Lent 4A -Easier Not to See

As I prepare for this week's sermon on John 9:1-41,

I think about the blindness in our society.

We cut off

disability benefits,

collective bargaining rights,

unemployment benefits,

protection for our environment.

And, yet we still fight two wars

and one "non-war."

We consume.

We use.

We burn.

We blow up.

We divide.

We bicker.

We hate.

We do not see.

We do not see.

We do not see.

One thing is clear to me in John's gospel story.

We cannot be sent into the world

if we cannot see it.

We cannot heal it

if we do not love it.

We cannot.

We must first see.

Our eyes are closed,

though.

There is too much to see

sometimes.

To see

is to love.

To love

is to act.

To act in love

is to heal

and not kill.

I wonder if we are ready

to wash in the Pool

of Sent.

But I pray to God

to rub our eyes with holy mud,

made from earth

and holy spit,

and to open our eyes

to new sights

that cannot

be unseen.

This is the Gospel of Our Lord:

To see.

Lent Theme: Unclutter ______

A "Season of Sabbath" is what I unwisely decided to name our theme for Lent at the church I serve. While it gets to the point that I want to make, the word "Sabbath" isn't a compelling word for a lot of people. Moreover, people aren't going to cease from their labor for a whole season.

A few weeks ago, I was visiting a friend's house and saw a television commercial (I don't have broadcast TV, so I see very few commercials) from publicstorage.com. It is called "Accumulator." This ad made me gasp (you may watch it after the jump).

I know that the idea of uncluttering our lives is not a new one for Lent, but I have always found the thought of uncluttering *my* life to be a rather individualistic approach to the season. It's also pretty person-centered and not particularly God-centered. Sabbath, on the other, hand is really about God. God ceased from labor, and so do we. God rejoiced in creation, and so do we. God delivered us from slavery, and so we care about the labor of others. Sabbath begins with God; we are invited into God's rest, God's joy, God's justice. And, we are invited all together. Not individually. What does this have to do with accumulation, you might wonder. Well, at the heart of the Sabbath ethic is the idea that we take only what we need and leave the rest for others. In Exodus, before the people have been given the Law by Moses, they are told to gather manna. They are instructed only to take enough for one day and to take only enough for their household. On the sixth day, they may gather enough for two days and no more, that they may rest from their labor as God rested on the seventh day. This manna rule - this story about accumulation - is about clutter and rapaciousness. It is also about fear.

We often gather things into our lives out of fear. Fear drives us to look upon other people as wholly different from ourselves, and their "otherness" allows us to treat them as we could never bear to be treated. Fear tells us to hoard - food, clothes, things that need casting away. Fear compels us to upgrade, upsize, and get the next big thing. Fear whispers to us that there may not be enough food, so eat! Fear tells us that others want what we want, so build fences, install alarms, and post cameras. Fear can be found at the root of much of American anxiety. And, it is at work in our emotional lives as much as it is at work in our physical lives.

Because of fear, we hold on to wounds, grudges, and prejudice. This emotional clutter drives us to a kind of emotional or spiritual rapaciousness. People can need love so much that they put themselves in physical danger. People may repeat hurtful relationship patterns that they have lived through in their past. People may be afraid to seek or extend forgiveness. Both of these are very dangerous. To know we need forgiveness without the humility to seek it robs a person of healing and continues the original misdeed into the future. To be unable to forgive keeps both the offending party and the offended party held hostage to a past that cannot be changed. And, it sends them both into the future to carry that wound forward into the lives of others.

Fear drives people to greed and to unchecked accumulation. If there is one thing that Americans need to learn to do, it is to let go of accumulation as a cultural value. To do this, we, as a whole culture, must begin to examine our fears and to challenge them.

Sabbath does just this. It provides a wholly different approach to the world that trusts in abundance and in God's guiding presence. Sabbath makes no room for fear; it is too busy making room for the "other" - for the stranger, for the neighbor, and for all of creation to thrive. Lent is a season that invites the Christian to examine all that obstructs us from God's presence. What fears hold us captive? What fasts do we need to take on in order to enter into God's kin-dome (Isaiah 58)? What spiritual practices will bring us near to God? What habits need cultivating that will foster our authentic selves and dispel our false selves? What priorities do we need to establish in order to see the stranger as our neighbor and to treat our neighbor as ourselves? These are deep questions of faith. They do not ask us to find new ways to store the accumulation in our lives. They challenge us to pare down that which does not serve God.

God has gifted us with life, but it is our holy and sacred challenge to sort out how to live it. Lent is a time of justification. But it is not a time for navel gazing. Lent, as a time of preparation for the convert or repentance for the Christian, challenges us to re-center ourselves in God's glory, that we may be born from heave and raised with Christ come Easter morn. These phrases may mean little in our secular world, but they simply mean that through the process of re-centering, re-focusing, uncluttering, and prioritizing, we can let go of the vices of this world in order to be born into God's vision for this world. This rebirth gives us God's eyes with which to view creation and God's heart for all of creation. And, by this rebirth, we are raised to new life as Jesus. The powers and principalities of this world - the powers of sin and death - cannot hold us prisoner any longer because we live in a world ruled not by scarcity, not by sin, not by death, but by abundance, right relationship, and life. This is to what you are invited. And, we don't get there by accumulation. We get there by trust and through service. A new way of living altogether.

