bread and friendship

What do Ruth 1 and John 6 have in common? Turns out, quite a bit! Bread, friendship, God's never-ending promises... read on!

I will go where you go
Ruth 1, John 6
August 25, 2012

My family is in worship this morning and because they're here, I have to tell you that one of my favorite things is how our family, if we see a rainbow, pulls over and stops the car to get a better look. I mean, when something like that happens, when there's an opportunity to wonder at God's promises, how can we not pause and take it in

The story of Ruth and Naomi is also one of my favorites. It's a story that in Jewish ears had to sound especially predictable. After all, God is all about turning things that are upside-down, right-side up… so Bethlehem (the place of bread) is suddenly without bread. There's a drought. The breadbasket is empty. So they leave home for Moab and stay in that foreign land for quite a while. They stay long enough for Naomi's sons, whose names mean "sickly" and "weak" to grow up, marry and die, as you'd expect with names like those . But what seems totally unexpected is the way that Ruth won't leave Naomi; she is not "one- of-us," she's a daughter-in-law, a foreigner … but she won't leave. She won't leave Naomi even when this woman decides to change her name from "sweet" to "bitter." She won't leave when Naomi tells her it'd really be better for both of them if she'd just go. Even when Naomi gives her the silent treatment in response to her promise of fidelity, Ruth persists in following after Naomi with love, faithfulness and devotion.

In fact, Ruth goes even a step further than love. Ruth actually puts a curse on herself if she doesn't honor her own promise to stick with Naomi through whatever comes next. In a way, you could say Naomi didn't have a choice so she headed back home to Bethlehem, with Ruth's clinging presence, just in time for the harvest. That's where our reading ends today… but I encourage you to go home and read the whole story. It's just four chapters long and full of great bits--romance, intrigue.

Here's a spoiler alert! As the story of Ruth goes on, in four short chapters, we get to see how this relationship, forged in grief and uncertainty, brings a blessing not only for both women but for generations after. Ruth finds food, meets Boaz, takes Naomi's advice, and makes risky advances toward Boaz. Luckily, Boaz is more than happy to marry Ruth. They have a son, Obed, who continues Naomi's line, securing her future. All the women in the community say, "Wow! This Ruth is worth more than seven sons." And that is quite a commendation.

So, promising Naomi means two women go from starving wanderers back to the breadbasket--Bethlehem--and there, they find all their needs fulfilled abundantly. Ruth, the strange promise-making daughter-in-law from Moab, becomes in the Biblical story not only a named ancestor of King David but one of those few women named in the New Testament as an ancestor of Jesus. Ruth is someone, the Biblical story tries to show us, who makes more clear who God is--God is One who clings to us, who makes the promise not to leave us, who will through her presence provide all we need to live, who gives a future worth living for even after death.

Those are quite the promises. That is a new level of deep friendship. And Ruth's story gives a promise-making lens to interpret the deep friendship that Jesus shares with disciples--as he tries to help them understand how he is the bread they need for life.

For weeks, we've heard Jesus saying "I'm the bread of life," but this week, it gets kind of gory. Jesus starts talking about how people need to chomp on his flesh and drink his blood--and frankly, that's pretty disgusting. People leave Jesus in droves at this point. And do we exactly get it either? We're not cannibals after all. This communion we share--body and blood, bread and wine--is really Christ but not exactly that way, right? So, why does Jesus go this far to try to make it real? Why does Jesus have to make it gross to help us get it? After all, what Jesus is about is much more than eating bread, right?

Yes. And no. It seems like Jesus wants to be sure that we don't lift him up on such a pedestal that we start to think he was just a figment of our imagination. I think Jesus wanted to keep it real so that we remember Jesus was and is accessible. It's not, "I am caviar, given for you." Jesus isn't just for the elite. Jesus offers himself as something accessible, ordinary, something we can all reach out and touch. A promise we can chew on.

It seems like Jesus wants to make sure that we get that he was really earthy--flesh and blood. Why? Well, because we are. Jesus says in another place in scripture something like this, "You think I'm amazing? Well, you will do greater things than these!" Don't believe it? Well, it's a promise. We are not off the hook because we think we are so much more insignificant than Christ. We don't have to be the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. or Mother Theresa in order to be "little Christs," in order to be bread, to care for the poor and vulnerable, to make a difference in the world God loves and wants to heal. God wants to do that through us, mere human beings, real flesh and blood people with all our gifts and challenges.

