So what event do you know that can weave together so many great myths, like: Cinderella; David and Goliath; and, Shootout at the OK Corral? By the way, Dan Rather had it wrong. Myth doesn't mean "baloney," or worse. It's a technical word that defines a story as one which tells a peoples' shared truth in such a compelling way, those people make their meaning by living inside that story.
For many people, the NCAA's March Madness is such a story. Though half-time episode or time-out interlude might be more accurate words, the NCAA believes enough of us choose to live inside their March Madness they've trademarked that name! Many of us recall a time when people shared common language, experiences, customs and traditions. Often these were ethnic, and sometimes religious. Whatever their roots, we were introduced into them by our elders. We wove them together with our own interpretations. Then we passed these "latest and greatest" versions, as the shared stories we lived by, to our children.
Those stories seemed huge: large enough to hold onto the most long ago past; enormous enough to embrace each energizing and enervating present; and, expansive enough to encompass the most enormous dreams for every far distant future. It's truly a smaller, greedier, more selfish world that breeds a three-week myth, involving only sixty-five teams made up of 15 players, each - one winner 64 losers.
There is another March Madness story (which this year we celebrate in early April) that still speaks to our fiercest memories, our deepest fears in the present, our worst nightmares for the future, and our shared anxieties about death. Some folks still claim to live inside this story. Others, exclusive marketers, have trademarked the Gospel's liberating declarations and compelling claims about the meaning of Christ. They pirate the story of Jesus’ breaking-open passion and rename it “possibility.” They curtail the story of Jesus’ pouring-out cross and call it “prosperity.”
Why else would the world drink in stories that don't end our thirst for meaning, and dine on stories that can't nourish the next generation's present or sustain any future?
We'll spend some time of a Sunday, as well as a Thursday and Friday evening, then another Sunday re-membering, re-telling, re-entering and re-living a maddeningly, captivating story, and asking God to reposition us right into the middle of its still unfolding, life-giving plot.
It's the mythic story of one apparent loser who, by God’s grace-filled “for us,” makes winners of us all. That's no baloney. And it won't infringe on any trademark if we share the march toward its inclusive madness with you, too!
Showing posts with label Lent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lent. Show all posts
Friday, March 16, 2007
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Orbiting in Solitude, Solidarity and Solace
Have you thought lately about what in your life you'd like to be different? Now before you say, "No," think about some conversations you've had recently. Have you told someone you're thinking about buying a new car? Did you hear yourself say you wish you had a new job; a new Easter outfit; better health insurance; a cleaner house; a smaller tax bill? Then we're not disagreeing about the idea, only the details.
The devil's in the details, or so goes an old saying. But what if that's all wrong? What if the details aren't the devil at all? What if the details are the whisperings of God calling you into new places; into new beginnings; new adventures? Could the details be God's beckoning you into a new future?
Uh, Uhh, too soon to argue the point. Tomorrow's a new future. Anyone reading this who doesn't want to see tomorrow? I didn't think so. What if the details are the Spirit of God – the energy of God leading you away from the sources of energy and power your personal planet orbits today, and into a new orbit of energy - the energy of the Risen Christ. Not the Christ who conquered death over 2000 years ago, but the energy of Christ alive and present in our midst.
The theological word for what I'm talking about is transformation. While you may not use that word to describe the experience, you know the experience. And though it can sometimes feel invasive, unwanted and unpredictable, you even relish it! Or at least you once did.
Remember how you relished: growing into teenage or adult years; welcoming someone back from war; giving birth; surviving an illness or serious accident; realizing you'd fallen in love; or felt mysteriously, again, the touch of a loved one you'd buried long ago? That was transformation. And, no doubt, God was involved in those details.
That's why the disciplines of Lent are so important. While we often talk about prayer, fasting and almsgiving - the details – we sometimes under emphasize the purposes behind these activities. Lenten disciplines afford us is solitude, solace, and solidarity. A space without distractions. An encounter with the God who loves and cares especially for us as individual persons. A sense of kinship and belonging with all those who live by God's grace.
We can't make that happen on our own. Maybe that's why we resist it so. This kind of different, this kind of change, this kind of transformation is beyond our control. Unlike deciding about buying a new car; joining a new church; or, taking a different kind of action to promote justice; we simply can't choose, or get to, this kind of meeting with God on our own terms. We can't get to God. Only God can get to us.
That's why God works so hard to make it so! It's not only that we often work so hard to keep this God at arms length. We also persist in defining this God in the same way we describe all those other energy fields we orbit. Oh, sure, we'd like to believe that we've long ago given up the notion that ours is a Scoutmaster God who hands out merit badges. We're sure we no longer understand God as the Santa who knows when we've been bad or good. Details, details.
Not claiming and celebrating the transformations God still gives to us keeps us from being a transforming people. We have three weeks left for a precious period of solitude, solace and solidarity. Can you hear Risen Jesus calling? The one who broke open and poured out in solitude and solidarity on the cross for you? Take solace. That detail's gonna change you!
The devil's in the details, or so goes an old saying. But what if that's all wrong? What if the details aren't the devil at all? What if the details are the whisperings of God calling you into new places; into new beginnings; new adventures? Could the details be God's beckoning you into a new future?
Uh, Uhh, too soon to argue the point. Tomorrow's a new future. Anyone reading this who doesn't want to see tomorrow? I didn't think so. What if the details are the Spirit of God – the energy of God leading you away from the sources of energy and power your personal planet orbits today, and into a new orbit of energy - the energy of the Risen Christ. Not the Christ who conquered death over 2000 years ago, but the energy of Christ alive and present in our midst.
The theological word for what I'm talking about is transformation. While you may not use that word to describe the experience, you know the experience. And though it can sometimes feel invasive, unwanted and unpredictable, you even relish it! Or at least you once did.
Remember how you relished: growing into teenage or adult years; welcoming someone back from war; giving birth; surviving an illness or serious accident; realizing you'd fallen in love; or felt mysteriously, again, the touch of a loved one you'd buried long ago? That was transformation. And, no doubt, God was involved in those details.
That's why the disciplines of Lent are so important. While we often talk about prayer, fasting and almsgiving - the details – we sometimes under emphasize the purposes behind these activities. Lenten disciplines afford us is solitude, solace, and solidarity. A space without distractions. An encounter with the God who loves and cares especially for us as individual persons. A sense of kinship and belonging with all those who live by God's grace.
We can't make that happen on our own. Maybe that's why we resist it so. This kind of different, this kind of change, this kind of transformation is beyond our control. Unlike deciding about buying a new car; joining a new church; or, taking a different kind of action to promote justice; we simply can't choose, or get to, this kind of meeting with God on our own terms. We can't get to God. Only God can get to us.
That's why God works so hard to make it so! It's not only that we often work so hard to keep this God at arms length. We also persist in defining this God in the same way we describe all those other energy fields we orbit. Oh, sure, we'd like to believe that we've long ago given up the notion that ours is a Scoutmaster God who hands out merit badges. We're sure we no longer understand God as the Santa who knows when we've been bad or good. Details, details.