Ashes, Lent, and a Changed Life

Look around. Our world is messed up. I don't care where you live, how rich you are, or how educated you are, you have been touched by this messed up world. Lost jobs. Government that is (at best) ineffectual and (at worst) corrupt. Revolutions. Melting ice caps. Insurance premiums. Children shooting children. Religious people wielding religion to heap violence on others. It's a messed up world. Filled with violence, despair, and greed - rapacious greed. Ash Wednesday couldn't come soon enough for me this year.

Lent is the most holy time of penitence on the Christian calendar. Traditionally, it is a time for potential converts to assess the true desire of their hearts and their willingness to live the Way of the Cross. Historically, it has also been a time for those within the Church who have strayed from this Way to repent, to humble themselves, and to seek forgiveness. Every year I can get a little (as my mother used to say) "too big for my 'britches.'" And so, this season gives me a chance to remember my place in the world. Neither better nor worse than any other person. A sinner. A blessed child of God. A human being yearning for something more, something better, something whole.

For the past week, I've felt especially melancholy. I've not felt competent at my job. I've felt frustrated with unfulfilled ambition. I've been angry at myself for not completing important goals that I've set for myself. Today, I woke up a different person, ready to have ashes imposed on my head, reminded that I have been gifted this one life to live in God's presence, for the sake of God's work, and nurtured by God's Gospel. I woke up ready to give up the ongoing struggle with my humanity and to embrace it as a pathway to wholeness.

I woke up ready to be changed. That's what ashes do. They remind us to be humble. They call us to mourn for lost opportunities, for wasted choices, for lives lived less fully than they could be lived. These burnt palm leaves remind me that we - all of us - are part of God's beautiful world, completely insignificant to it and vitally needed for it - both at the same time. When the ashes touch my head and I hear God's voice say, "From dust you come and to dust you shall return," I know that I am part of a salvific history that began long before I was born and that will exist long after I'm gone. I have one life. This life. My choices are important in this life. I cannot go back and change my life. How I decide to live each moment has an infinite number of consequences. And, yet, I am but dust. It is a wonderful paradox. A paradox of which I need reminding in the most tactile way - with ashes on my head.

We live messed up lives in a messed up world. If that were the beginning, middle, and end of the story, we would be hard pressed to want to be here at all. We also live these messed up lives in the presence of a healing, transforming, saving, earth-shattering God. A parent who welcomes us home after transgressions. A friend who accompanies us on foolhardy paths. A teacher who instructs us to live better. A critic unashamed to tell us to do better. A breath that infuses our lungs. A poem that inspires our hearts. A lion that protects her cubs. A fountain that overflows with living water. A tree that grows fruit for the body and leaves for the healing of the nations. A word that comforts the afflicted and afflicts the comfortable. This is our God. This is our Gospel. It is with us in the "mess-upness" of our lives.

When the ashes touch our foreheads today, we look at all of the "messed-upness" of our world and in our lives. We look it squarely in the face. We take responsibility for broken relationships. We acknowledge the errors that we have made. We do not flinch. We can take it because we are empowered by our God. And then we enter Lent. We wander in the wilderness as did Jesus - as did the Israelites. During our 40 days, we may cry for how things were. We may not trust that God is creating change in our lives. We may want what we do not have and hoard what we do have. But God is at work. God is pulling us out of slavery and is preparing us for freedom. God is using this wilderness to disorient and then reorient us. God is challenging our understanding of unholy work - work done for Empire, for greed. Work done without restraint or constraint. Work that harms us and other. And God is preparing us for another kind of work. Holy work. Work that begins by stopping (Read Exodus). Work that uplifts the whole community. Work that recognizes limits. Work that never seduces us into believe that we are gods. Holy work transforms community. It makes space for the widow and the orphan. It welcomes the stranger. It leaves time for family, play, and worship.

I am so happy to have arrived at Ash Wednesday. I am not a unit of labor. I am not an awful person. I am not a god. I am not bad. I am not good. I am a human being of infinite worth among 6 billion other humans all of infinite worth. That's a lot of infinite. That's a lot of worth. Thanks be to God.

Confession - Ability, Humility, and Giftedness

I am heading home after a difficult day at work. Nothing bad happened. I actually accomplished a lot. The snow didn't drive me homewards. I wrote a letter of recommendation, talked to someone about a wedding, prepared for and led a church meeting, worked on a jurisdictional event, prayed, and did general office work. Yet, sometimes I wonder what gifts God has given me, and I am never sure if I use them to the best of my ability. I've been struggling with living a much deeper spiritual life - trying to stick to fixed hour prayer, praying an hour a day for my church, and being more intentional about my body and health. For all of that, and it has been fantastic, I still struggle with things. Are they idols I won't let relinquish? Or, is it humility that I want only the best for the people I serve and to whom I attempt to minister?

As I look back on this note, I notice the word "struggle" is overused, but it is the correct word in every place. What is this struggle about? And, how can I stay in it to the end where I, hopefully, will find a new strength and trust in what I can do, find strength in what I actually do, and trust how God uses me in the world?