 It seems like Jesus wants us to hear the promise that when we share bread and wine in Holy Communion, Jesus is really here, like Ruth: clinging to us, never leaving us, providing all we need to live, giving a future worth living for, even in the face of death. Jesus gives his body so that we might become the body of Christ more fully for those who we'll go out to meet all through this week.

This past week, the community that I served for five years in Chicago lost a 27-year old man who drowned. In the face of that devastating loss, Jesus promises his family and friends lost in grief, who don't know where to turn, "I will not leave you." I am the bread that will sustain you hour-by-hour, day-by-day… as you work to put back together lives broken by sorrow.

 Jesus is bread not only in days of abundant harvest, but in days of drought. Jesus is bread not only in times of prosperity but in harsh economic times. Jesus is bread not only in joyful times but in times of unspeakable pain and loss. Like our kids, in times when both storm clouds and rays of sun seem to be charging up against one another at an astounding rate, we have the opportunity to look up in the sky at the multi-colored bow and gasp, "There's the sign of God's promises” … and know those promises are not fiction.

Jesus promises, "I will never leave you." In all of life's circumstances, Jesus clings to us, saying “I will go where you go.” Following in the faithful footsteps of his ancestor Ruth, Jesus promises, "I will never leave you."  

rethinking stewardship

Rethinking Stewardship

At the end of July, I had the opportunity to attend a conference at Luther Seminary called “Rethinking Stewardship: Connecting Faith and Finances.” Here are some of my notes and thoughts from that conference, hopefully bread to chew on as we move into a new season, a time when people in congregations often reflect together on money.

“When Jesus talked about money, he wasn’t asking for any… but asking about your relationship with it. Whether you have a lot or only a little, what you do with money will impact your faith. It can lead your heart to or away from Jesus.”

We live in a culture where daily we live through a barrage of messages that who we are and what we have are not quite enough. In an information-saturated society, there are huge narratives out there—capitalism, consumerism, materialism—this is not new information but maybe the increase in volume is significant. The average person in the U.S. is impacted by 5000 ads a day! People of faith might feel like we’re different, like we’re a little less influenced by all this messaging to buy, want, need, pursue, desire, control, make it. But, we’re in the thick of it too.

Just think, if we worship together just once a week, how small and insignificant that seems in comparison to 5000 advertising impressions a day. But, on the other hand, we dare to believe that as God gathers us together around God’s story, it’s a step toward a community that can help us live differently—in God’s counter-narrative.

So, here’s a few images of what that might look like:

·       Worship as the place where we prepare for all the rest of the week. What stories, songs and prayers can we carry with us as we go to keep us afloat in a powerful sea?

·       Times in our gatherings (worship, meetings, social events) where we want to hear people’s responses to this question, “Where have you seen God at work in your lives?”

·       A day of rest each week from buying, spending, coveting (wishing for something we don’t have).

·       Conversations with our kids and teens about money. Did you know that: U.S. teens earn $5.6 billion per year. They spend $100 billion per year. How do we talk with each other openly about how the choices we make with our money can change the world?

·       How do we decide and prioritize what we share, save and spend? Who do we tell about those priorities? (For more on this, see sharesavespend.com or millenialimpact.com)

·       How do we vote with our money? St. Paul-Ref has had continuing conversations about supporting businesses on University Avenue through the construction. What are other places where through the practice of using and giving our money, God might lead us in a new way?

This time of Rethinking Stewardship, an article about kids and money in the most recent issue of Thrivent magazine, and the same theme in the September issue of Gather (ELCA Women’s magazine) all have me wondering, how can we have more opportunities as we gather to talk about money openly with one another—as those who have little, as those who have much, in community?

One idea that parents of teens have shared with me is to inaugurate a “youth forum” during the education hour, an arena for real conversation on a variety of topics. What ideas do you have to energize our real conversation with each other about how we share, save and spend money and how that makes a difference in our faith?

Blessings this September,
Pastor Joy

share bread

Come share bread 

St. Paul-Reformation

August 12, 2012

This past week has been marked for me by restless sleep.

