tribal leaders of Israel, whom I commanded to shepherd my people Israel, saying, 'Why have you not built me a house of cedar?' Now therefore thus you shall say to my servant David: Thus says the Lord of hosts: I took you from the pasture, from following the sheep to be prince over my people Israel; and I have been with you wherever you went, and have cut off all your enemies from before you; and I will make for you a great name, like the name of the great ones of the earth. And I will appoint a place for my people Israel and will plant them, so that they may live in their own place, and be disturbed no more; and evildoers shall afflict them no more, as formerly, from the time that I appointed judges over my people Israel; and I will give you rest from all your enemies. Moreover the Lord declares to you that the Lord will make you a house. Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me; your throne shall be established forever."

- 2 Samuel 7:1-11,16

As we’ve moved through advent, nativity sets have come out.  We each have our own special place for the nativity set, whether it’s on a table in the living room, on the mantle, or by the front window.  Each year as advent begins, the pieces come out from their boxes where they have been kept safe: out of reach of children and pets.  And so, as the assembly begins, the sheep and the cows find their place under the shelter of the small stable, the shepherds are to the side with the sheep.  The magi, or kings, balance out the shepherds on the other side with their three gifts.   

The manger is, of course, front and center with its nice clean hay ready to hold the savior of the world.  Then the family appears around the manger, with the young, beautiful Mary, full of life with rosy cheeks appearing to have had the easiest time giving birth in all of history and handsome young, bearded, Joseph, with his arm lovingly wrapped around Mary gazing expectantly at the manger.   

And, finally, Jesus.  The sweet, little, close to a year-old-looking, baby, wrapped in nice, clean cloth, with his thick blond hair, blue eyed head peeking out, arms extended.

Advent is one of the best times to recognize our need to make God in our image.  So often in Christmas stories and movies and even in many nativity sets we find a Jesus made to look like many Northern European Lutheran ancestors. 

When we come up with images for Jesus, do we imagine someone from the Middle East?  Do we imagine Jesus in terms of dark, olive skin, rough, curly hair?  Or do we still imagine Jesus with blue eyes and blond hair?  The same can be said for how we think about Jesus’ titles.  Do we call him Savior?  King?  Friend?  Companion or Lord?  Christ?  What about Judge?  Decider?  Rebel?  Radical?

In today’s reading, David wants to build a house for God, a place for God to permanently dwell.  Now, maybe David’s intentions are pure, responding to God’s love and protection by building God a house…

But somehow, I think his intentions are probably not quite so pure, I know mine usually aren’t as pure as I would like them to be. 

By building a house for God, David would be constraining or limiting God; domesticating God, if you will.  He would be making God’s dwelling permanent, limiting the dynamic, transcending, and perhaps transient nature of God. 

I have to admit, I can relate to David’s desire to domesticate God.  I use words that are helpful in talking about God, like God is good and loving, and does good things, but those words are never.     quite.     enough.    because God is bigger than we could ever imagine. 

God’s ways are not our ways and so we are able to perceive only in part who God is and how God is.  God is so much more than I could ever imagine!  It’s like the Mercy Me song, “I can only imagine.”  I have no idea what it could possibly be like to be fully in the presence of God!  I have no idea what I will do, not to mention I have absolutely no clue what God will do, say, think, or even be!  

Thinking too much about the mystery of God can get pretty intimidating, especially with all of the examples in the Bible of God being angry or of God’s justice being understood as something to fear.  I want God to be my little pet that’s warm and furry and waits around all day until I come home and then loves and comforts me. 

That would be a pretty easy God to handle and then I’d know that God was always with me.  God would be in my house, waiting for me to get home and protecting me and my family.  Nice and safe.

But that’s not really what I want.  I want and, more importantly, I need a God who is not like me.        I mess up.       I am a sinner and I know that my good intentions can oftentimes be totally misguided, so what a blessing it is that God is not just like me!  I want a God who cares about others and not just about me.  I need a God who refuses to be domesticated!