Not claiming and celebrating the transformations God still gives to us keeps us from being a transforming people. We have three weeks left for a precious period of solitude, solace and solidarity. Can you hear Risen Jesus calling? The one who broke open and poured out in solitude and solidarity on the cross for you? Take solace. That detail's gonna change you!
Thursday, March 08, 2007
The Mystery of the Dueling Towels
It’s always important to know what you’re not dealing with. We don’t have an unknown subject whose identity we’re trying to determine, or whose criminal mind we’re trying fathom. We’re not dealing with a cold case. Higher math’s statistics and probability won’t bring resolution. Neither the crime scene, nor its physical evidence, is available for our investigative probing.
We do have reasonable testimony concerning key actors in what seems to be a conspiracy to bring about Jesus’ death. We know their names, their social positions, something about their professional responsibilities, even where some are buried. It appears that all the key actors understand each other’s roles in society, and respect – even make use of - the boundaries those roles demand they maintain.
There are rather reliable accounts of their whereabouts, as well as their comings and goings, during those days. It all happens within what seems to be a three to four day window of opportunity during which they hatched, successfully, their plot.
Likewise, there is a virtual laundry list of critical, physical evidence: 30 pieces of silver, a small sword, a briefly severed ear, a tunic left behind, whips, thorns, a purple cloak, a fiery warming pit, primitive dice, nails and hammers, and wood, lots of wood. So what’s with these towels?
They, if there’s more than one, keep showing up! We see the first on Thursday evening, at the last supper (John 13. It’s here early Friday morning in Pilate’s hands (Matthew 27:24-26). There’s a tale about a towel and a woman early Friday afternoon. Had to be there, didn’t it, by late that afternoon, because it, alone, is found entombed, rolled neatly on Sunday morning.
If we had them, or one of them, any of them, what would we do? Would we risk destroying them by checking the miles of fibers? Can you see us soiling them by spraying lumiol or swabbing for DNA, to what end?
I’m sure, if we had them, or one of them, any of them, we’d declare them, at least venerable, if not valuable. Like as not we’d promise to stow them reverently the way we do the:
• ribbons we won at childhood athletic competitions
• letter jackets we earned in high school
• silky wedding dresses we wore down the aisle, no matter the fate of that marriage
• quilts grandma made
• full dress medals presented to us by the commanding officer, despite our not displaying that level of courage in a long time
• blankets our first child dragged through 3rd grade.
We might, but I doubt it. In the end, we’d rightly decide that there really is nothing remarkable about the towels. What’s worth noting is how they were used; how they’re still used.
John tells us Jesus, exposed and vulnerable, laid aside his garments, put on a towel, washed his disciples’ feet and dried them with that same towel. John’s Jesus explains that he’s offering an example: "Do you know what I have done to you? 13You call me Teacher and Lord — and you are right, for that is what I am. 14So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet. 15For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you. 16Very truly, I tell you, servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them. 17If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them." (John 13:12-17)
Would that we were merely the kind of people who followed only those examples so precisely laid out for us. But, truth be told, we’ll take our cues from most anybody, anywhere, anytime.
Pilate, too, has become exposed and vulnerable, though not by his own choosing. His:
• arrogance and prejudice show through
• willingness to compromise his principles is laid bare
• fear of paying the price for doing the right thing is uncovered
• naked ambition and aggression are transparent
• see-through rationalizations are revealed.
The procurator's posture seems to be: What’s one more leafless tree sprouting a strange fruit on Golgotha? If this circus lynching prompts their pious pastors to hush these uncivilized, ghettoized festival goers, what harm can follow? But let’s get it done without a trace.
Stripped of his dignity he, too, takes on a servant’s task. Except Pilate’s only care is to wash himself, cleanse himself from the dirty little mess he’d let himself get rolled up in. Declaring himself innocent, Pilate doesn’t put on the towel, he throws in the towel. Sounds way too familiar, doesn’t it?
Throwing in the towel, then as now, denies Jesus’ identity, discounts his mission, disrespects his ministry and disregards the verdict his breaking-open, pouring-out servanthood lavishes on us.
Washed and toweled in the blood of this Passover lamb, we don’t need to declare ourselves innocent. We get to call ourselves not guilty. That’s a distinction with a huge difference. The mystery of our Lenten days, as well as our every-days, isn’t who done it. We know how complicit we truly are.
Rather, the mystery is will you remain content to consort and conspire with the usual suspects, or will you keep making your plea with the God whose vulnerable heart’s desire is to give you a share in the master’s life-giving laundry business?
We do have reasonable testimony concerning key actors in what seems to be a conspiracy to bring about Jesus’ death. We know their names, their social positions, something about their professional responsibilities, even where some are buried. It appears that all the key actors understand each other’s roles in society, and respect – even make use of - the boundaries those roles demand they maintain.
There are rather reliable accounts of their whereabouts, as well as their comings and goings, during those days. It all happens within what seems to be a three to four day window of opportunity during which they hatched, successfully, their plot.
Likewise, there is a virtual laundry list of critical, physical evidence: 30 pieces of silver, a small sword, a briefly severed ear, a tunic left behind, whips, thorns, a purple cloak, a fiery warming pit, primitive dice, nails and hammers, and wood, lots of wood. So what’s with these towels?
They, if there’s more than one, keep showing up! We see the first on Thursday evening, at the last supper (John 13. It’s here early Friday morning in Pilate’s hands (Matthew 27:24-26). There’s a tale about a towel and a woman early Friday afternoon. Had to be there, didn’t it, by late that afternoon, because it, alone, is found entombed, rolled neatly on Sunday morning.
If we had them, or one of them, any of them, what would we do? Would we risk destroying them by checking the miles of fibers? Can you see us soiling them by spraying lumiol or swabbing for DNA, to what end?
I’m sure, if we had them, or one of them, any of them, we’d declare them, at least venerable, if not valuable. Like as not we’d promise to stow them reverently the way we do the:
• ribbons we won at childhood athletic competitions
• letter jackets we earned in high school
• silky wedding dresses we wore down the aisle, no matter the fate of that marriage
• quilts grandma made
• full dress medals presented to us by the commanding officer, despite our not displaying that level of courage in a long time
• blankets our first child dragged through 3rd grade.
We might, but I doubt it. In the end, we’d rightly decide that there really is nothing remarkable about the towels. What’s worth noting is how they were used; how they’re still used.
John tells us Jesus, exposed and vulnerable, laid aside his garments, put on a towel, washed his disciples’ feet and dried them with that same towel. John’s Jesus explains that he’s offering an example: "Do you know what I have done to you? 13You call me Teacher and Lord — and you are right, for that is what I am. 14So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet. 15For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you. 16Very truly, I tell you, servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them. 17If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them." (John 13:12-17)
Would that we were merely the kind of people who followed only those examples so precisely laid out for us. But, truth be told, we’ll take our cues from most anybody, anywhere, anytime.
Pilate, too, has become exposed and vulnerable, though not by his own choosing. His:
• arrogance and prejudice show through
• willingness to compromise his principles is laid bare
• fear of paying the price for doing the right thing is uncovered
• naked ambition and aggression are transparent
• see-through rationalizations are revealed.
