Today was Week 2 of the Greenwood Lenten Pilgrimage and the pilgrimage took us to Church of the Resurrection Episcopal today. I have always loved Episcopal services and today was no exception. The Episcopal church manages to capture the beauty of the Psalms as communal texts and does a good Body of Christ-like service to the community by offering intercessions. Most of all, I appreciated the homily of the day. The rector of this church is kind of a goofy guy. If you met him on the street, you might find him awkward. But he set all that aside today when he stepped into the pulpit. He preached on the text where Nicodemus goes to Jesus and is told that he must be born of water and the spirit. The passage includes the most famous of NT passages, John 3:16. For God so loved the world that God have God's only son so that all who believe in him will not die but will have everlasting life. The rector offered a most refreshing take on the text today, focusing on one word. The Greek word cosmos, translated world in English. He told us how everywhere else in the book of John, the word cosmos comes with a very negative connotation. We should love God, not the world. We should serve God, not the world. Your treasure should be in heaven, not in the world. But it is this very same world that God came to save.
It was a strangely appropriate message in the midst of all the absolutely stupid things I've heard people say in the last few days. Those things are the same things they said last year when a devastating earthquake stuck Haiti, or back even further when violent storms hit Florida, Louisiana...and the list goes on. I don't know why tragedy strikes (which, if you know me, you know it's a common theme in my thoughts and my writing) but I do know that God didn't come to the world to destroy it, but rather God came down to love it and save it. I don't buy into the idea that God is mad at us and punishing us. Thousands and thousands of people don't die because God is mad. That's a pretty short-sighted view of the fullness of God's love. To be saved, we are born of water and the spirit. I refuse to believe that God would choose (post-Noah, of course) to have us destroyed by water. So, no, I don't know, but before I judge, I will hurt with Japan. I will mourn with Japan. I will pray for Japan...and all the others affected.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Lent 6
But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in, they did not find the body. While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them. - Luke 24:1-4
My current obsession: Mumford and Sons. I have been listening to Mumford pretty constantly lately. The music is sneakily spiritual.
While sitting in the parking lot of the Charleston District Office of the United Methodist Church, I was listening to Sigh No More and listened to Roll Away Your Stone more than a couple of times.
Roll away your stone, I’ll roll away mine
Together we can see what we can find
Don’t leave me alone at this time,
For I am afraid of what I will discover inside
A fitting tune to be stuck on...as I waited for over two hours to go into what I perceived to be the scariest room ever. I was afraid of what a room full of pastors and lay people would find when they rolled away my stone.
So I spent some time in intentional reflection with God rather than sitting in my car wigging out.
How willing are we to roll away our stone? As I said a few days ago, if we are going to try to be like Jesus, we have to do what he did. Now, Jesus, didn't precisely roll that stone away on his own, but the stone was rolled away, nonetheless to discover the body behind it. What the "rollers" discovered was something far different than they could ever expected. They discovered that Jesus was not who they really thought he was--broken, limited, human. They discovered him to be the one with a mission, son of God, sent and called by God. I hope, hope, hope, that allowing the committee on ordained ministry to roll away the stone in my heart and soul that it has revealed a person with a call and heart truly after God's own heart.
My current obsession: Mumford and Sons. I have been listening to Mumford pretty constantly lately. The music is sneakily spiritual.
While sitting in the parking lot of the Charleston District Office of the United Methodist Church, I was listening to Sigh No More and listened to Roll Away Your Stone more than a couple of times.
Roll away your stone, I’ll roll away mine
Together we can see what we can find
Don’t leave me alone at this time,
For I am afraid of what I will discover inside
A fitting tune to be stuck on...as I waited for over two hours to go into what I perceived to be the scariest room ever. I was afraid of what a room full of pastors and lay people would find when they rolled away my stone.
So I spent some time in intentional reflection with God rather than sitting in my car wigging out.
How willing are we to roll away our stone? As I said a few days ago, if we are going to try to be like Jesus, we have to do what he did. Now, Jesus, didn't precisely roll that stone away on his own, but the stone was rolled away, nonetheless to discover the body behind it. What the "rollers" discovered was something far different than they could ever expected. They discovered that Jesus was not who they really thought he was--broken, limited, human. They discovered him to be the one with a mission, son of God, sent and called by God. I hope, hope, hope, that allowing the committee on ordained ministry to roll away the stone in my heart and soul that it has revealed a person with a call and heart truly after God's own heart.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Lent 5
Once upon a time...