I sometimes wonder if I'm the only one I know who lives with internal struggles. Don't get me wrong: I'm strong-headed, pretty sure of my intellect, and I have firm beliefs about certain things. I'm not a pushover. But, in those deep places of the soul, there remains an uncertainty about a lot of things in which I believe I should be more grounded. On good days, this manifests as awe. I ask, "How is it that I serve a beautiful congregation that deeply loves God and yearns to serve the world?" I marvel that I've been entrusted with people's stories, their joys, their pain, and their hopes. On other days I doubt.

In a struggle for faithfulness, I hope that I am not doubting God. Yet, in a way, I know that must be what is happening. In doubting my giftedness, am I not also doubting God's ability to use this cracked vessel of a life that is mine? I suppose that this is a confession: "Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief." Perhaps someday, maybe even tomorrow (?), I will face the world in awe instead of fear.

God and Dog - Wendy Francisco

Living a life of simplicity isn't as easy as it sounds. Being open to the world, to love, to life, and to all of God's abundance is a challenge for most of us. I've read a lot of books, many of which have been helpful and many of which sit on my bookshelves filled with profound thoughts long forgotten. Every now and again, I run across something that is just true -

Dr. Seuss had a lot of wisdom in his writings.

When my cat sits in my lap and purrs - now that's pretty wonderful, too.

When a baby breaks into a smile

or when I can smell Fall creeping in from summer -

these remind me of life's simple graces.

Wendy Francisco has a new book based on her video and song "God and Dog." Some people may find reasons to fault this simple song/book, but I loved it. It made me smile. And, I think the world is short on smiles these days. Thank you, Wendy.

Micah 6:8 - Prayer by Walter Brueggemann

As I prepare for worship this week, I recall Walter Brueggemann's prayer delivered on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day in 1999. It is based on Micah 6:8. You may find this prayer in Brueggemann's book "Awed to Heaven, Rooted in Earth."

"Deliver us from amnesia

God of peace,

God of justice,

God of freedom,

We give you thanks for your cadences of

peace, justice, and freedom,

Cadences that have surged through the lives

of Martin

and Ralph,

and Rosa,

and John,

and Hosea,

and Jesse,

and Andy,

and all that nameless mass of risk-takers who have been

obedient to your promises

and susceptible to your dreams.

Deliver us from amnesia

concerning their courage in the face of violence,

their peace-making against hate,

and their hunger for you in a devouring economy.

Deliver us from amnesia:

turn our memory into hope,

turn our gratitude into energy,

turn our well-being into impatience.

That these same cadences of your will may pulse even among us.

Amen."

Epiphany A - Something Dark

Something dark happened yesterday. A shooter walked into a Safeway in Arizona and let loose a barrage of bullets that killed six people, including a federal judge, a former social worker turned Congressional aid, and a nine year old girl. The target of the shooting was Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords.

Every week when we assemble in worship, someone in this room brings something dark with them. During prayers of the people, we pray for people going through divorces, people living with addiction, nations and peoples torn apart by strife and war. We pray for people living with cancer. We lift up the names of families living with tragedy upon tragedy: suicides, deaths, financial ruin. The world is not short of dark times.

January 6 was Epiphany. Twelve days after Christmas Day, the Church celebrates the arrival of the magi or the Wise Men at the house of Mary and Joseph where they bring gifts to the Christ-child. Herod, who was the King of the Jews, was frightened by the news that a new “king” may be born. He called the Magi to him and commanded them to collaborate with him in eliminating this threat. Just a few verses later (16-18), Herod, in an attempt to quell his competition, sends his men to kill all boys of Jesus’ approximate age. This passage is often called the Slaughter (or Massacre) of the Innocents.

This political setting is important if we are to grasp the truly amazing nature of Epiphany. We cannot hope to experience the power of the light, the power of the revelation, the faith of the Magi, or the love of Jesus’ parents without fully grasping the peril in which they find themselves. Unlike Luke’s Christmas story, which is filled with angels singing, shepherds proclaiming, and cloths swaddling, Matthew gives us a grim tale of Jesus’ birth. Matthew begins with 17 verses of family lineage and then a few short sentences of verbal contortion to show how Jesus could be both the son of the Holy Spirit and Joseph. Joseph then has a dream that tells him not to put Mary away from him even though she is pregnant and then the birth, as such, which goes like this: “24 When Joseph woke up, he did what the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took Mary home as his wife. 25 But he did not consummate their marriage until she gave birth to a son. And he gave him the name Jesus.” That is the entire Christmas story. No inn. No wrapping him in swaddling clothes. No census. No manger. Stark and dark.

Into this walk the magi. The only thing we know about them is that they came from the east, they interacted with Herod, they brought gifts, and they fled. However, the lack of detail about them does not diminish the power of their witness. The story of the magi is filled with meaning: what they mean - what Epiphany itself means - is that by the power of God’s light the Word of God is revealed to all the world. Epiphany, the word, comes from the Greek word “epiphaneia,” which means “manifestation” or “revelation.” Epiphany is the celebration of God’s revelation or manifestation in Jesus the Christ to all the earth. God’s light splits the darkness of the world, and by its power, draws us near to the divine - even if we must walk through perilous places to get there, even if we must confront and be confronted by the powers and principalities of this life in dangerous and threatening ways. The magi, after giving Jesus their gifts, went home by another way, knowing that Herod sought them for no good end. Gregory the Great believed that this story meant that once we have come to know Jesus, we are forbidden to return the way we came to him. This story is about finding a new path in life - a path directed by God’s light, filled with God’s revelation, and known by our gifts.

