Altered Through Stories We Don’t Trust

Mark 8: 31-38                                                                                Image from A Sanctified Art

Peter just can’t believe it. In the verses just before today’s gospel, Peter identifies who Jesus really is—you are the Christ, the Son of the Living God! And Jesus says no to say anything to anyone. But then Jesus talks quite openly about how there will be suffering, trials, death… resurrection? Jesus said all this quite openly.

What do we do when the story of Jesus, the savior of the world, includes so much suffering and pain? Do we only focus on the glorious end?
Or does the suffering of God leave space for our own suffering? 

I think that mostly, we hope and wish that God would take suffering away. We want for God to move in the world and in our own lives in such a way that there will be less suffering and pain. We know people who live with pain all the time—and that includes some of us gathering today. It is so very hard to live with pain. It changes us and not always in the ways we would like to be changed. Like Peter, we are so likely to say to Jesus—can’t you change this story? 
Wouldn’t it be SO MUCH BETTER and easier if the way your story unfolded involved… well, less of the suffering and dying part?

So we’re tempted to keep laser focus on the glorious end—the resurrection life that awaits us, the resurrection moments that we taste along the way. But, if we ignore the suffering of real life, trying to pretend it doesn’t exist, we’re missing something too.

Just in the way that Jesus rejected Satan’s offers to Jesus to grasp power over human suffering in the wilderness, Jesus rejects Peter’s rebuke. We can’t really understand it but somehow Jesus understood that the way for him would involve suffering, rejection, death and resurrection. 

Then, Jesus invites followers, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.” 

This reminds me of the first prophet that we gathered to listen to last Wednesday evening. We are gathering on Wednesday evenings in Lent for a delicious soup supper, and then for conversation on the book We Survived the End of the World: Lessons from Native America on Apocalypse and Hope by Steven Charleston. Steven Charleston is both an Episcopal priest, former Bishop and theologian who taught at Luther Seminary. He is also a Choctaw elder and sees spiritual lessons for all of us in the terrible suffering and hope-filled survival of Native American communities. This past week, we learned how Ganiodaiio, also known as “Handsome Lake,” turned his culture upside down—introducing foreign concepts such as sin and confession—as part of a visionary, Spirit-led way to help his people transition from a completely communal worldview to a place of embracing some aspects of personal responsibility. Many people still suffered, many people still died… but a remnant survived. Steven Charleston asks us how might we learn from this spiritual vision of turning culture upside down.
In such an me-centered culture, how might God be ready to turn our culture upside down? Charleston imagines that the cross ahead of us that we must take up together is a radical shift from a “me” dominant culture to a “we” reality—in which we are willing to sacrifice personal comfort for the good of all.

 

This is not an argument for suffering in silence from abuse. Instead, Jesus invites us into love in action. Love in action might often look like a harder path, though.

When we are surrounded by a whole culture that tells us… some people have it so much easier than you, don’t you want what they have? Just buy this… just build that… just improve this about yourself… then you’ll have a dreamier life.
Instead, God calls followers into a truth-filled, connected life.

This week, Ben heard a moving story on NPR. It was an interview with a close friend of Aleksei Navalny, Russia’s most prominent political leader who opposed President Vladimir Putin. He had been living in exile in Germany but felt a strong sense that in order to be a Russian politician, he needed to be with the Russian people. He returned to Russia, knowing that he would be imprisoned and last week, he died in a remote prison at age 47.

When the interviewer asked his friend, “He went back to Russia and then he was killed. Isn’t that the worst thing that could have happened?”
And Navalny’s friend said—No, the worst thing would have been if he stayed in Germany. His message to the Russian people was not to give up and to live without fear. So people knew when he came back to Russia that he was really with them. Now, there is a whole generation of young Russians who will remember what he did and will not be intimidated by the current regime.[1]

At the end of the story, they had a clip of his mother’s voice, as she stood in front of the Arctic prison, asking for his body. We are not all called to make this same kind of sacrifice of our lives—but we can certainly recognize the ways this story mirrors the story of Jesus, and the ways it calls us.

We heard at Maureen’s funeral these powerful words – “When we were baptized in Christ Jesus, we were baptized into his death. We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live a new life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.”

We have doubts and fears along the way of life—of course we do—but what might happen if we name the doubts and fears… and allow God, maker of heaven and earth; allow Jesus, the resurrection and life, who suffered death for all humanity, who rose from the grave to open the way to eternal life; allow Holy Spirit, the author and giver of life, the comforter of all who sorrow, our sure-confidence and everlasting hope; allow this transforming God and their stories to change us anyway?
It might turn our culture upside down. It might help us trust. It might be God’s dream.

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[1] For the full interview-- https://www.nytimes.com/2024/02/22/podcasts/the-daily/navalny-putin-russia.html?rref=vanity

 

In Christ, We Gain Vision

Transfiguration of Jesus

Today, I want to begin with words from Joy McElroy, Director of Cherish All Children. These are words she shared in her weekly Wednesday prayer.

 

The Transfiguration is one of those surreal stories of the Bible. The disciples were terrified, they didn’t know what to say, they hear God’s voice telling them to listen to Jesus, and then they’re sent back down the mountain. Peter jumps into problem solving mode offering to set up their dwellings and stay. But God intervenes – listento my Son, the Beloved.
 