So David wants to domesticate God, but then God steps in, asking “Do you actually think you can build me a house??  I haven’t lived in a house for all this time since I rescued my people from Egypt and I still don’t live in a house!  A tent, a temporary, movable dwelling has been fine for me all this time, why should it be any different now?  In all of my wandering with my people, have I ever complained??  Have I ever asked why y’all haven’t built me a house of cedar?”

God steps in, rebuffing David’s grand plan, and asks who David thinks is in control.  Who is David to build a house for God?  Who says God even needs a house??  It’s as if God is saying, “I don’t want to live in a fancy chapel, I’m fine in the campfire so I can dwell anywhere.”  God has been just fine in the sparks of the flame, in the dance of the smoke, in the crackling of the wood, and in the community gathered around it for all this time. 

As the Church, we understand ourselves to be the body of Christ, yet oftentimes we turn the body into a building.  We decide that the chapel where we worship is the dwelling place of God, it is: “God’s house.”  Yet in today’s reading, God tells David, and, indeed, us, that God is in no way in need of a permanent dwelling place.  God has been a wanderer with us since the Exodus.           God has no need and no desire to be confined to the building we use, we build, we choose. 

God turns the tables on this desire to honor, and perhaps control God, by restricting God’s space in our lives to a building.  God declares that God will build David a house, and God is the one who builds us a house.  God constructs a resting space for us. 

That resting space is not a rest that can be found simply in a physical space, it is a rest that goes deeper.  We come today to this physical place not to rest our feet after a long week of working or skiing or traveling, we come here to find a deeper rest, a rest for our souls, our whole beings, our life forces.

We might choose this place to meet together and we do encounter God in this place, but God encounters us everywhere!  As we gather intentionally, we get a foretaste of the deeper rest that God provides for us.  We come together to worship and praise and to receive grace abundant!  We gather at the table, common, tired people to receive the body and the blood, to receive grace and a promise of more to come.

In Christ, God has established a resting place for us and it is not in any building, yet it can be in every building.  Our house, our home, our rest is in Christ and in Christ’s body, which spans both space and time.  We are not called to build a place for God to sit, we are called into God’s house.  We are called into Christ’s body.  Our rest is to be found in Christ and in God’s rule, which lasts forever. 

God assures David with a promise, saying, “Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me; your throne shall be established forever” (2 Sam. 7:16).  Similarly Gabriel assures Mary that she will bear the Son of God, Jesus Christ, who will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and whose kingdom will have no end. (Luke 1:31-33). Like David and Mary, we look toward the future with Jesus to fulfill that promise.

In this Advent season, we await the coming of Christ as a small, defenseless child and we may prepare for Jesus by making a place for him in our nativity sets.  We can chose the way we make nativity sets, which ones we buy, where we put them, and we can choose how we imagine Jesus and even give him the kind of shelter that we see fit,        but Advent isn’t just about anticipating the arrival of the infant Jesus, it’s about anticipating the return of Jesus.  Advent is about awaiting Christ’s reign; eagerly looking to the time when God’s home will be everywhere and in every way.

Amen!

sacraments for all!!

this week in class we talked about the sacraments and luther's understanding of the sacraments.  the discussion that i found especially meaningful had to do with infant baptism and then what it meant for communion.  all of this is also in the context of two adorable kids i've been blessed to interact with the last few weeks at my ministry-in-context (mic) site.

this past sunday, one of the children (maybe 5 years old) came up for the children's sermon.  at my mic site the baptismal font is at the front of the church so that we pass it as we come up for communion.  the font has a fairly good sized clear bowl (with high sides) holding an inch or two of water.  as the child came up, he reached up on his tippiest of tip toes and reached down, just barely reaching the water with the tip of his finger.  after dipping it in the water, he brought his hand to his own forehead and made the sign of the cross on his forehead!

each week that i have helped with communion, one child (about 3 years old) continuously comes up for communion with her mom.  the pastor blesses her and she holds out her hands expectantly and her mom, after receiving a piece of bread from the pastor breaks her bread in two and gives a piece to her daughter.  the child is so eager for communion, but has to receive it through her mother rather than directly from the pastor!

the child remembering his baptism pointed to two things for me: 1-kids get the sacraments way more than we give them credit for (and, perhaps, way more than adults like me do!), and 2-we need more water in that font!!  each time the other child comes up for communion, i am reminded also that kids get the sacraments in ways many of us adults don't and i question what she is being taught as she has to receive communion by way of her mom.