There was a squirrel that really liked nuts. He lived in a tree and he looked around for nuts. His name was Nutty. One day, Nutty was looking for nuts and he saw one on the ground. He went down to get it but there was a fox. The fox growled at him. And the squirrel growled back. The squirrel won. The end.
If anyone out there (other than the person who told me this story) reads this, it makes no sense at all. But let's just say that I'm drawing inspiration from this little David and Goliath-esque story. Tomorrow, in all I do I pray to be like Nutty, but not too nutty. :)
So very thankful for good friends who love and support, no matter what.
There was a squirrel that really liked nuts. He lived in a tree and he looked around for nuts. His name was Nutty. One day, Nutty was looking for nuts and he saw one on the ground. He went down to get it but there was a fox. The fox growled at him. And the squirrel growled back. The squirrel won. The end.
If anyone out there (other than the person who told me this story) reads this, it makes no sense at all. But let's just say that I'm drawing inspiration from this little David and Goliath-esque story. Tomorrow, in all I do I pray to be like Nutty, but not too nutty. :)
So very thankful for good friends who love and support, no matter what.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Lent 3 and 4
Disclaimer: Youth event Friday and Saturday kept me away from internet access. I still wrote, but I'm posting those two now.
Walking on Water (Friday, March 11)
And Peter answered him, “Lord if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” He said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat and walked on water and came to Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, “Lord, save me.” Jesus immediately reached out his hand and took hold of him, saying to him, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?”
While talking to a group of youth tonight about Peter, Peter’s journey, and an earnest desire to follow Jesus, this scene came to me in a new way. It hit me like a sack of bricks, actually. We’ve heard this story a million times. Peter sees Jesus walking on the water and Jesus invites him to join him. And then he got out of the boat, walked on the water for a moment, but then got scared and started to sink.
Tonight, reading this story again, I connected to it in a way I never have before. Here’s the scene I pictured. Peter (looking out across the water) says, “Hey, Jesus, is that you? If it’s you, call me out there and help me do what you’re doing.” “Come.” A simple, serious command. Come. Peter steps out on the water and walks across to Jesus. Practicing the secret to balance (don’t look down, focus on where you’re going), Peter’s eyes were fixed on the eyes of Jesus. He made it, on top of the water, all the way out there. I’ve always taken the story at face value..Peter got distracted by the wind and the waves and all of a sudden got scared. But what if before the distraction came the pride? Peter says, “Hey Jesus, this is amazing. I’m on top of the water. Look at me. Look at what I can do. Hey guys, I’m walking on water..” And when he became focused on himself, his own “coolness”, his own ability, he noticed that the wind and the waves were all around him. And he started to sink. And still…STILL, Jesus reached out a hand to save him.
I’ve been struggling this week with some things. Actually, I’ve been struggling with them for quite some time. There are some things I need to do to follow what I believe in my heart to be God’s call. And for so long, I’ve put it off, put it away, and now I feel overwhelmed by all that I’ve pushed away. I keep asking myself, over and over and over, why have I let it get this far? The answer: fear. I’ve been under the false impression that what I’m doing, what I’m working towards is something I’m doing on my own. Look at me. I have to do this. I have to do this on my own. Of course I’m scared when I think I’m out there on my own. But God didn’t say “Come!” on your own. God says, “Come.” And when God asks us to do things, it’s not do them on our own but to participate in what God is doing in us.
But still, Jesus reaches out a hand.
Disciple Now (Saturday, March 12)
Seeing God today was easier than it’s ever been, I think. From getting up in the morning and greeting the day with joy and love to a great Bible study to some wonderful fellowship to worthwhile missions to fantastic fellowship to heartfelt worship… We, as Christians, are called to bear witness to Jesus Christ who was and is and is to come and to help one another and the world see glimpses of the kingdom of God in the here and now and bear hope for the good future in God. As exhausted as I am, I know that’s what I’ve seen today. In study, we learned the Christ who was, the one who lived and died and was resurrected. In fellowship, the light of the living Christ came through the youth and adult leaders in the true joy and love they showed. And watching them (and participating with them) in service to the community today was a great symbol of hope for the good and final future promised to us. These young people leaned into the community, giving of themselves, doing work and sharing in conversation in ways that seemed more mature than I would have expected from them.