The procurator's posture seems to be: What’s one more leafless tree sprouting a strange fruit on Golgotha? If this circus lynching prompts their pious pastors to hush these uncivilized, ghettoized festival goers, what harm can follow? But let’s get it done without a trace.
Stripped of his dignity he, too, takes on a servant’s task. Except Pilate’s only care is to wash himself, cleanse himself from the dirty little mess he’d let himself get rolled up in. Declaring himself innocent, Pilate doesn’t put on the towel, he throws in the towel. Sounds way too familiar, doesn’t it?
Throwing in the towel, then as now, denies Jesus’ identity, discounts his mission, disrespects his ministry and disregards the verdict his breaking-open, pouring-out servanthood lavishes on us.
Washed and toweled in the blood of this Passover lamb, we don’t need to declare ourselves innocent. We get to call ourselves not guilty. That’s a distinction with a huge difference. The mystery of our Lenten days, as well as our every-days, isn’t who done it. We know how complicit we truly are.
Rather, the mystery is will you remain content to consort and conspire with the usual suspects, or will you keep making your plea with the God whose vulnerable heart’s desire is to give you a share in the master’s life-giving laundry business?
Friday, March 02, 2007
Grow 12 Inches in Two Minutes!
It's easy to get caught up in the belief that everything is knowable Many folks are sure that it's only a matter of time before philosophers and scientists open every intellectual and emotional door in the universe.
Still, despite what we know, and in spite of our fixation that we can, eventually, know everything we think we need to know, the longest distance on earth remains the 12 inches from the human brain to the human heart. That's where Lent comes in.
Lent isn't just a season in the church calendar. Lent is the time and energy Christians focus on the same questions that bedeviled Jesus in his desert experience: who am I; what am I to do; how can I get that done.
Those questions, and the intellectual, emotional, social and spiritual concerns they raise are issues of the heart. Issues for our hearts because when we take the time to think with our heads: about who we are; who we've let ourselves become; and who we're surely to be if we continue the path we're walking, we still don't know the whole truth about ourselves.
If you want to know something for sure, spend two minutes by yourself, looking in a mirror. The person looking back at you is gonna die someday. And when you can admit that you’re gonna die, you're gonna want to ask yourself, "So, how shall I live?"
Lent's heart time can help you answer that question anew. You could spend some time in prayer - becoming familiar with the person you are who God still loves. You could fast, not to lose weight, or to prove that you can live without chocolate, or alcohol, or nicotine, but to get reacquainted with the experience of hungering, pining, thirsting, yearning for more than what fills your usual bill. You could give alms -not to engage in checkbook mission and ministry, but to ally yourself with those who have no choice about their deprivation, their degradation, or their degeneration into an existence that few of our sated and comfortable ideas of God can console.
If you spend a few minutes staring into your own future - the dustiness that's to become of us – you might be able to not only look passed the fear that imprisons our hearts, but God might lead you to walk into, through, and past those fears cause us to think we can fool ourselves, by foolin' everyone else into believin' that we do pray, we do fast, and we do give alms - so aren't' we special!
If you spend a few minutes staring into your own future, the dustiness that's to become of us – it means you're alive. And when you can admit that you do have a life, you're gonna want to ask yourself, "So, how shall I live?"
You see, if you give yourself a few minutes to notice the naked truth that we're gonna die and we're gonna live - it means that God is bringing you across that 12 inch wasteland between our head and our heart that we spend so much time trying to cover up.
What is the fear that makes the 12 inches between your head and heart an un-crossable chasm? Is it: fear of poverty - of not having enough - that makes you horde all you got; fear of relationships - of having to make room in your heart for another - that makes you wall off your love into so many empty chambers; fear of emptiness – of giving away too much -that makes you gorge yourself with all kinds of stuff, well beyond what anyone needs for wholesome nourishment; fear of aloneness - of not having place, or standing, or status, or legitimacy that makes you crawl over, put down, or shame folks different from you?
Those are big chasms to cross all by yourself. In the cross of Jesus all of our faults are exposed. There can be no more illusion that we're of one mind and one heart. Our schemes to cover the naked truth are exposed. The garments of guile we wear to make people think we have it together are exposed for the rag-tags they are.
Take two minutes today, so you're geared up to grow 12 inches in 40 days. When we do Lent, alone and together, we can remember that there's no chasm we have to cross alone -cuz Jesus already crossed it for us. And now: still able to fool ourselves, we're free; still failing, we're forgiven; still frightened, we're fearless; and, we get to walk along and cross on home.
Still, despite what we know, and in spite of our fixation that we can, eventually, know everything we think we need to know, the longest distance on earth remains the 12 inches from the human brain to the human heart. That's where Lent comes in.
Lent isn't just a season in the church calendar. Lent is the time and energy Christians focus on the same questions that bedeviled Jesus in his desert experience: who am I; what am I to do; how can I get that done.
Those questions, and the intellectual, emotional, social and spiritual concerns they raise are issues of the heart. Issues for our hearts because when we take the time to think with our heads: about who we are; who we've let ourselves become; and who we're surely to be if we continue the path we're walking, we still don't know the whole truth about ourselves.
If you want to know something for sure, spend two minutes by yourself, looking in a mirror. The person looking back at you is gonna die someday. And when you can admit that you’re gonna die, you're gonna want to ask yourself, "So, how shall I live?"
Lent's heart time can help you answer that question anew. You could spend some time in prayer - becoming familiar with the person you are who God still loves. You could fast, not to lose weight, or to prove that you can live without chocolate, or alcohol, or nicotine, but to get reacquainted with the experience of hungering, pining, thirsting, yearning for more than what fills your usual bill. You could give alms -not to engage in checkbook mission and ministry, but to ally yourself with those who have no choice about their deprivation, their degradation, or their degeneration into an existence that few of our sated and comfortable ideas of God can console.
If you spend a few minutes staring into your own future - the dustiness that's to become of us – you might be able to not only look passed the fear that imprisons our hearts, but God might lead you to walk into, through, and past those fears cause us to think we can fool ourselves, by foolin' everyone else into believin' that we do pray, we do fast, and we do give alms - so aren't' we special!
If you spend a few minutes staring into your own future, the dustiness that's to become of us – it means you're alive. And when you can admit that you do have a life, you're gonna want to ask yourself, "So, how shall I live?"
You see, if you give yourself a few minutes to notice the naked truth that we're gonna die and we're gonna live - it means that God is bringing you across that 12 inch wasteland between our head and our heart that we spend so much time trying to cover up.
What is the fear that makes the 12 inches between your head and heart an un-crossable chasm? Is it: fear of poverty - of not having enough - that makes you horde all you got; fear of relationships - of having to make room in your heart for another - that makes you wall off your love into so many empty chambers; fear of emptiness – of giving away too much -that makes you gorge yourself with all kinds of stuff, well beyond what anyone needs for wholesome nourishment; fear of aloneness - of not having place, or standing, or status, or legitimacy that makes you crawl over, put down, or shame folks different from you?