After our FUN celebration last week, where I felt like I saw more clearly some things about you as a group—people of St. Paul-Ref—your spark, the gift of talking back, your pitching in to help each other, everyone lending a hand, really a day of joy...

After that, it has been a rough week. First, it was the news of violent shooting, again. This time, members of the Sikh community were shot and killed, who knows why. Hours later the search teams found women and children still hiding in fear for their lives.

Then, it was a meeting where leaders of the congregation discussed challenges in which there is no clear way forward, every step is uncertain and really puts us to the test as we try to listen not just for what we want but for what God would have us do.

And finally, it was hearing the devastating news that someone I have just been getting to know, someone who inspires me, who is a gifted leader, someone who loves the church has a serious diagnosis. She will have to give all her energy in the coming days to fight for her life. Maybe some of you have had this kind of week as well... And if you didn't have it this week, I'm sure that you can think back to a time when you did... When it seemed like the floor was caving in beneath you and what in the world could give you strength?

That's where we find Elijah, just into the wilderness...already starving, fainting from thirst, collapsed in fear, regret, uncertainty, maybe anger at God. And frankly, when life turns this way... When we're walking through the valley, on the brink, haven't we all had the thought, like Elijah, that maybe it'd be better or at least easier to die?

But what is God's response to despair? God sends a messenger, a baker. That gifted one makes a hearty cake, bakes it on stones and says to Elijah, eat it. Then, realizing one is not going to do it, this baker from God makes another. Kind of like a grandma, “Come on, eat it.” You need it to build your strength for what's ahead.

That story of bread--two little cakes that give strength for 40 days in the wilderness--impacts how we hear when Jesus calls himself bread. Just a little is going to take you a long way.

This week, the people at Bible Matters remembered the hearty German bread and how it sticks with you all day. Others named places where bread isn't the main, daily sustaining food... Such as parts of the world where rice is that common sustaining food. Just about everyone though had some kind of bread story. Bread, rice, croissants... All the ingredients that go into a loaf... How dependent and fragile we all are.

In calling himself bread, Jesus is also naming this reality of life, that it's so temporary, it's perishable. Like manna, we can't hold on to bread forever. It has this "use it or lose it" dynamic. Life is short and in these texts, there is an urgency. We need sustenance for this journey... Whether today the journey looks long or whether today our time feels far too short.

And so the writer to the Ephesians says in a whole variety of ways, let's give it our best. Like those Olympic athletes, let's go for it. You need to be angry? Well, be angry but also take the steps you need to take to work through that and move on. In fact the letter writer says, set things right today. 

This week, I needed to take have a conversation that I was dreading. I felt afraid because in conflict, we never feel like we've done it totally right... We open ourselves up to missing the boat. It's possible that the other will have plenty to say back or won't receive it. So we tend to avoid the person we need to talk to, saying our deepest truths elsewhere.

It initially feels easier to go around them. But you know what happened?

I said, "I didn't understand why you did that." And that person said, "I'm sorry."

And suddenly, a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. We had both made mistakes, and we worked through it, just letting some of it go. But I left thinking, huh. I feel so much better. This is what can happen when we acknowledge that it's ok in our fragile human communities, where every one of us has our unique set of gifts and challenges, to go to someone directly and be angry. Although it might seem harder at first to go and do that work, it opens up the possibility of experiencing in a new way the full humanity of the other and being able to see each other not as problems or adversaries but as bread—

broken yet blessed. Brought together to restore and sustain and encourage one another because God-with-us is right here, in the flesh, among us, within us. Jesus says, "I'm the bread of life--"I'm infused into you all so much you can't even go out of here without me (kind of sneaky, eh?)" Like a yeasty kitchen full of the smell of bread that you walk through and carry the scent of it on your person...

This bread we're going to share is like that, fragrant, nourishing, a little bit is going to take you through the week until we meet here again for Jesus' life-sustaining gift. It's bread and it's more than bread because it reminds us that we are what we eat. We receive it and we become it--the body, the face or voice or hands of God that someone desperately needs to see, hear, receive. We become what we eat. Come, share bread.

love wins

There’s more to the story…. love wins.