A brief post today, but all I need to say is that today I saw the living God who was and is and is to come…everywhere.
Walking on Water (Friday, March 11)
And Peter answered him, “Lord if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” He said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat and walked on water and came to Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, “Lord, save me.” Jesus immediately reached out his hand and took hold of him, saying to him, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?”
While talking to a group of youth tonight about Peter, Peter’s journey, and an earnest desire to follow Jesus, this scene came to me in a new way. It hit me like a sack of bricks, actually. We’ve heard this story a million times. Peter sees Jesus walking on the water and Jesus invites him to join him. And then he got out of the boat, walked on the water for a moment, but then got scared and started to sink.
Tonight, reading this story again, I connected to it in a way I never have before. Here’s the scene I pictured. Peter (looking out across the water) says, “Hey, Jesus, is that you? If it’s you, call me out there and help me do what you’re doing.” “Come.” A simple, serious command. Come. Peter steps out on the water and walks across to Jesus. Practicing the secret to balance (don’t look down, focus on where you’re going), Peter’s eyes were fixed on the eyes of Jesus. He made it, on top of the water, all the way out there. I’ve always taken the story at face value..Peter got distracted by the wind and the waves and all of a sudden got scared. But what if before the distraction came the pride? Peter says, “Hey Jesus, this is amazing. I’m on top of the water. Look at me. Look at what I can do. Hey guys, I’m walking on water..” And when he became focused on himself, his own “coolness”, his own ability, he noticed that the wind and the waves were all around him. And he started to sink. And still…STILL, Jesus reached out a hand to save him.
I’ve been struggling this week with some things. Actually, I’ve been struggling with them for quite some time. There are some things I need to do to follow what I believe in my heart to be God’s call. And for so long, I’ve put it off, put it away, and now I feel overwhelmed by all that I’ve pushed away. I keep asking myself, over and over and over, why have I let it get this far? The answer: fear. I’ve been under the false impression that what I’m doing, what I’m working towards is something I’m doing on my own. Look at me. I have to do this. I have to do this on my own. Of course I’m scared when I think I’m out there on my own. But God didn’t say “Come!” on your own. God says, “Come.” And when God asks us to do things, it’s not do them on our own but to participate in what God is doing in us.
But still, Jesus reaches out a hand.
Disciple Now (Saturday, March 12)
Seeing God today was easier than it’s ever been, I think. From getting up in the morning and greeting the day with joy and love to a great Bible study to some wonderful fellowship to worthwhile missions to fantastic fellowship to heartfelt worship… We, as Christians, are called to bear witness to Jesus Christ who was and is and is to come and to help one another and the world see glimpses of the kingdom of God in the here and now and bear hope for the good future in God. As exhausted as I am, I know that’s what I’ve seen today. In study, we learned the Christ who was, the one who lived and died and was resurrected. In fellowship, the light of the living Christ came through the youth and adult leaders in the true joy and love they showed. And watching them (and participating with them) in service to the community today was a great symbol of hope for the good and final future promised to us. These young people leaned into the community, giving of themselves, doing work and sharing in conversation in ways that seemed more mature than I would have expected from them.
A brief post today, but all I need to say is that today I saw the living God who was and is and is to come…everywhere.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Confession
Lent 2
Yesterday, I felt pretty good about myself, writing all about the beauty of Ash Wednesday and the season's ability to make us understand our frailty and brokenness and mortality in ways that bring us closer to God. I will admit that I felt a need to, in some ways, play up the beauty of the symbol of Lent as it reflects human brokenness. Here's my confession...that was all well and good yesterday, but it was harder today when my brokenness was showing. Today (well, it started yesterday), events have transpired which have left me riddled with anxiety, overwhelmed with nausea, a little asthmatic, at times catatonic, and just in general, a bit weepy. No joke. Sad times.