Those are big chasms to cross all by yourself. In the cross of Jesus all of our faults are exposed. There can be no more illusion that we're of one mind and one heart. Our schemes to cover the naked truth are exposed. The garments of guile we wear to make people think we have it together are exposed for the rag-tags they are.
Take two minutes today, so you're geared up to grow 12 inches in 40 days. When we do Lent, alone and together, we can remember that there's no chasm we have to cross alone -cuz Jesus already crossed it for us. And now: still able to fool ourselves, we're free; still failing, we're forgiven; still frightened, we're fearless; and, we get to walk along and cross on home.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Sizzlin' in Lent's Seductive Space
A while back the ELCA asked pastors to name a few members to receive a newsletter called, Seeds in the Parish. Besides their name, address, age range, gender and ethnicity, the pastor was to identify each one’s role in the congregation. Most titles were routine and obvious: leader, teacher, evangelist, etc. My favorite is Mission Interpreter. It sounds so bold and out of the box. I’ve used it only once. Next time I have a chance I’ll use that title, Mission Interpreter, to describe Jamal Caldwell (not his real name).
I say that, in part, because Jamal coaches me to use a blog to connect with younger people who aren’t yet part of this community. The latest lesson came in an email. Jamal encouraged me to put the blog up for review with a high-powered editorial / marketing service. They'll test the blog to see if it meets the standards of high exposure, heavy hitters like CNN, Fox News, USA Today and Reuters News Service.
Overall, applying for the review didn’t take much time, maybe 20 minutes. The greater challenge was responding to the three main questions using the required maximum keystrokes, not words, keystrokes. Imagine me saying anything in 200 keystrokes! What I’ve said before I’m saying this took 1,162 keystrokes.
The next challenge was answering the questions honestly, or rather, fairly – fair to them and fair to us. One item said, “Tell us about yourself and your blog.” Another said, "Summarize the blog," which I took to mean, what’s its focus, why do you write it. You see part of the difficulty here. Is it my blog, or our blog?
Now since I’m trying to persuade them that there’s some sizzle in the blog content, I tried to put some sizzle in these responses. I wanted both me and us to sound like we’re sizzlin’ folks and this is a happenin’ place. Of course, there’s not much point in evading the truth. If they choose to read the entries, they’ll make up their own minds.
Still, I worked to find sizzle, in me, in you and in us. I said I’m a second career, boomer pastor. I said you are a multiracial urban congregation in America’s heartland. (I don’t think of us as you, and me but they need to know that, for now, the pastor is the author.) I borrowed phrases from this piece about finding a church home. [See, "You'll Know a Church Home When You Find It," on this blogsite.] I read it often. It always prompts the same questions. If we’re being this kind of church, do I have the stamina to stay here? If we’re not being this kind of church, do I have the courage to leave here?
The best line said, “We’ve got a blue-state consciousness in a red-state context.” Pretty cool, huh? That might hook ‘em enough to read the blog, but there’s no telling what they’ll think of it.
Trouble is, you see, the last two blog entries are about Lent. How you gonna make Lent, and people who are praying, fasting and almsgiving, sound sizzlin’? How does a place where that happens sound happenin’?
Maybe I should say Lent is a fierce battle against temptation. Perhaps, using less churchy words to describe what temptation is would sound more sizzlin’. Temptation is trying to persuade someone. Temptation is wily pressure or cunning manipulation. Better yet, temptation is seduction. There’s a sizzlin’ word. When you’re seducing someone, you’re alluring, beguiling. Seduction is enticing someone from here to there. It comes from the Latin word, seducere, to lead away. Sounds more like an Oscar party than church, right? Now that’s sizzlin’ in a happen’ place!
Well, how about for the rest of this I just focus my whole heart on the flock God’s entrusted to me and not worry my mind over the flock my inflated ego thinks I should have over at CNN. How about for the rest of this you focus on Luke’s version of Jesus’ desert journey (Luke 4:1-13) as if you never heard it before, cuz it’s been a year since you heard it, and a year is a lifetime in the life of a true disciple.
Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, 2where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over, he was famished. 3The devil said to him, "If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread." 4Jesus answered him, "It is written, 'One does not live by bread alone.'"
5Then the devil led him up and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. 6And the devil said to him, "To you I will give their glory and all this authority; for it has been given over to me, and I give it to anyone I please. 7If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours." 8Jesus answered him, "It is written, 'Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.'"
9Then the devil took him to Jerusalem, and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, "If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, 10for it is written, 'He will command his angels concerning you, to protect you,' 11and 'On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.'" 12Jesus answered him, "It is said, 'Do not put the Lord your God to the test.'" 13When the devil had finished every test, he departed from him until an opportune time.
This Bible story, like every Bible story, is about God before it’s about us. This story tells us that the Jesus we call God’s divine son, is fully human. To be truly human Jesus must have the capacity to be tempted, i.e., allured, beguiled, enticed, influenced, persuaded and yes, seduced. Jesus could not have been some first century Clark Kent, capable of jumping into a phone booth to stop a satanic herd of pigs from goin’ over a cliff. Humans aren’t like that!
Jesus listened to and followed God’s word. He was full of the Holy Spirit. That’s why he was tempted, that is, had to struggle, needed to fight the battle. See, listening to God isn’t a struggle. Following God isn’t a battle. But those who listen to God will attract folks motivated by different words. They struggle for our attention. Those who follow God will be a magnet for folks charmed by other pathways. They battle for our allegiance. When they come around with their alluring terminology, we have to struggle. When they come around with their beguiling alleyways, we have to do battle.
Notice just how precise and persuasive this tempter is. The Greek word Luke uses for devil is diabolos. It means slanderer. That’s someone who, with lies, defames, insults, libels, or maligns.
This Satan, in Hebrew that means adversary, suggests to Jesus that, “If you are the son of God, then you should do these good things.” Do you see that? At root, these aren’t bad acts. God will have Jesus do each of these things in God’s own good time, when it pleases God for Jesus to do them. [Jesus does multiply loaves. Jesus does come to rule the world after defeating, not worhsipping the devil. Jesus is lifted by temple authorities onto a cross and after three days shows that God "protected" him from defeat by death.] It’s also true that the devil’s motivation and timing are not rooted in the word of God.
Pay attention to this sixth verse. The devil says authority over the earth has been given to me. That premise, stated nowhere in the Bible - especially nowhere from God’s mouth -doesn’t tell the truth, but how often have we been persuaded to act as if it were so. The powers are at work out there, but they have no authority out there unless we refuse to struggle, until we fail to do battle.
We carve out 40 days for Lent. But Lent isn’t about time; it’s about space. Lent is the journey we’re invited to take that crosses the space between where we are now and where God wants to lead us.
Inside that space, the distance between the last time we listened to God’s word and this moment, we have an opportunity to distinguish God’s word of life from the tall tales the culture would have us believe about ourselves, about world and about God.
Inside that space, the distance between the last time we walked in the evening shade with God and this moment, we have an opportunity to differentiate God’s high road of selfhood, wholeness and grace from the back alleyways the culture would have us travel toward selfishness, emptiness, and greed.