God’s light does not ask for us to pretend that dark forces are not at work. The magi understood Herod’s nefarious intentions and responded to them. But, as the forces of this world try to keep us living in death and in fear, God’s light leads us by another way.

Whether one watches FOX News or MSNBC or listens to NPR, we are hearing spin on yesterday’s tragedy. This is tragedy upon tragedy. More than anything, what is happening in our public sphere causes me deep sorrow because in the midst of the darkness of our world, I see glimmers of God’s light at work in the world, desperately trying to lead us by another way. Is there not a less vilifying way to engage in public discourse? Is there not another way to discuss health care, immigration, abortion, taxation, trade agreements, government funding, homosexuality, and other difficult issues than to evoke mental images of Communism, Naziism, or Anarchy? Has the church no role in standing up and crying out for us to go by another way, and, by our own witness and example, show that God’s manifestation changes how we live in the world? People are hurting and our public discourse does nothing more than heap salt into wounds. We are not pursuing a common good. We are not lifting one another up in love and comfort. We are fighting like children, using grown up language and grown up tools. This is a dangerous combination.

Every day I receive articles - in magazines, online, and in periodicals - that talk about the demise of mainline Christian Protestantism. We live in a time and place that is suspicious about organized religion, that sees the hypocrisy in denominationalism, that shrinks away from choosing one “brand” of Christianity - or even religion - over another. But I know that the church is needed more than ever to bear witness to God’s manifestation among us. Our voice is needed to stand outside of partisan politics and to declare that there is another politics that claims our lives - God’s politics - and that this organization of public life relies upon personal and social holiness and leads to radical transformation. It is our holy and sacred duty to be strong in our Gospel proclamations and yet also humble, that we not fall into the hubris of believing we own this Gospel. We do not. It is something at work in our lives and in our congregations, changing us, leading us by God’s light onto paths down which we have not yet tread or mapped. This light leads us to confront governments that oppress and slaughter the innocents. It leads us to give the best of what we have and all that we are to the service of God’s holy and blessed word known and manifest in the weak and fragile bodies all around us. God’s light illumines our path and sends us into life by a different way, unable to return down the same path by which we came or even to remain the same people who first began our journey. The church is needed to be a place where soul conversation can rise above the partisan conversations that frame too much of our public discourse. The church is needed - the real church - the one that will repent when it is wrong, that seeks unity in God’s holy light, and that moves forward without apology to God’s holy dwelling place.

Something dark happened yesterday. And it will happen again. Today, tomorrow, and every day after that. But something light is also happening. And by this light, all the earth might be changed. We celebrate this light as we celebrate Epiphany, which begins a season filled with stories about call, transformation, and holy vocation. Walk this path with me. I would love to walk it with you. And, maybe at the end of it, we will wonder at God’s work in the world. Amen.

Christmas Children's Play - Sun, Moon, Star by Kurt Vonnegut

You know you pastor a cool church when the Christmas play is "Sun, Moon, Star" by Kurt Vonnegut. There are many Christmas pageants and plays for purchase. Many of them are very clever and funny. Most of them have nothing to do with Christmas. They are gimmicks contrived to "do something new with an old story." More precisely, they are gimmicks used to get churches to buy yet one more thing. Perhaps this reveals why I don't work in theater, but I think that the Christmas story is pretty interesting just as is. Angels, shepherds, birth, animals, stars, songs, love, danger, political intrigue, poverty, and riches - it seems to me that the original story has everything in it that a major blockbuster movie needs to be successful. Yet, I'm not beyond finding new ways to bring this most wonderful story to both children and adults.

Some authors who have found new and profound and even silly ways to tell Christ's birth include Madeleine l'Engle's "Sky Full of Children," which is all about creation, stars, and wonder. In it she asks, "Was there a moment, known only to God, when all the stars held their breath, when the galaxies paused in their dance for a fraction of a second, and the Word, who had called it all into being, went with all his love into the womb of a young girl, and the universe started to breathe again, and the ancient harmonies resumed their song, and the angels clapped their hands for you?" Sky Full of Children is a chapter within her book on the Incarnation called "Bright Evening Star."

Leo Tolstoy also writes about the meaning of Christmas in Papa Panov's Special Day.

Frances Tyrrell took the old Canadian/Native American Christmas song "The Huron Carol" and turned it into an illustrated children's book, which is pretty outstanding.

Author Mark Francisco Bozzuti-Jones and illustrator Shelly Hehenberger offer us a tale that rests on John 1 in their book "Jesus, the Word."

These are not plays, per se, but they are tales that may help people enter the Christmas story afresh. I have seen all of these turned into plays in one way or another.

Of course, I am a pastor, and I think the best Christmas story is found in the Bible. To be specific, I am most moved by Luke's story (sorry Matthew).

Here's Kurt narrating his own story.

Christmas and START - Dreaming of Peace

The New Start Treaty is making progress toward a vote in the Senate, despite maneuverings among Republican leadership to grind the process to a stop. This treaty is necessary to maintain oversight over Russian and US nuclear arsenals. It steps in and takes over where the old Start treaty left off when it expired. And, it calls for reduction of nuclear warheads by both countries.