luther argued for infant baptism for a variety of reasons.  jesus tells his disciples to baptize all in his name an children are part of that all.  also, baptism has been practiced from the beginning of christianity and infant baptism has lasted for so long that it can't be a heresy.  if it were a heresy, the holy spirit would've conveyed that by now and we would've stopped doing it.  god blessed children and has accomplished great things in and with them, so why shouldn't we trust god to work in them through baptism?  also, and one of the most compelling reasons for me, infant baptism affirms that we as humans don't contribute to baptism.  it's all god.  god's grace, not our effort, work, or initiative.

this then raised the question: why don't we do infant eucharist as well?  if we trust god to work in baptism, why don't we trust god to work in eucharist?  growing up, my family was the god family for another family's two kids and i distinctly remember at their baptism the priest (they were episcopal) telling as all that the candidates for baptism, following their baptism were welcome to come and receive communion as well.  baptism into christ's death and resurrection - baptism into the body of christ; followed almost immediately by communion, christ's body broken for all of god's people.

when a child comes to me with hands open eager to receive communion, i will have a really, really hard time not just giving it to them.  no matter what i will seek out a conversation with their parent(s)/guardians as soon as possible.  if we deny children communion, are we not denying christ as well?  are we not denying god's power and grace?  i can't help remember my sermon from christ the king sunday last week: christ frees us to encounter christ in everyone everywhere.  christ frees us to encounter christ in the least of these.  if children are not the least of these, i don't know who is.  communion is at christ's table and we are just recipients: god gives we receive, who are we to try to control god?

word and sacrament for all!

according to luther all of us, through baptism, have the authority to preach the word and administer the sacraments!!  for luther, this meant that even in his time, when women were not allowed to be pastors, they were allowed to do emergency baptisms (since it was primarily women who were present for births as midwives and there was a high infant mortality rate, this was a really handy position for luther to have). 

this ontological sense of calling to word and sacrament ministry has strong implications for what it means to be an ordained minister.  all of us are called as a priesthood of all believers, some of us are called to ministry in teaching, farming, banking, etc., while others are called to ordained word and sacrament ministry.  after all, if everyone has the authority to preach the word and administer the sacraments, then why is there even a need for pastors?

in a simply practical sense: it's necessary for someone to be appointed, because if everyone did it each time, it would be total chaos.  instead, from the community we pick people to represent the community in the preaching of the word and the administration of the sacraments.  because the call to word and sacrament ministry is a call for all, no individual can just usurp the position.  no person can say "I'll do it and no one else."  The call must come from the community as well, which is why the elca candidacy process is so nice and complicated.  many other churches have a simpler policy, yet the elca's candidacy process is one of mutual discernment for individuals and the communities calling them to ordained word and sacrament ministry.

one of the really cool things about ordination is the role with respect to the sacraments.  ordination is not considered a sacrament itself, at least not for lutherans, but because ordination to word and sacrament ministry includes administrating the sacraments, those who serve in this capacity function as a means of the means of grace.  the sacraments are understood as a means by which we experience god's grace, so those who administer them are a means for them.  what an honor it is to be called to a life as the means of the means of grace!

since, as i already mentioned, all of us are priests, a calling received at baptism, we each have the possibility to be the means of the means of god's grace.  indeed, we can daily be the means of god's grace in our interactions with each other and with ourselves, but we also can be the channel through which god's grace is experienced in a tangible person-to-person interaction and in a tangible sacramental interaction.  the sacraments bring us all together and in our gathering we choose people, recognizing and affirming their gifts, to administer the sacraments on behalf of the whole community. 

christ frees us to encounter christ the king sunday

“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left.

Then the king will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.’

Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’

And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.’

Then he will say to those at his left hand, ‘You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’

Then they also will answer, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?’

Then he will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’ And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.” 

 -  (Matthew 25:31-46)

Before starting seminary, I spent a year with the ELCA’s Young Adults in Global Mission program in Slovakia.  During the year, I worked with Roma, or gypsies, and non-Roma, or gadje, in after school programs, youth group, and church. 