We make our way in this space, even though that often makes us crossways with the same world, the same flesh, and the same devil that put Jesus crossways, for us, on Calvary. We make our way in this desert space, pressing toward the promised land, so that we, like Jesus, can become more certain about our identity, more clear about our own mission under God’s rule, and more confident about how God wants us to join in what God never tires of doing, creating, saving, and blessing the world out there, including all God’s children.
Here’s how that looks. When you’re out there, where the powers are at work, and someone says, “What a coincidence…” that’s your chance to join the struggle. That’s your opportunity to wrestle with that false terminology and seduce them from over there to over here. “No, it’s not a coincidence. Our running into each other in this unlikely place is a grace from God.” When you’re out there, where the powers are at work, and someone says, “I’m havin’ a string of bad luck…” that’s your chance to do battle. That’s your opportunity to confront that charmed alleyway and seduce them from over there to over here. “No, it’s not bad luck. This awful experience you’re having gives us an opportunity to look for the ways God works all things for good for them that love and trust the Lord. Let me sit with you until that happens, that God makes a way out of no way.”
Sometimes when that happens, and God strengthens you for the struggle, the sizzle will be obvious. Other times the ways that’s happenin’, that God emboldens you for battle will require a Mission Interpreter. There’s none better to do that work than we who hear this God’s voice, eat from the fruit of this God’s table, and walk faithfully along this God’s path - alone and together.
I say that, in part, because Jamal coaches me to use a blog to connect with younger people who aren’t yet part of this community. The latest lesson came in an email. Jamal encouraged me to put the blog up for review with a high-powered editorial / marketing service. They'll test the blog to see if it meets the standards of high exposure, heavy hitters like CNN, Fox News, USA Today and Reuters News Service.
Overall, applying for the review didn’t take much time, maybe 20 minutes. The greater challenge was responding to the three main questions using the required maximum keystrokes, not words, keystrokes. Imagine me saying anything in 200 keystrokes! What I’ve said before I’m saying this took 1,162 keystrokes.
The next challenge was answering the questions honestly, or rather, fairly – fair to them and fair to us. One item said, “Tell us about yourself and your blog.” Another said, "Summarize the blog," which I took to mean, what’s its focus, why do you write it. You see part of the difficulty here. Is it my blog, or our blog?
Now since I’m trying to persuade them that there’s some sizzle in the blog content, I tried to put some sizzle in these responses. I wanted both me and us to sound like we’re sizzlin’ folks and this is a happenin’ place. Of course, there’s not much point in evading the truth. If they choose to read the entries, they’ll make up their own minds.
Still, I worked to find sizzle, in me, in you and in us. I said I’m a second career, boomer pastor. I said you are a multiracial urban congregation in America’s heartland. (I don’t think of us as you, and me but they need to know that, for now, the pastor is the author.) I borrowed phrases from this piece about finding a church home. [See, "You'll Know a Church Home When You Find It," on this blogsite.] I read it often. It always prompts the same questions. If we’re being this kind of church, do I have the stamina to stay here? If we’re not being this kind of church, do I have the courage to leave here?
The best line said, “We’ve got a blue-state consciousness in a red-state context.” Pretty cool, huh? That might hook ‘em enough to read the blog, but there’s no telling what they’ll think of it.
Trouble is, you see, the last two blog entries are about Lent. How you gonna make Lent, and people who are praying, fasting and almsgiving, sound sizzlin’? How does a place where that happens sound happenin’?
Maybe I should say Lent is a fierce battle against temptation. Perhaps, using less churchy words to describe what temptation is would sound more sizzlin’. Temptation is trying to persuade someone. Temptation is wily pressure or cunning manipulation. Better yet, temptation is seduction. There’s a sizzlin’ word. When you’re seducing someone, you’re alluring, beguiling. Seduction is enticing someone from here to there. It comes from the Latin word, seducere, to lead away. Sounds more like an Oscar party than church, right? Now that’s sizzlin’ in a happen’ place!
Well, how about for the rest of this I just focus my whole heart on the flock God’s entrusted to me and not worry my mind over the flock my inflated ego thinks I should have over at CNN. How about for the rest of this you focus on Luke’s version of Jesus’ desert journey (Luke 4:1-13) as if you never heard it before, cuz it’s been a year since you heard it, and a year is a lifetime in the life of a true disciple.
Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, 2where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over, he was famished. 3The devil said to him, "If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread." 4Jesus answered him, "It is written, 'One does not live by bread alone.'"
5Then the devil led him up and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. 6And the devil said to him, "To you I will give their glory and all this authority; for it has been given over to me, and I give it to anyone I please. 7If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours." 8Jesus answered him, "It is written, 'Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.'"
9Then the devil took him to Jerusalem, and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, "If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, 10for it is written, 'He will command his angels concerning you, to protect you,' 11and 'On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.'" 12Jesus answered him, "It is said, 'Do not put the Lord your God to the test.'" 13When the devil had finished every test, he departed from him until an opportune time.
This Bible story, like every Bible story, is about God before it’s about us. This story tells us that the Jesus we call God’s divine son, is fully human. To be truly human Jesus must have the capacity to be tempted, i.e., allured, beguiled, enticed, influenced, persuaded and yes, seduced. Jesus could not have been some first century Clark Kent, capable of jumping into a phone booth to stop a satanic herd of pigs from goin’ over a cliff. Humans aren’t like that!
Jesus listened to and followed God’s word. He was full of the Holy Spirit. That’s why he was tempted, that is, had to struggle, needed to fight the battle. See, listening to God isn’t a struggle. Following God isn’t a battle. But those who listen to God will attract folks motivated by different words. They struggle for our attention. Those who follow God will be a magnet for folks charmed by other pathways. They battle for our allegiance. When they come around with their alluring terminology, we have to struggle. When they come around with their beguiling alleyways, we have to do battle.
Notice just how precise and persuasive this tempter is. The Greek word Luke uses for devil is diabolos. It means slanderer. That’s someone who, with lies, defames, insults, libels, or maligns.
This Satan, in Hebrew that means adversary, suggests to Jesus that, “If you are the son of God, then you should do these good things.” Do you see that? At root, these aren’t bad acts. God will have Jesus do each of these things in God’s own good time, when it pleases God for Jesus to do them. [Jesus does multiply loaves. Jesus does come to rule the world after defeating, not worhsipping the devil. Jesus is lifted by temple authorities onto a cross and after three days shows that God "protected" him from defeat by death.] It’s also true that the devil’s motivation and timing are not rooted in the word of God.
Pay attention to this sixth verse. The devil says authority over the earth has been given to me. That premise, stated nowhere in the Bible - especially nowhere from God’s mouth -doesn’t tell the truth, but how often have we been persuaded to act as if it were so. The powers are at work out there, but they have no authority out there unless we refuse to struggle, until we fail to do battle.
We carve out 40 days for Lent. But Lent isn’t about time; it’s about space. Lent is the journey we’re invited to take that crosses the space between where we are now and where God wants to lead us.
Inside that space, the distance between the last time we listened to God’s word and this moment, we have an opportunity to distinguish God’s word of life from the tall tales the culture would have us believe about ourselves, about world and about God.