So my first thought in sitting down to write, as I committed to do, was where in the world did I see God today? Well, I'll tell you. Even when I have felt my absolute worst (which, today ranks pretty far up there), God is always there. Always. The fact that I woke up this morning and showered and pushed myself past the very strong urge to stay in bed...a gift. The fact that I got up for the purpose of taking control of my day and the events which have led me to the edge of a nervous breakdown...a gift and the moving of the Holy Spirit. The fact that God shows up in the people who surround me each and every day...a gift, the moving of the Holy Spirit, and the incarnational ministry of those who serve a living God. Today (among many other days), a couple of people took an extra step for me. A few extra minutes spent doing the job I was supposed to be doing, a warm smile, and loving hug and parental kiss on the head, a bought cup of coffee, an ear to listen, a shoulder to cry on, and a shared meal. That's where I saw God today, and I pray that I will see God there everyday. The love of a friend is nothing more than the love and light of the living God shining through.
And lest you think I am taking back my post from yesterday, I still believe in the beauty of the season of Lent. The journey toward Easter is about walking toward reconciliation, resurrection, and the final perfection of all things. Sure, my frailty was out there for the world to see, but Easter people surrounded me, showing more fully than I can understand on my own, the kingdom of God.
Yesterday, I felt pretty good about myself, writing all about the beauty of Ash Wednesday and the season's ability to make us understand our frailty and brokenness and mortality in ways that bring us closer to God. I will admit that I felt a need to, in some ways, play up the beauty of the symbol of Lent as it reflects human brokenness. Here's my confession...that was all well and good yesterday, but it was harder today when my brokenness was showing. Today (well, it started yesterday), events have transpired which have left me riddled with anxiety, overwhelmed with nausea, a little asthmatic, at times catatonic, and just in general, a bit weepy. No joke. Sad times.
So my first thought in sitting down to write, as I committed to do, was where in the world did I see God today? Well, I'll tell you. Even when I have felt my absolute worst (which, today ranks pretty far up there), God is always there. Always. The fact that I woke up this morning and showered and pushed myself past the very strong urge to stay in bed...a gift. The fact that I got up for the purpose of taking control of my day and the events which have led me to the edge of a nervous breakdown...a gift and the moving of the Holy Spirit. The fact that God shows up in the people who surround me each and every day...a gift, the moving of the Holy Spirit, and the incarnational ministry of those who serve a living God. Today (among many other days), a couple of people took an extra step for me. A few extra minutes spent doing the job I was supposed to be doing, a warm smile, and loving hug and parental kiss on the head, a bought cup of coffee, an ear to listen, a shoulder to cry on, and a shared meal. That's where I saw God today, and I pray that I will see God there everyday. The love of a friend is nothing more than the love and light of the living God shining through.
And lest you think I am taking back my post from yesterday, I still believe in the beauty of the season of Lent. The journey toward Easter is about walking toward reconciliation, resurrection, and the final perfection of all things. Sure, my frailty was out there for the world to see, but Easter people surrounded me, showing more fully than I can understand on my own, the kingdom of God.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Lent 2011
Lent 1
Ash Wednesday has arrived again. Today, we begin Lent and we gather in worship communities all over the world to observe this day. One of the things I think our non-liturgical brothers and sisters miss out on in not observing the season of Lent is the intentional confrontation with the spiritual journey we travel with Christ towards Easter. For those who make their whole lives intentional in this way, I commend you, but I must admit that in the busy and the crazy and the lazy, sometimes I forget to live life on purpose. There is no time of year that I live life more on purpose than in these 40 days (plus Sundays) leading up to Easter.
This past weekend, I preached the sermon in my church and in doing so, invited the congregation to join me in being transifigured with Jesus. (The text was the Transfiguration, of course.) I offered two things we need to do in order to be practitioners of transfiguration. One, you have to shine brightly the light of Christ. And two, you have to walk the walk of Christ. Specifically, at this time of year, we observe the walk of Christ down from a mountain where his glory was celebrated back into a valley and down a dusty road. He was walking, with a great (though troubling) sense of purpose. He walked towards his own death.
We, in this season of Lent, walk with Jesus towards Easter. We spend time-intentional time-attending to the spiritual disciplines meant to bring us into deeper relationship with God. In doing so, we seek to find some of those things that are getting in the way of letting Christ's light shine fully through our lives.
And it is in this day, Ash Wednesday, that we most readily understand the message of the life of Jesus Christ. God came to humanity in the flesh in order to confront mortality for us. When the pastor touches an ashen finger to your forehead, looks you in the eyes, and says, "From dust you came and to dust you shall return," you cannot help but confront your own human frailty. A couple of weeks ago, a pastor friend of mine told me about an Ash Wednesday early in his ministry. He said his wife brought their baby son to Ash Wednesday service. He'd imposed the ashes upon many foreheads before his wife reached the front of the line and it actually startled him to see his wife and fairly newborn son in front of him. Putting an oily ashen thumb to his son's forehead with the promise of dust and the remembrance of repentance transformed his thinking.