I remember as a child sitting in elementary school classes when we had bomb drills. I remember living in a town with a Strategic Air Command air base and listening to the regular sounding of the siren that would, perhaps, warn us of incoming missiles. These memories are part of me. In our world of increased terrorist threats and decreased personal liberty, I find the idea of the New Start Treaty very reassuring. In a country deeply divided by partisan politics, I find something uplifting that nine Republican senators have broken ranks with their leadership to advance this treaty.

This week I am frantically finishing Christmas Eve bulletins. Our Advent theme at Woodland Park United Methodist Church has been on "peacemaking." We have hung photos of peacemakers from around the world in our sanctuary. We handed out peace cranes to people so they would be reminded of peace every day. We have sung of peace, preached about peace, and prayed for peace. We hosted conversations with leaders from other cultures and faiths to discuss peace in their philosophical traditions and to dialogue about the obstacles their communities face regarding peace. Peace is on my mind, and, fortunately, has burrowed itself in my heart this Advent.

The New Start Treaty, as flawed as it may be, is about peace. It is a tangible work by two governments to advance the idea of peace. This is a rare thing. I hope those senators who understand themselves to be Christian will think about the connection among peace, Christmas, and this treaty. This week the Senate can do something quite sacred. It can make real in the world, if only in an incomplete and finite way, this peace for which we all yearn. They can make their faith real by voting to reduce the threat of nuclear war. I hope they will. I don't want the generations that follow us to have the same kinds of memories that I have of bomb drills and fear of strangers. I dream of a better world. I believe in the Prince of Peace. And, I hope my fellow Christians who are senators do as well.

Republicans, Christmas, Partisanship, and Governance

It may not surprise anyone who reads this blog where my political leanings lay. However, I try to keep this blog from being a divisive place. On the whole, people pretty much want the same things: meaning, safety, a sense of home, belonging, and peace. People - rich and poor, Democratic and Republican, people of all colors and hues - yearn for wholeness and completeness, and they dream of a world that is better than the one in which we currently live. We may not all agree on how to get there or exactly how that dream looks, but in the main, I don't think people are as far apart as we are generally portrayed.

Given that paragraph on unity, I now move into dangerous territory - political territory - a partisan landscape that is fraught with ideological land mines, presumptions, coded language, and suspicion. Yet, as I labor to prepare the people in the church I serve to welcome the Christ-child, Emmanuel, the Prince of Peace, my heart is heavy and my soul wearied by the theatrics that are taking place in Washington, D.C.

Both parties play childish games, hold up processes necessary for governing our nation, and resort to name calling. It is disgust of both parties that compels many people to identify as "Independents." The childish maneuverings of people who should otherwise know better push the potential voter into a malaise from which it is difficult to be shaken or moved. Many potential voters in our political process stay home rather than choose between two evils on election day.

Yet, the Republicans have taken a no holds barred approach lately - an approach that I feel compelled to denounce because they have now invoked my faith, my religion, my Savior, and my holy festivals in their political high jinks.

When the Republicans won the House and made gains in the Senate, Senator Mitch McConnell (R-KY) made this statement to the National Journal, "The single most important thing we want to achieve is for President Obama to be a one-term president." While he appeared to ease back from that statement in an interview on FOX News, it seems that his party has not backed off it at all. They have been playing the obstructionist role with great verve. First, they would not allow any legislation to progress until passing a tax bill that includes an extension of the Bush tax cut for those making over $250,000. Once they won this battle, they did not step aside and allow other legislation fair hearing. Up next in their sights were the Health Care bill, DADT, the START Treaty, the Dream Act, and the omnibus bill. South Carolina Senator Jim DeMint went so far as to demand a reading on the floor of the Start Treaty, something that has been available for review for eight months. Senators John Thune (R-SD) and John Cornyn (R-TX) called a press conference to decry the wasteful spending and pork in the omnibus bill -pork they themselves put in - and when pressed by reporters why they were making hay out of a bill they helped draft and over earmarks which they requested, they fled the podium. Their basic defense: Yes, we put those in, but we're going to vote against this bill because it's full of pork. Even in an interview on Republican-friendly FOX News, Senator Cornyn did not give a cogent reason for requesting earmarks and then voting against them. But none of this is what drove me to write this post. What drove me to this post was the Republican invocation of Christmas as a reason to cease the work for which they have been elected.

Vice President Joe Biden has some feisty words for Republicans hiding behind Christmas (below). In Senators Thune and Cornyn's press conference regarding the omnibus bill, Senator Cornyn cried foul at the Democratic leadership jamming and cramming this bill down the necks of the newly elected at a time when they would like to be "shopping" and spending time with families. He seemed unconcerned with the families affected should the government grind to a halt. He seemed utterly distant from the realities of what occurs when the government is not fully funded and cannot operate even for the sake of national security. He seemed ignorant of the irony in allowing people to go unpaid and vital programs unfunded so that he can go home and celebrate the birth of Jesus, a poor child who would grow into the one whom Christians profess as Savior - healer and redeemer - of the earth. Moreover, he seemed completely ill-informed that Christmas doesn't begin until December 25 - not before. Christmas begins December 25 and lasts for twelve days. It does not begin in October or at Thanksgiving or a week before - it begins on December 25. That gives him plenty of time to do the work for which he was elected. Moreover, at the prospect of a post-Christmas Day session, Senator Jim DeMint rebelled against Senator Majority Leader Harry Reid (D-NV), saying that such a session would be "sacrilegious...deeply offensive to me and millions of working Americans across this country." And Senator Jon Kyl complained that coming back after Christmas would be "disrespecting one of the two holiest of holidays for Christians and the families of all of the Senate."