Inside that space, the distance between the last time we walked in the evening shade with God and this moment, we have an opportunity to differentiate God’s high road of selfhood, wholeness and grace from the back alleyways the culture would have us travel toward selfishness, emptiness, and greed.
We make our way in this space, even though that often makes us crossways with the same world, the same flesh, and the same devil that put Jesus crossways, for us, on Calvary. We make our way in this desert space, pressing toward the promised land, so that we, like Jesus, can become more certain about our identity, more clear about our own mission under God’s rule, and more confident about how God wants us to join in what God never tires of doing, creating, saving, and blessing the world out there, including all God’s children.
Here’s how that looks. When you’re out there, where the powers are at work, and someone says, “What a coincidence…” that’s your chance to join the struggle. That’s your opportunity to wrestle with that false terminology and seduce them from over there to over here. “No, it’s not a coincidence. Our running into each other in this unlikely place is a grace from God.” When you’re out there, where the powers are at work, and someone says, “I’m havin’ a string of bad luck…” that’s your chance to do battle. That’s your opportunity to confront that charmed alleyway and seduce them from over there to over here. “No, it’s not bad luck. This awful experience you’re having gives us an opportunity to look for the ways God works all things for good for them that love and trust the Lord. Let me sit with you until that happens, that God makes a way out of no way.”
Sometimes when that happens, and God strengthens you for the struggle, the sizzle will be obvious. Other times the ways that’s happenin’, that God emboldens you for battle will require a Mission Interpreter. There’s none better to do that work than we who hear this God’s voice, eat from the fruit of this God’s table, and walk faithfully along this God’s path - alone and together.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
A Fetching Time
She hadn't meant to cause any harm. She especially hadn't meant to upset the villagers, to bring shame to her family, to put distance between herself and her husband, or to bring on so many sleepless nights.
It wasn't supposed to become a distraction, or such an attraction. It was just a tale, not even a whole story. That's why she'd filled in a few of the blanks, stitched a few details into gaps in the time line. Now it had gathered its own steam, taken on a life of its own, and it was smothering her. What to do?
What to make of the looks people gave her as they drew back into narrow doorways to let her pass by as she walked in the square. They felt like daggers as her friends' eyes darted past her. Wanting, it seemed, to probe her face, but not wanting their eyes to meet hers. What to do?
It was only Tuesday. She couldn't wait for the priest to open the confessional on Saturday afternoon. She might even be dead by then. Oh, the weight of it all; pressing down on her neck, shoulders and back. It made her legs wobble. Her color was bad, probably due to taking too many short breaths. She couldn’t breathe right. It seemed that her heart had swelled in her chest, squeezing the places her lungs were supposed to occupy. Her heart was so heavy. It pushed down on her stomach. Now she could barely eat the crusts of bread she soaked in warm water mixed with olive oil and vinegar, just a dash of vinegar. Everything tasted so bitter lately. Even sweet bread had a sour taste. What to do?
She'd simply have to press Padre Giuseppe to hear her confession today, after the noon-time Angelus. He'd understand. He was a good priest.
It's a story my grandmother told about an old woman living in Italy who gossiped about a neighbor. Realizing her sin she confessed to the priest. The confessor said, "For your penance, take a down pillow up into the bell tower, cut it open and shake the feathers onto the town square, then go gather the feathers and return them to the pillow. When you've fetched all the feathers, now scattered as far as your gossip has flown, your sin will be forgiven."
Our religion tells us that this is a story about penance. It's really a story about repentance. Literally, the word repent means to drive back; to drive back to a point in time before you held that thought or did that deed, and then not take up the thought or commit the deed. To repent is to feel such remorse about a past thought or deed, that you change your mind and your ways.
Sometimes we use our religious language so casually and thoughtlessly that it loses its power to give shape and meaning to our lives. Lent is full of religious language: pray; fast; give alms; repent. But if these words don't gather the energies of our hearts and minds, if they roll off our tongues like so many tales of days gone by, then they lose the power of transforming grace deep-seated in God's holy Word.
Forty days. Enough time to recall that religious language, the Word of God, means to shape all our days, not just our Sundays. Forty days. Time enough to remember that the death and resurrection of Jesus is for our everyday. Lent. Time to experience a continuing death of the old and familiar. Time to be reborn again into new hope, new trust, and new love. Lent. Time to say what you mean and to mean what you say. Lent. Time to fetch the feathers.
It wasn't supposed to become a distraction, or such an attraction. It was just a tale, not even a whole story. That's why she'd filled in a few of the blanks, stitched a few details into gaps in the time line. Now it had gathered its own steam, taken on a life of its own, and it was smothering her. What to do?
What to make of the looks people gave her as they drew back into narrow doorways to let her pass by as she walked in the square. They felt like daggers as her friends' eyes darted past her. Wanting, it seemed, to probe her face, but not wanting their eyes to meet hers. What to do?
It was only Tuesday. She couldn't wait for the priest to open the confessional on Saturday afternoon. She might even be dead by then. Oh, the weight of it all; pressing down on her neck, shoulders and back. It made her legs wobble. Her color was bad, probably due to taking too many short breaths. She couldn’t breathe right. It seemed that her heart had swelled in her chest, squeezing the places her lungs were supposed to occupy. Her heart was so heavy. It pushed down on her stomach. Now she could barely eat the crusts of bread she soaked in warm water mixed with olive oil and vinegar, just a dash of vinegar. Everything tasted so bitter lately. Even sweet bread had a sour taste. What to do?
She'd simply have to press Padre Giuseppe to hear her confession today, after the noon-time Angelus. He'd understand. He was a good priest.
It's a story my grandmother told about an old woman living in Italy who gossiped about a neighbor. Realizing her sin she confessed to the priest. The confessor said, "For your penance, take a down pillow up into the bell tower, cut it open and shake the feathers onto the town square, then go gather the feathers and return them to the pillow. When you've fetched all the feathers, now scattered as far as your gossip has flown, your sin will be forgiven."
Our religion tells us that this is a story about penance. It's really a story about repentance. Literally, the word repent means to drive back; to drive back to a point in time before you held that thought or did that deed, and then not take up the thought or commit the deed. To repent is to feel such remorse about a past thought or deed, that you change your mind and your ways.
Sometimes we use our religious language so casually and thoughtlessly that it loses its power to give shape and meaning to our lives. Lent is full of religious language: pray; fast; give alms; repent. But if these words don't gather the energies of our hearts and minds, if they roll off our tongues like so many tales of days gone by, then they lose the power of transforming grace deep-seated in God's holy Word.
Forty days. Enough time to recall that religious language, the Word of God, means to shape all our days, not just our Sundays. Forty days. Time enough to remember that the death and resurrection of Jesus is for our everyday. Lent. Time to experience a continuing death of the old and familiar. Time to be reborn again into new hope, new trust, and new love. Lent. Time to say what you mean and to mean what you say. Lent. Time to fetch the feathers.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
40 Days in Space is Cross-wise from Here
Lent. Forty days and nights from Ash Wednesday, February 21st until Passion Sunday, April 1st. But it's not about time. It's about space - the space between where we are with God now and where God wants to lead us - alone and together.