These past few weeks have included experiences of fear, pain, grief, and anger for some of my beloveds, and I have thought at times “This is getting to be too much” so I jump in and try to solve it all. And then I remember God’s voice telling me to listen. Listen to the one who is called the Beloved and who calls each one of us beloved.  
 
I’ve been reading Osheta Moore’s book “Dear White Peacemakers” and I love the way she so graciously calls us into our belovedness as a way to enter into anti-racism work. This [perspective] informs [Cherish All Children’s] work to prevent sexual exploitation and trafficking, dismantling systems and structures that have marginalized some communities, making them more vulnerable to exploitation. She expresses,

“I often wonder why Jesus began his ministry standing in line with the poor, the outcasts, the forgotten, the ones riddled with internalized hatred. The Spirit of God, the Spirit that calls us the Beloved, is the Spirit that makes us whole. There is no clearer way to discern the presence of God’s Spirit than to identify the movements of unification, healing, restoration, and reconciliation.”

 
Our work to share resources and support one another in faith communities may not be considered “mountaintop” experiences like that of the Transfiguration, and yet these daily actions may be just what is required of us. Coming down the mountain, being with each other, holding each other up.

Joy, thank you so much for that beautiful reflection, highlighting the call to listen to Jesus (rather than jump right into “solve it” mode). Thank you for the invitation to daily actions that resemble Jesus’ and the disciples’ path—listening, coming down from the mountain, being with each other, holding each other up.

This week, Ann [Jalonen] and Joy [McElroy] and I, along with neighbors from close by and from greater Minnesota, with watershed and ecology experts, with those from government and an energizing consulting team, gathered to be part of the Capitol Mall Design Framework charrette. This was a word that was new to me-- A Charrette is a collaborative planning process that harnesses the talents and energies of all interested parties to create and support a master plan that represents transformative community change. Today a “Charrette” combines creative, intense working sessions with public workshops and open houses. 

So we gathered in working teams to listen to each others’ ideas and dream big together about what could be present in the Capitol Mall and Capitol Area to bring vitality and vibrancy—and just to say that while of course there were voices present to remind the group what has been tried and has failed, there was also such a spirit of excitement and energy around what could be. What if we dared to dream bigger than our fears and past disappointments? What if the Capitol Area could have bathrooms and benches, prairie and indigenous healing herbs, community gardens and picnic spots and water features and playgrounds? What if it could be a place where thousands of people gathered not just to protest but for fun and community? What if people felt interested in coming to these spaces with groups of friends or family to picnic, rest and play? What if it could honor all the people—both the original people who have been here for 12,000 years—and all the rest who have arrived these last 200 years?

In a week when we have heavy machinery in every direction, opening up our church to be visible in all directions for the first time, it was amazing to keep imagining what could be. Some of these plans will start to be implemented right away, even as soon as 2024. Going home from the full day of work together on Tuesday evening, I drove from the History Center up Rice Street and for the first time, I caught a glimpse of our church building, lighted and visible… and it took my breath away. We are transfigured for a moment. This place now is the only standing building in our block—how might we continue to show ourselves as a beacon of hope and light, even as the spaces around us are put back together in new ways. 

In this season of accompaniment, listening to our neighbors even more deeply, how can we continue this work that comes from God—to be with each other and hold each other up, especially when we’re wondering what’s ahead and what in the world God might be calling us to next?

All this season, we’ve repeated these words in the Affirmation of Faith—and again today, we’ll say them—“I could fail every test, miss every goal, drop every ball, and I would still be God’s beloved. Therefore, I cling to this promise like a rock in the storm. I anchor myself with this good news, allowing the anxiety of the day to roll over me as best I can, because I know where I belong. I am a child of God. I am beloved. I strive to live this way.” Today, let’s breathe that truth in again… and speak it together and take it with us.

Let us pray  [the prayer from Joy’s Wednesday Prayer] - 
God of mountaintops and valleys, we come to you with our pains, fears, and loving concern for others. We are each other’s beloved. Help us to hear the cries of those in need and come together to hold one another in your loving care.  Amen.

We find strength and renewal

Isaiah 40 and Mark 1

Yesterday, I attended a workshop offered by the Saint Paul Area Synod—Beginnings & Endings: Contemplating God’s hopeful direction for your congregation. I sat with members of congregations from throughout the area—rural, suburban and city congregations—and we began with worship and then a video about the Two Loops Model from the Berkana Institute.[1] This was a business video, but applied to organizations including churches. We are living systems, not a mechanical system. That means that like all living things, there is a life-span. Living systems aren’t like cars where when something stops working, you can just replace a part. There is a life and death cycle. We have known for a while now what the Covid pandemic brought into clearer focus. Things are changing rapidly. Certain aspects of our life are coming to an end, and new patterns are emerging... and this is NORMAL, but it can be really hard, as death and new life often is… At the workshop we heard, “Our job as systems changings is not all about creating the new. It is as much about helping the existing system decay with dignity so that they new system can emerge.” This is also what we’ll be exploring through the Lenten season—how we can hold on to hope as we “transition our energy resources to the living, growing new system.”