So, Lent 2011, I hope to live life on purpose every single day. I will try my best to see God in everyday. I will try to walk this walk and I will hopefully, in doing these things, try to rinse off some of the grime and dust that has been filtering the light of Christ that should be shining from me.
Ash Wednesday has arrived again. Today, we begin Lent and we gather in worship communities all over the world to observe this day. One of the things I think our non-liturgical brothers and sisters miss out on in not observing the season of Lent is the intentional confrontation with the spiritual journey we travel with Christ towards Easter. For those who make their whole lives intentional in this way, I commend you, but I must admit that in the busy and the crazy and the lazy, sometimes I forget to live life on purpose. There is no time of year that I live life more on purpose than in these 40 days (plus Sundays) leading up to Easter.
This past weekend, I preached the sermon in my church and in doing so, invited the congregation to join me in being transifigured with Jesus. (The text was the Transfiguration, of course.) I offered two things we need to do in order to be practitioners of transfiguration. One, you have to shine brightly the light of Christ. And two, you have to walk the walk of Christ. Specifically, at this time of year, we observe the walk of Christ down from a mountain where his glory was celebrated back into a valley and down a dusty road. He was walking, with a great (though troubling) sense of purpose. He walked towards his own death.
We, in this season of Lent, walk with Jesus towards Easter. We spend time-intentional time-attending to the spiritual disciplines meant to bring us into deeper relationship with God. In doing so, we seek to find some of those things that are getting in the way of letting Christ's light shine fully through our lives.
And it is in this day, Ash Wednesday, that we most readily understand the message of the life of Jesus Christ. God came to humanity in the flesh in order to confront mortality for us. When the pastor touches an ashen finger to your forehead, looks you in the eyes, and says, "From dust you came and to dust you shall return," you cannot help but confront your own human frailty. A couple of weeks ago, a pastor friend of mine told me about an Ash Wednesday early in his ministry. He said his wife brought their baby son to Ash Wednesday service. He'd imposed the ashes upon many foreheads before his wife reached the front of the line and it actually startled him to see his wife and fairly newborn son in front of him. Putting an oily ashen thumb to his son's forehead with the promise of dust and the remembrance of repentance transformed his thinking.
So, Lent 2011, I hope to live life on purpose every single day. I will try my best to see God in everyday. I will try to walk this walk and I will hopefully, in doing these things, try to rinse off some of the grime and dust that has been filtering the light of Christ that should be shining from me.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Does music move you?
I'm going on retreat as a youth volunteer with a group of junior high kids and some of their parents. As we've been preparing for the retreat over the past few weeks, the theme for the weekend started to grow out of several conversations. We're going with "Music in the Mountains." There's nothing much more perfect for me given that music is the one thing I'm not sure I could live without in my life. (I could, but it would be super sad.) As a chaplain in the psych unit, I've asked this question many times in reflection groups: "If you lost your hearing, what are five things you'd want to hear just one more time?" I typically get responses like "my kids laughing" or "my husband saying he loves me." It actually astonishes me sometimes how few people mention music. They often ask me what my five would be.
In no certain order: 1)Schubert's Ave Maria 2)Yo-Yo Ma playing Bach's Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major (probably, the Allemande movement in particular, but the whole thing, really) 3)Van Morrison's Moondance 4)The simultaneous sound of waves crashing and wind rustling through the palmettos 5) And probably Ali Farka Toure's Ai Du. Yes, my list is almost entirely music.
Someone once asked me, "Does music move you?" There is no other answer than, absolutely YES.
In no certain order: 1)Schubert's Ave Maria 2)Yo-Yo Ma playing Bach's Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major (probably, the Allemande movement in particular, but the whole thing, really) 3)Van Morrison's Moondance 4)The simultaneous sound of waves crashing and wind rustling through the palmettos 5) And probably Ali Farka Toure's Ai Du. Yes, my list is almost entirely music.
Someone once asked me, "Does music move you?" There is no other answer than, absolutely YES.
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