As a working American and as a professed Christian, it is deeply offensive to me that people elected to be stewards and leaders of this nation and all that is in it are playing games with people's lives and with our security - and using the Prince of Peace as the one to hide behind. It is offensive to me when we cannot make steps toward peace by ratifying the START Treaty because it may give President Obama political leverage and because it may interrupt shopping. It is disrespectful of their office, of our nation, and to this Christian when people "use" the name Jesus to further their own self-interested partisanship to the detriment of the least, the last, the weakest, and the most vulnerable - the very ones to whom Jesus comes.

When Mary discovers that she is pregnant, she offers one of the most poetic proclamations of biblical faith when she gives God glory in singing what has come to be known by Christians as The Magnificat. She says:

My soul magnifies the Lord,

and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,

for he has looked with favor on

the lowliness of his servant.

Surely, from now on all

generations will call me blessed;

for the Mighty One has done

great things for me,

and holy is his name.

His mercy is for those who

fear him

from generation to generation.

He has shown strength with

his arm;

he has scattered the proud in

the imaginations of their hearts.

He has brought down the

powerful from their

thrones,

and lifted up the lowly;

he has filled the hungry with

good things,

and sent the rich empty away.

(Luke 1:46b-53)

If the Republican Christians in the Senate need to read something on the floor, I ask them to let the atheists, Muslims, and Jews head home and for them to stay and read Mary's song. Perhaps it will instruct them on who they are to be as Christians, and then perhaps they could spend some time in reflection before defaming the name of Jesus the Christ in the course of their political reindeer games.

I close my rant with a re-rendering of the Old Testament Reading from Advent 3A (December 19). The prophet Isaiah is speaking to King Ahaz, who does not trust God and who will not do as God says.

Isaiah: Hear then, O house of David! Is it too little for you to weary mortals, that you weary my God also?

Katie: Hear then, O party of Reagan! Is it too little for you to weary mortals, that you weary my God also?

Conversations in Peace - Interfaith Advent Gatherings

This Advent my church has taken advantage of growing relationships with other faith communities by inviting representatives from other faiths to come and facilitate conversations on/in peace. For three of the four weeks in Advent, a representative from a mosque, a Buddhist monastery, and a synagogue came to the church that I serve to lead a conversation about the basics of their tradition, the nature and character of peace within their tradition, and then each discussed challenges their communities face in attaining peace.

It has been holy time. We began with a representative from Islam, who spoke about salaam and its centrality within Islam. He discussed what jihad is and how its meaning has shifted through time. He talked about gender, politics, and the historical relationships between Islam and Judaism as well as current realities of being a Muslim in America today. The following week a person representing Tibetan Buddhism came and talked about the Four Immeasurables, what it means to belong to a religion in which there is no god, what deities are, and the function and role of prayer. He talked about the causes of suffering as well as what karma and merit are. Last, a representative from a Conservative synagogue came to discuss Judaism, shalom, shalem, prayer, ritual, the Sh'ma, commandments, chosenness, and the challenges that confront both Jews and Palestinians.

As a pastor, it has been my intention for these talks to achieve a number of things. First, as Christians prepare their hearts and minds for the birth of the Prince of Peace as well as preparing ourselves for the Second Coming of Christ, we have to ask ourselves what peace is and how it manifests in the world. Peace is not an abstract idea, which we sing about in sweet carols about a sweet baby who lives in a sweet family surrounded by sweet animals and sweet shepherds. Peace is concrete. The power of the Prince of Peace is that Christians profess that peace is coming into this world embodied in the poor, born in squalor, proclaimed by the destitute; it struggles into life. Peace does not just "happen." It is birthed - painful and real, embodied and messy. It is perhaps one of Christianity's greatest gift to the world to profess that peace is real, it comes to us, and it is messy and embodied and it has ramifications for all of creation. So, this Advent, as our nation struggles with divisive politics, as North and South Korea rattle swords, as personal liberties in our own country continue to dwindle, as peace in Jerusalem seems further and further away, I thought it important to take a long look at peace - within Christianity and around the world.

I also wanted us to "make" a little peace this Advent. One of the most powerful and efficient ways to make peace is to look upon another not as a stranger but as a friend. Through these conversations, people did not discuss "Muslims," "Buddhists," and "Jews." Rather, people heard about life stories from real people who live real lives and who share in the same human drama as do all people. Strangers became friends through the sharing of stories, through laughter, through questions asked and answered, and through the lifting up of hopes and dreams. People named the challenges they see to achieving peace, and we sat there together fully aware that we could not make peace come to all humankind, but we could experience the common humanity of those in the room. Just by sharing space with someone who looks, dresses, acts, prays, sings, eats, and lives quite differently, a little peace was made this year. I think the Prince of Peace would like that.