Every time the number 40 occurs in the Hebrew Bible, stuff happens. After 40 days of purging rain, Noah's family and the earth were very different. After Moses spent 40 awesome days on the mountain, oppressed slaves found themselves in a covenanted partnership with the Great God Almighty. After 40 years of wearisome wanderin', a bunch of nomads became a people set apart, a holy nation. After 40 days on a lonesome mountain, Elijah saw God. After 40 days in the mean desert, Jesus knew not only who he really was, but also that God's rule would always reveal itself, cross-wise, through him. After 40 resurrected days, Jesus, the Risen Christ, returned to the Father and sent the Holy Spirit. After 40 days of Lent 2007, the people whom the Spirit calls, gathers, and nourishes at First Trinity, the ones who have put their names and their lives on the line by living into the vision of themselves as folk who keep on Sharin’ Plenty Good News will: __________________. We gotta fill in the blank - alone and together.
I don't know for sure what goes on that line. I do know for sure what doesn't go on that line. The line can't read, "Nothin’s changed." The line can't say, "Everything’s the same."
I don't know for sure what will get written on that line. I do know for sure that both the structure of the sentence and, more importantly, the motivation and attitude that puts the pen to paper, must be future oriented. It can't say, "We adjusted our worship time." It can't say, "We bought new hymnals." Those sentences are past tense. They're also about things external rather than things internal.
First Trinity's future with God lies in verbs that end in 'ing.' First Trinity's future with God has got to be a future of God. That means the only verbs that will do are these: engaging; inviting; welcoming; listening; freeing; praising; nurturing; and, discipling.
First Trinity's future with God lies in attitudes of God. That means the only attitudes that will do are these: forgiving; liberating; healing; and, empowering.
Most of us have been through Lent many times. The question for today is, "How many times has Lent been through us?"
God wants to take us to a new place. That's happened before - alone and together. And we've lived to tell the tale. The details are familiar. Growth and change involve grief and pain. The conclusion is also certain. God leads us out of an oppressive Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm. Making good on the promise, God leads us into a land flowing with milk and honey. We express our confidence in God and join God's future each time we share Eucharist - thanksgiving. We give thanks for what God has done. We also give thanks, before we decide whether or not cross-wise suits us, for what God will do and where God will lead.
Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again. We have 40 days to immerse ourselves into both who we are and Whose we are. That's plenty enough time to get into that cross-wise space from here!
Every time the number 40 occurs in the Hebrew Bible, stuff happens. After 40 days of purging rain, Noah's family and the earth were very different. After Moses spent 40 awesome days on the mountain, oppressed slaves found themselves in a covenanted partnership with the Great God Almighty. After 40 years of wearisome wanderin', a bunch of nomads became a people set apart, a holy nation. After 40 days on a lonesome mountain, Elijah saw God. After 40 days in the mean desert, Jesus knew not only who he really was, but also that God's rule would always reveal itself, cross-wise, through him. After 40 resurrected days, Jesus, the Risen Christ, returned to the Father and sent the Holy Spirit. After 40 days of Lent 2007, the people whom the Spirit calls, gathers, and nourishes at First Trinity, the ones who have put their names and their lives on the line by living into the vision of themselves as folk who keep on Sharin’ Plenty Good News will: __________________. We gotta fill in the blank - alone and together.
I don't know for sure what goes on that line. I do know for sure what doesn't go on that line. The line can't read, "Nothin’s changed." The line can't say, "Everything’s the same."
I don't know for sure what will get written on that line. I do know for sure that both the structure of the sentence and, more importantly, the motivation and attitude that puts the pen to paper, must be future oriented. It can't say, "We adjusted our worship time." It can't say, "We bought new hymnals." Those sentences are past tense. They're also about things external rather than things internal.
First Trinity's future with God lies in verbs that end in 'ing.' First Trinity's future with God has got to be a future of God. That means the only verbs that will do are these: engaging; inviting; welcoming; listening; freeing; praising; nurturing; and, discipling.
First Trinity's future with God lies in attitudes of God. That means the only attitudes that will do are these: forgiving; liberating; healing; and, empowering.
Most of us have been through Lent many times. The question for today is, "How many times has Lent been through us?"
God wants to take us to a new place. That's happened before - alone and together. And we've lived to tell the tale. The details are familiar. Growth and change involve grief and pain. The conclusion is also certain. God leads us out of an oppressive Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm. Making good on the promise, God leads us into a land flowing with milk and honey. We express our confidence in God and join God's future each time we share Eucharist - thanksgiving. We give thanks for what God has done. We also give thanks, before we decide whether or not cross-wise suits us, for what God will do and where God will lead.
Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again. We have 40 days to immerse ourselves into both who we are and Whose we are. That's plenty enough time to get into that cross-wise space from here!
Friday, February 23, 2007
American Idols Don't Do Lent
As "church work" goes, Lent is a bit of a tough sell. What's to celebrate?
It seems a little like asking people to vote themselves off the island, or to vote for your opponent instead of for yourself. Most of us don't need an official notice to begin beating ourselves up! Neither do we need our church home to schedule a six-week season to put ourselves down, emotionally or morally.
The elegant response to those legitimate misgivings goes this way. Lent is part of how we Christians "mark time" differently than the world does. (Wal-Mart is already marketing Easter bunnies and swimming pools.) Lent also ensures that we walk all of Christ's walk, including the cross' defeat, before we fast-forward to resurrection victory. Pilgrims on a journey in faith, we want to make sure that we connect with Jesus' costly grace, not the world's cheap-grace.
But what if the 40 day journey was just that; a walk together through which we join with the God who wants us to come clean with ourselves, and clean with God? A phrase like, honest-to-God comes to mind. Whether we take that frame of mind from scripture: all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, or from our catechism: I confess that I am in bondage to sin and cannot free myself, the idea of coming clean with God, being honest with God, telling the truth – the whole truth, nothing but the truth - puts us in touch with both our deepest desires and our greatest fears. That's why we take this hardest of walks together.
While most of us won't find our pictures on the wall at the Post Office, when we see ourselves as we really are, we see someone who simply can't "do better" on her or his own. This is as good as it gets, and yet we know God wants so much more for us.
That "more for us" is, finally, Lent's focus - the cross of Christ. Here we can see the lengths we humans will go to avoid how much more God has in store for us. Here, too, we get to see the lengths God will travel to love us into seeing ourselves as God sees us -graced to break ourselves open and pour ourselves out for the sake of God's kingdom vision.
Lent is a time when we can name and claim the freedom God gives us to look deeply at ourselves, not just on the edges where we eat too many desserts, not just on the margins where we hoard our money, not just on the fringes where we use our prayers like so many bargaining chips.
Looking deeply, cross-wise, will change us, honest-to-God. That calls for a celebration!
It seems a little like asking people to vote themselves off the island, or to vote for your opponent instead of for yourself. Most of us don't need an official notice to begin beating ourselves up! Neither do we need our church home to schedule a six-week season to put ourselves down, emotionally or morally.