During orientation for my year, we were told that as we went to our countries of service, we were not going to bring God to the people there.  Instead, we were going to find that God is already at work in and with the people we were going to serve.

It wasn’t about trying to be Christ’s presence for others, trying to be, as Martin Luther said “little Christs.”  It was about recognizing Christ in those we were to encounter.  In the family I lived with, the youth I worked with, in the Roma, discriminated against because of things they could not change, in the “gadje,” trapped in the role of oppressor, discriminating because they knew no other way. 

How hard it was for me to see Christ in those I disagreed with. 

Salvation meant something completely different to my host parents than it did to me.  The gadje youth who distrusted and joked about the Roma youth I connected with so deeply.  The Roma youth who spoke bitterly of the gadje youth I also connected with so deeply.  I struggled to see Christ in each person I encountered while I was in Slovakia.

Even harder, though, has been coming back.  I have been back for just over a year now and each day I struggle, much of the time forgetting, to recognize Christ in those I encounter on a day-to-day basis.  Sometimes I wish God could give me one of those big orange highway signs, but instead of “men working” it would say “Christ working.”  But that’s what this reading is.  This reading is our “Christ working” sign, making sure we know that God is working and Christ is in, and indeed is, all those around us.

Although this reading has oftentimes been used to encourage people to acts of charity, its radical nature lies not in what people do, but precisely in where Jesus is found.  Jesus says, “Truly I tell you, just as you did (or did not) do it to one of the least of these, you did (or did not) do it to me.”  Here, Jesus fully identifies as the “least of these.” 

Jesus!

the Son of Man

king

Lord

the Christ

fully identifies in humanity. 

He doesn’t just say that we should treat each other nicely, he says that as we treat others so we treat him.  Our interactions as humans with other humans are no longer simply person-to-person, they are interactions with Christ. 

Neither the group on the right nor the one on the left really gets what Jesus is talking about.  They respond to Jesus’ declaration of what they have or have not done by asking when exactly this took place, because they don’t seem to quite recall it.  The two groups are simply living their lives, yet Jesus surprises them as he reveals that their actions were not ordinary actions, but were actions done to Christ. 

“Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me,” the king answers the group on the right.  

 “Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me,” he tells the group on the left.  Christ is in those that each group encountered daily. 

Now I can use my resources to buy fair trade, but if I am motivated more by pity or guilt than by love and recognition of Christ in those who grow the coffee beans I buy, then what does it mean?  In the reading for today, we find the climax of Matthew’s identification of who exactly this Christ is.  We find that Christ is “the least of these.”  Christ is not there to encourage “good behavior,” but to be the “other.” 

Like the people in today’s reading, Christ surprises us when Christ is present in the “other” we encounter each day.  Christ surprises us and frees us to encounter Christ in the Starbucks barista. Christ frees us to encounter Christ in the blue line train operator taking us to work or school each day.

Christ frees us to encounter Christ in the person who cuts us off in rush hour traffic... and in the person we cut off in rush hour traffic.  Christ frees us to encounter Christ in the annoying person on their phone on the bus.  Christ frees us to encounter Christ in the gossiper, the snitch, the teacher’s pet, the reject, the goth, the popular one, and the athlete. 

Christ frees us to encounter Christ in the person asking for money or food at the Kennedy Expressway exit. Christ frees us to encounter Christ in the person unwilling to give even spare change or a sandwich to alleviate our hunger.

Christ frees us to encounter Christ in the classmate who is harassed and bullied each day ………and in the bully who knows no other way to feel good than to bully.  Christ frees us to encounter Christ in the neglected.   the abused.   the addicted.

Christ frees us to encounter Christ in the 99% and in the 1%. Christ frees us to encounter Christ in the Republican, the Democrat, the Independent, the Tea Party-er, the Occupy-er.

Christ frees us to encounter Christ in the lesbian woman, the straight man, the gay man, the transgender woman, and the precious child of God still questioning and exploring who they are and whom they might love. 

Christ frees us to encounter Christ in the homeless, the home-blessed, and the homebound.  Christ frees us to encounter Christ in the hospitalized, the disabled, the temporarily abled, the differently abled.