Last, Christians - especially mainline Christians - often struggle to name who they are as Christians - to know what it means to live guided by the Prince of Peace. As similar as many of the religions represented are, there are significant differences between Muslims, Buddhists, Jews, and Christians. I hoped that these conversations would help Christian participants better know themselves and our own traditions. All three of the presenters, when asked what Christians should do to be peacemakers, replied, "Know your story (book) (roots)." All three people from other faiths encouraged Christians to better know our scriptures, our traditions, our rituals, and our histories. It was heartening to see a Muslim tell Christians that we would be better followers of Christ if we read our Bibles and became instructed in it. It was wonderful to see a Buddhist tell Christians that he thought we would find ourselves enriched if we learned our own traditions well. It was important to see a Jew help Christians see that Jesus was a faithful Jew, and that to be his followers, we need to know what Jesus' Jewishness meant/means.

As we close out the third week of Advent and enter the fourth week and welcome Christmas into our hearts, congregations, homes, and world, what are we doing? For what do we gather? For whom do we wait? What is meant for us in the singing of the Magnificat and the Benedictus? What are the implications of God's holy peace for how we live our lives, how we see the world, and how we greet the stranger? As the candles are lighted during Silent Night, do we wait for that mystical moment when God's holy vision is fully realized and all the earth is completed in grace and love? That is peace. That is shalom. That is salaam.

May the peace of Christ be with you this and every day.

Phyllis Tickle - Spiritual Disciplines Video

Advent is wholly concerned with time - the beginning of new time and the ending of old time. Throughout Advent, Christians prepare their hearts for the coming of the Christ-child and for the second coming of Christ the judge, who comes to right the injustices of this world and to redeem the brokenhearted and downtrodden. This season is often confusing for many lay people. When the apocalyptic stories from both the Old and New Testaments are read, people are left wondering why such strange stories are being told during this season of waiting for "Sweet Little Jesus Boy." Yet, to be a faithful Christian is to learn to live in a different time - time that ushers in an end to the pain and injustice of this world in order to make way for the fullness of time lived completely in God. So, while there is much joy in Advent and Christmas, much hope, much light, and much to sing about, there is little "sweet" about these seasons that bear witness to God's light of peace piercing the darkness of our world. One only need read the Magnificat or the Benedictus to learn the core meaning of this most precious season.

Christians - faithful Christians - discipline their lives for living in different time. From prayer to special holy days to rituals that bind us to the past while making room for the future, it is our holy and sacred duty to continually place ourselves in a receptive posture to receive the gift of God's holy time.

Here is an excerpt from an interview with Phyllis Tickle, in which she talks about the power of spiritual disciplines to bring us into God's time. I hope you enjoy. As I continue to work on my doctoral project about Sabbath, I will post more and more videos from those who have gifted me with their wisdom. I thank Phyllis more than she can ever know for spending this day with me and for sharing in laughter, in story, and in life. From one Southerner to another, I can say honestly that "she's good people." Thank you, Phyllis.

The question I ask tonight is, "How is Advent helping you reshape time?" Or, perhaps, "How is the time of Advent reshaping you?"

Advent Candle - 2A

Advent Candle Prayer

Holy are you and blessed is your name, Lord God, creator of the universe.

This day we seek your kingdom - where the wolf and the lamb shall live together and

all of creation will live in harmony.

We find this kingdom by following a child who will lead us in the way of peace.

Bless us as we light the candles on this wreath.
that we may see your light of peace shining in the darkness.

Amen.

God's Shalom/God's Kingdom - Sermon Isaiah 65:17-25

This week we marked Veteran’s Day, first known in the US as Armistice Day. It falls on November 11 every year to commemorate the ending of formal hostilities of the First World War, which concluded on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month in 1918 with the signing of the Armistice, even though the Treaty of Versailles remained some months away. President Woodrow Wilson declared November 11, 1919 Armistice day, and it became a national holiday in 1938, with a proclamation that the “day be dedicated to the cause of world peace and to be thereafter celebrated and known as 'Armistice Day'." In order to honor those who had died in World War I, it highlighted the immeasurable value of real and lasting peace. However, by 1953, the United States realized that the Great War indeed was not the War to End all Wars. We had fought yet another world war and had become mired in Korea. A new declaration was made that changed Armistice Day to Veterans Day, a day to honor all veterans of all wars. Today, it is common to honor all who have served this country - in times of peace as well as war. But I think of the 1938 declaration that established Armistice Day as a day dedicated to the cause of peace.

It seems that countries highly value visions of peace when they are made acutely aware of the cost of war. Yet, when the ravages of war are removed from their purview or are exploited for political purposes or gain, countries easily betray visions of peaceful civic society, of the common good, of international accord. Peace becomes derided as an utopian dream of the foolish and the childish. For the sake of real life, we are told to sacrifice this hope on the altar of the pragmatism of adulthood. We will not attain peace - at least not this kind of peace - we are told. It is more realistic to let this vision go and to adopt another, lesser vision. Often times a lesser vision presents peace as the absence of personal sacrifice or discomfort. This peace is a numbed state - a kind of stasis. To reach it, we may hurt other people, engage in unjust practices, or create unjust and inhumane policies. The goal, you see, is to remove any threat that might bring personal or tribal or national discomfort, ill ease, pain, or loss. Yet, this is not the peace of our Bible, of our religion, or of our God. Real peace is not known by the absence of risk; it is known by its willingness to risk for the sake of the weakest, the least, the last, and the lost. Peace is not just an end result of some process. Peace is also the process of living. Peace is both process and result.