The elegant response to those legitimate misgivings goes this way. Lent is part of how we Christians "mark time" differently than the world does. (Wal-Mart is already marketing Easter bunnies and swimming pools.) Lent also ensures that we walk all of Christ's walk, including the cross' defeat, before we fast-forward to resurrection victory. Pilgrims on a journey in faith, we want to make sure that we connect with Jesus' costly grace, not the world's cheap-grace.
But what if the 40 day journey was just that; a walk together through which we join with the God who wants us to come clean with ourselves, and clean with God? A phrase like, honest-to-God comes to mind. Whether we take that frame of mind from scripture: all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, or from our catechism: I confess that I am in bondage to sin and cannot free myself, the idea of coming clean with God, being honest with God, telling the truth – the whole truth, nothing but the truth - puts us in touch with both our deepest desires and our greatest fears. That's why we take this hardest of walks together.
While most of us won't find our pictures on the wall at the Post Office, when we see ourselves as we really are, we see someone who simply can't "do better" on her or his own. This is as good as it gets, and yet we know God wants so much more for us.
That "more for us" is, finally, Lent's focus - the cross of Christ. Here we can see the lengths we humans will go to avoid how much more God has in store for us. Here, too, we get to see the lengths God will travel to love us into seeing ourselves as God sees us -graced to break ourselves open and pour ourselves out for the sake of God's kingdom vision.
Lent is a time when we can name and claim the freedom God gives us to look deeply at ourselves, not just on the edges where we eat too many desserts, not just on the margins where we hoard our money, not just on the fringes where we use our prayers like so many bargaining chips.
Looking deeply, cross-wise, will change us, honest-to-God. That calls for a celebration!
Saturday, February 03, 2007
Breathing Differently
This February, temporary occurrences threaten to distract our focus from those monumental events which give true shape to our identity and purpose.
As Americans we want to take some special time to focus on and to celebrate the gifts our society and culture relish in from contributions of African Americans. As Christians we want to begin an annual time of remembering and responding to the gift God gives us in the passion and death of Jesus which we celebrate in Lent.
This year we’re doing that amidst a dream most of us share to live out the rest of 2007 in a Super Bowl city. Too bad that’s not our only distraction.
The legislature is in long session, to build a budget. We’re again beset with value choices which will shape how we live, regardless of our Colts’ achievement of the football field. Decisions about: education, (full-day Kindergarten and modifying ISTEP [again!]); health care (providing access to those unable to afford insurance); criminal justice (to reduce jail overcrowding and decrease “good-time” earned by those incarcerated); gambling (increasing video gaming and “leasing” the state-operated lottery); and, road-building (by private contractors who will “own” these proposed toll roads). Lest we forget, the proposed amendment to the state’s constitution, banning gay marriage, is up for second passage by both houses. This is required for the amendment to be on the general election ballot in 2008, coincidentally, a presidential election year.
Beyond the issues, the legislature must determine the tax strategies required to fund our shifting values. These will effect all of us, without concern for either our ethnicity's or our faith postures.
While we may be the first Hoosiers to breathe Super Bowl, we’re not the first citizens to remember Black History. Neither are we the first Christians to remember the way of the cross.
We celebrate differently because we remember differently. We stand amidst the ancestors whose courage, long-suffering and joy still propel our own becoming. They stood for the freedom of all persons, as imagio dei (image of God). They laid down their lives for equal access and opportunity.
We stand at the cross of Jesus whose blood still sets us all free to be people of God. While our ethnicity's diverge and converge, though our faith postures vary and coalesce, by the Spirit of the risen Jesus poured out upon us, we breathe differently. In that breathing space some of us are interested in thinking critically about God, faith, personhood, world, and our life together in that mix. Others seem more interested in practicing a personal faith. The latter, it seems to me, goes something like this: the Bible says it; I believe it; that settles it.
However we breathe, inside the space where the ruach (wind / spirit) of God sustains us, our practices ought not to be about either sucking the oxygen out of the room, or blowing out the life-spirit of any other. Inside this different breathing space neither of those results can be on our conscious agenda, nor can we allow them to stand as the unintended consequences of our cross-remembering, cross-celebrating practices.
When you’re finished celebrating our Colts victory, no doubt a monumental event, please also remember to make your opinions known to our legislators from the depths of your identity-shaping, purpose-making remembering and celebrating in Jesus’ name.
Together, remembering and celebrating, our focus is sure and our future is certain. I look forward to the awesome experiences this February holds out for us as we keep on Sharin’ Plenty Good News!
As Americans we want to take some special time to focus on and to celebrate the gifts our society and culture relish in from contributions of African Americans. As Christians we want to begin an annual time of remembering and responding to the gift God gives us in the passion and death of Jesus which we celebrate in Lent.
This year we’re doing that amidst a dream most of us share to live out the rest of 2007 in a Super Bowl city. Too bad that’s not our only distraction.
The legislature is in long session, to build a budget. We’re again beset with value choices which will shape how we live, regardless of our Colts’ achievement of the football field. Decisions about: education, (full-day Kindergarten and modifying ISTEP [again!]); health care (providing access to those unable to afford insurance); criminal justice (to reduce jail overcrowding and decrease “good-time” earned by those incarcerated); gambling (increasing video gaming and “leasing” the state-operated lottery); and, road-building (by private contractors who will “own” these proposed toll roads). Lest we forget, the proposed amendment to the state’s constitution, banning gay marriage, is up for second passage by both houses. This is required for the amendment to be on the general election ballot in 2008, coincidentally, a presidential election year.
Beyond the issues, the legislature must determine the tax strategies required to fund our shifting values. These will effect all of us, without concern for either our ethnicity's or our faith postures.
While we may be the first Hoosiers to breathe Super Bowl, we’re not the first citizens to remember Black History. Neither are we the first Christians to remember the way of the cross.
We celebrate differently because we remember differently. We stand amidst the ancestors whose courage, long-suffering and joy still propel our own becoming. They stood for the freedom of all persons, as imagio dei (image of God). They laid down their lives for equal access and opportunity.
We stand at the cross of Jesus whose blood still sets us all free to be people of God. While our ethnicity's diverge and converge, though our faith postures vary and coalesce, by the Spirit of the risen Jesus poured out upon us, we breathe differently. In that breathing space some of us are interested in thinking critically about God, faith, personhood, world, and our life together in that mix. Others seem more interested in practicing a personal faith. The latter, it seems to me, goes something like this: the Bible says it; I believe it; that settles it.
However we breathe, inside the space where the ruach (wind / spirit) of God sustains us, our practices ought not to be about either sucking the oxygen out of the room, or blowing out the life-spirit of any other. Inside this different breathing space neither of those results can be on our conscious agenda, nor can we allow them to stand as the unintended consequences of our cross-remembering, cross-celebrating practices.
When you’re finished celebrating our Colts victory, no doubt a monumental event, please also remember to make your opinions known to our legislators from the depths of your identity-shaping, purpose-making remembering and celebrating in Jesus’ name.
Together, remembering and celebrating, our focus is sure and our future is certain. I look forward to the awesome experiences this February holds out for us as we keep on Sharin’ Plenty Good News!
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