 

More good news in this time of dying and rising is that we have asked all these questions before—we have some practice in this church with adaptive change. More than a hundred years ago, this congregation had to move buildings to the present location. Fifty years ago, the congregation contemplated if they would have to close in response to white flight from the city of Saint Paul. But then, a revitalizing ministry began with Southeast Asian immigrants and refugees and newcomers from many countries. Over twenty years ago, Daily Work sprung up as a response to a critical need for jobs. Nine years ago, I was preaching on these very same scriptures and we were preparing for a Visioning Summit. That was the time and space where we first imagined together that Christ is a tree of life in the city. We were already talking about the need for a renovated kitchen but didn’t know yet how that story would unfold. So we have some practice at asking curious, meaningful questions of each other and our neighbors—

 

            How did you get through that? What is moving you to change?

What’s your next step? What is bringing you joy? 

 

In that spirit, here’s what I notice in this story of Jesus—still in Mark, chapter one, just the beginning of people figuring out who Jesus really is—he has called together a small group of friends, he’s healing their immediate circles of people, restoring Simon’s mother-in-law to health, raising her up… and then she begins to serve them. Jesus didn’t just heal her just so she could make them lunch. The word for “serve” here is diakonia. That in Greek is something like “doing the thing we were created to do.” It’s the same root from which we get diaconal minister, the ordained ministry of word and service… and it’s a way of imagining together that every action, every daily task has deep value.

This story, Simon’s mother-in-law, reminds me of a visit I shared nine years ago with Karin Peterson, an elder in our congregation at that time. I had only met Karin once at the church. In the doorway, she gave me a surprise loaf of cranberry bread. The next encounter was in the hospital, after Karin had a near-death experience. I visited her at Regions and then she moved into continuing care for months. When I visited, she showed an indomitable spirit. She described her resolve to get better and be restored to full health, back to church, back to the CLC Women to do what she had always done, serve…  Doesn’t that sound like Simon’s mother-in-law?

When Karin died, she surprised everyone and left a very large bequest to Christ—the seed money that led us to the renovation of Abundance Kitchen. That gift plus the Welcome Table Capitol Campaign led to having a job for Deacon Kari, deepened partnership with Shobi’s Table and more kitchen partners today. All of this was more than we could have possibly imagined in 2015. We didn’t know that any of this expansion of our ability to serve our neighbors was about to take place nine years ago.

                                     

The Bible has its own truths beyond our understanding of it, but I think that this is how the Bible becomes real and true, how it comes to life for us… when we walk around with its stories and characters in our minds and then we encounter people in our everyday lives and we recognize God’s Spirit within, through and all around their lives. We start from where we are… and then like Jesus went out to pray, we are called to connect with God who helps redirect us about where our next steps should be, if we’re open to that (and sometimes, even if we’re not) … 

We don’t and can’t see the whole path, but sometimes, we get a glimpse of the next step…

 

In our ongoing work with the Riverside Innovation Hub, we are entering into the Season of Accompaniment. This means that we are going to be looking for ways to enter into meaningful conversations with each other—maybe especially those who are in this room that we really don’t know that well—and with neighbors beyond these walls. 

One idea that our Vitality team has had already is that we want to encourage everyone to consider having lunch with Shobi’s—on Tuesdays or Wednesdays or Thursdays or Fridays—and if the weather is okay, sit down to eat your lunch next to another diner. We’ll be watching for ways to have conversations over lunch. 

 

Also, we’re hosting a Good Neighbors’ gathering this Friday at Noon with special guests attending from those who are working on the next plans for the Capitol Mall. We’re hosting the meeting and this Friday, those of us who attend are there to listen—what do our neighbors think is important as our state invests millions of dollars in the vitality of this neighborhood? 

 

Margaret Wheatley writes in her book, Turning to One Another, “There is no power greater than a community discovering what it cares about… [so in these next weeks], notice what you care about. Assume that many others share your dreams. Be intrigued by differences… Real listening always brings people closer together.” What Wheatley describes is what Jesus did—he was “brave enough to start conversations that mattered.” She encourages, “Listen to people you know. Listen to people you don’t know. Listen to people you never listen to… Invite everybody who cares to work on what’s possible.”

 

In 10 days, we’ll begin the season of Lent. However you’ve participated in Lent before, I hope that this time around, you’ll be looking forward to it as a time to give a little extra time for practices that we don’t often allow ourselves to give extra time for… gathering together for prayer, forgiveness, reconciliation, listening conversations with those we sit near but don’t really know, expanding our circles of who we see ourselves as connected to…

For God promises, “Those who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.”

 

So we pray to God, help us in this season of accompaniment, lead us in the next steps, help us notice you—around and within us already—help us hear your calling. We are living systems, dying and rising. As we wait, experiment, fail and hope, we trust in the strength and renewal that you are creating and sharing with us, all the time. Help us find your hopeful direction.

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[1] Two Loops Model, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LQWKmtx8L2s (the part about Bitcoin from minutes 7 to 10 is less relevant for our congregations, but consider the learning on either side).