Christ frees us to encounter Christ in the one behind bars, the one keeping others behind bars, the one who should be behind bars, and the one who is free............. But what about Penn State?  How can we possibly encounter Christ in Jerry Sandusky, Coach Joe Paterno, President Stanier, the survivors, the students rioting and those holding vigils? 

Christ frees us to encounter Christ in the Christian, the Jewish, the Muslim, the Buddhist, the Atheist neighbor. Christ frees us to encounter Christ in the Native American, the Caucasian, the African American, the Latina/o.  Christ frees us to encounter Christ in the recent immigrant, who shares a room with five to ten other immigrants some with papers and some without all scrimping and saving money to send back home to put food on the table.

Christ frees us to encounter Christ in those who have power over us and in those over whom we have power. Christ frees us to encounter Christ in our children, our siblings, our parents, our grandparents, and cousins.  Even when we are stressed by all of those gathered around our tables and TVs with food to be shared.  As we look ahead to Thanksgiving and Christmas, it is easy to be overwhelmed with the prospect of so many people in one space at one time, and yet Christ is there and frees us to encounter Christ among all the chaos!

Christ frees us to encounter Christ in the parking lot, in the playground, in the Three Brothers’ Garden, the hospital, the nursing home, the office building, the grocery store.  Christ frees us to encounter Christ as we come together today to be fed.  Christ welcomes all to a common table to share in the feast—the body and blood of our Savior, uniting us in one body—to receive God’s grace in the midst of this community.

Christ frees us to encounter Christ in each other and Christ frees us to encounter Christ in ourselves. Christ frees us to encounter Christ everywhere because Christ our King’s reign is   just.       that.        big!

Amen!

we are the church!

one of the coolest things to come from the reformation and martin luther is luther's doctrine of the church, specifically when it comes to who the church is.  at the time of the reformation, the common understanding of the church as very hierarchical.  in this model, the clergy were considered the church.  luther flipped this understanding on its head.  instead of the church being clergy, the church was the people!

the people!!

i don't know if you realize how awesome and crazy that is!  even today we have trouble understanding who the church is.  luther used the german word gemein(d)e which is church as in a community, a group of people, a congregation.  this is more in line with the greek word ekklesia, which means an assembly and is the word used in the new testament to refer to the church.  in the greek, ekklesia refers not just to any assembly, but a democratic assembly.  a place where the gathered people have voice!  in today's (lutheran) church, we have gotten away (to greater or lesser extents) from the idea of church as clergy and very hierarchical, but i don't think we always remember the church is the people.

usually when i talk about church, it's understood that i'm really talking about the chapel or building where worship takes place.  i say i am going to church, not i am the church, or even better: we are the church.  in today's day and age with so much focus on the economy and possession (whether it's those that have not sharing or those that do not demanding it), we have even made church into a possession.  the dynamism of a body of christ is lost in the church as a building concept.

to bring back the understanding of us as church, we not only have to let go of our obsession with possessions, but we also have to let go of our "rugged individualism."  christianity is a communal religion.  we are called into community and understood as a unique community of god in the world.  throughout the epistles, we as the church are identified with christ's body.  we have a plethora of diverse gifts, yet christ's love for us and our loving response unite us.  this means that we are to be radically countercultural as we concern ourselves with the well-being of all of us, not just 1% and not just 99%, but all 100% of us.  we are the church!

this also means that if you or i don't like something the church is doing, there's a really simple solution: do something different!  if we are the church (which we are), then what we do is what the church does and what the church does is what we do. 

a couple weeks ago we celebrated the reformation, a time when people didn't like what the church was doing.  instead of complaining, though they did list their complaints, they changed what they were doing, causing the church to change.  in that case it resulted in a split, but there have been smoother changes in the church as well.  in the elca, we didn't like what the church was doing, so there was a movement to begin ordaining women again (after all, there were plenty of women leaders in the early church) and to recognize and affirm the gifts for ministry of people of all sexual orientations and gender identities.

change inevitably brings anxiety as we enter into a new unknown, but we are the church and so we must change as the holy spirit continues her amazing work in and through us.  may we rise to the promise: we are the church!