The Hebrew word “shalom,” which we translate into English as “peace” cannot be translated easily. It is a rich word with many nuances. It means completeness, wholeness, safety, fullness, and welfare. It is relational; peace happens within communities and among people. There is an understanding that shalom is joyful and happy. When used as a verb it means to “make right” to “make amends” and even “to pay the price.” The Talmud says that "The entire Torah is for the sake of the ways of shalom." The rich heritage of shalom - of peace - cannot be reduced to the lack of armed conflict or to the baseline goal of a numbed existence.

As the Israelites return to their broken city Jerusalem after years of exile, they come without a strong sense of collective religious and cultural identity. They find a city without strong leadership and struggling its way out of ruins. And, the Temple, destroyed by invaders, has not been rebuilt yet. The symbol of God’s love, covenant, and ability is in ruins. The joy of freedom gives way to the hardships of creating a new society. This section of Isaiah is for their ears. It is written as hope for their future. It is a vision of what life may be like for a people filled with uncertainty and despair as well as hope. It is a vision of God’s shalom incarnate in Jerusalem.

Isaiah’s prophetic tradition gives the people of Jerusalem a very specific blueprint by which to rebuild their society. He offers a concrete plan for this new earth that God is creating, in which Jerusalem will be a joy. Infant mortality, mourning, homelessness, and oppressive tenant farming will have no home in this new earth. In this new earth, there will be no distinction between predator and prey; they shall live in harmony. One will not devour the other.

It is vital for Christians to understand how important Isaiah’s vision and others like it are for Christianity. In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus is portrayed as a new Isaiah. At his first public teaching, he reads from Isaiah 58 and 61, which announce the year of the Lord’s favor, the Sabbath year, and he declares that in the presence of those in the synagogue on that day that God’s Sabbath year, God’s holy vision for God’s people, is present in him. It is a bold proclamation, and we, as followers of this Jesus, as confessors of this Christ, need to understand this. In the Hebrew scriptures, this vision is known by the word shalom. In the New Testament, it is referred to as the “kingdom of God.” And, it is for this shalom - this kingdom of God - for which Jesus lives, dies, and for which he reigns today.

Jesus receives Isaiah's vision and he brings it to Galilee hundreds of years later. He brings it to us today, another 2,000 years later. Jesus came proclaiming God’s kingdom. He came proclaiming it with all that he was: with his teachings, through his healings, by breaking bread, in his compassion, by feeding others, in raising the dead, in restoring communities, and by his own incarnation. When he was met with violence, he did not respond with violence. God’s peace - God’s kingdom - cannot be brokered through violence.

As the body of Christ, is our mission any different? As Christ’s hands and feet on Phinney Ridge in 2010, is this vision of shalom - of God’s kingdom or society - any less needed? Are there those, even in this room today, who don’t need to hear it proclaimed that in the midst of your ruin, God is at work to build something new? In our city and state, with looming deficits, do we not need a vision of a society that cares for the common good? Governor Gregoire has called for an across the board $500 million cut to programs next year. We face a $4 billion deficit next year. We have a state budget that is currently 70% constitutionally protected. By and large, that leaves programs that deal with the least, the last, the weakest, and the lost to be cut.

Isaiah’s scripture is about public policy as much as it is about a poetic picture. Peace is about public policy as much as it is about high ideals. Following in Isaiah’s tradition, Jesus came into the world with a different public policy, one that challenged the injustices of his day and ours as well. God’s kingdom threatens the kingdoms of this world; God’s vision of a new society threatens the established societies of this world that depend upon unjust and unholy practices for the sake of a few at the expense of the many. The role of the church is to be the conscience of the community. It is our job to stand with the least and to believe with God that a new earth is being built - right here among our ruins, even as we struggle to envision what that new earth might be. It is our sacred duty to be a joy in a hurting world, to proclaim a way of life in which children do not die before their time or come to calamity, in which the tears of mourning and oppression are dried, in which the homeless are housed, in which the farmer no longer toils for a task master. We are called to hold before the people a vision of peace that roots in the heart, manifests in our local communities, and is extended for the sake of international accord.

If Veterans Day is to be a day dedicated to the cause of world peace, and if we want our country’s treasures to be spent and our families’ blood to be spilled only when absolutely necessary, the church must lift its voice in line with Isaiah and Jesus, holding up a vision of peace for which we aspire. Peace is not an idle dream of the foolish, unless we believe God to be foolish. Peace is not a state of safety achieved at the expense of others’ welfare. Next week is Christ the King or Reign of Christ Sunday, the last Sunday of the Christian calendar before we step into the expectant and anticipatory season of Advent. But, for us to celebrate Christ’s world, we must ask ourselves the character of this world. Shalom is the core component of this world. And, there is nothing idle or foolish about it. It is real business to be dealt with in budget processes and in pubic policy. It is found in how we respond to neighbor and foe. It is in the every day choices that we make to build our society one relationship at a time, one policy at a time, one choice at a time. It is not foolish. It is a challenge to be sure, but it is not an idle dream. It is a holy dream, one that requires us to exercise the might of reason and to trust in the power of mystery and to believe in the work of the Holy One to transform this world, for God says, “For I am about to create new heavens and a new earth... be glad and rejoice forever in what I am creating.” Let it be so. Amen.