Amos 7 and Mark 6

July 15, 2012

It would be totally legitimate today, I think, at the end of this excerpted story from Mark to say, instead of “Thanks be to God,” a response that I learned in the Black church… Well? Well seemed to have a whole host of meanings… a healthy skepticism, a good questioning, a wondering, a self-searching—what does this mean for me? For us? It seems right to bring that whole group of questions to these stories of God’s prophets and what happens to them when they speak God’s living word.

Amos was an ordinary shepherd, a tree caretaker—it seems like that kind of profession would give a person a lot of time for reflection. I remembering reading at the Chicago arboretum a few years back that it took over 6,000 hours to do the kind of hand-pruning that was needed each year to keep the Japanese gardens in shape. So if being a “dresser of sycamore trees” was anything like that, this was a man who had plenty of hours to listen for the voice of God, to find the center of things—and in that encounter, when God spoke, what did God ask Amos to say?

Oh, that the king will die and that God will destroy both the religious and secular infrastructure of the whole kingdom. Insurrection. Sedition. That’s popular. Yet, Amos spoke this dangerous word because he knew God’s bigger story—that when the poor are not cared for, the kingdom falls. He spoke the truth not because it was safe but because God’s living word came to him in such a compelling way that he couldn’t simply be a follower of herds anymore, he had to go right to the house of God and speak.

According to Mark, Jesus, too, was taking followers and transforming them, turning them loose as leaders. He gave them authority over spirits and forces that oppressed people, he told them to take nothing with them—as they went out, they had to learn a radical kind of trust… They had to receive hospitality from others, making themselves vulnerable in a new way (instead of self-sufficient). They went out with the message that God was turning the whole world around (from upside down to right-side up) and as they went, they healed people, pouring oil over their heads, a kind of royal treatment.

When Herod heard about this movement, he recognized it. He had killed John in a gruesome way… but this was the same kind of thing all over again. It was as if that holy man was raised from the dead. They thought they had killed the prophet, silenced the voice of dissent, but there was far more to the story.

Brutality, judgment and punishment are not the end of either of these stories. God is a God of justice… but that’s not all. Unlike Herod, who makes a rash promise and cruelly keeps it, God continually works to over-turn and win people through a seemingly unending ability to forgive. Again and again, God keeps forgiving people, giving us another chance, taking our missed opportunities and creating new starts. God shows us not only how to keep promises but an example of a holy, risky change of mind. God is a God of justice but finally, love wins.

So in view of that story, what about us? What do we see? What do we hear?

We need the voice of Amos—the south-to-north missionary—to remind us how real God’s presence is. God is not simply going to let injustice and harm go on forever, particularly injustice that’s given out by God’s own people.

We can look around, and we don’t have to look too far to see events and systems and ways of being all around us… and even in us… where if God were measuring with a plumb line, we would all be measured and found wanting.

We see evidence of random, senseless violence daily. Some of us live very close to that reality. Others live more protected lives… but none of us really escapes the ways that in just a blink of an eye, it gets personal. None of escapes the deeper problems: suffering and death, fear, distrust, frantic busyness, lack of a center, hopelessness… 
From time to time, God opens our eyes to the way that in the dominant stories all around us, people are not loved, valued, cared for as whole people. If we stop for even a moment to take it in, life can feel overwhelmingly full of random violence, meaninglessness, deep suffering, and despair.

But that’s not all there is. Much as we need to look outward and inward with a prophet’s brutal honesty… we need to look even further.

There is more to the story.

God never gives up listening to our cries. Jesus keeps sending people out, not as lonely prophets but two by two… and when senseless death seems to have the last word, even those stories point to the One who brings more to the story—Jesus Christ, the One whose broken body was also lovingly laid in the tomb, the one who died and was raised to give us new life.

Because of Jesus, we know that:

Exile will not last forever.  War will not last forever.

Cruelty will not last forever.          Brokenness will not last forever.

Abuse will not last forever.           Systemic injustice will not last forever.

Racism, nor any –ism, will not last forever. Pain will not last forever.

Homelessness will not last forever.       Illness will not last forever.

Addiction will not last forever. Despair, depression will not last forever.

Loneliness will not last forever.

Just like the ancient prophets… today, too, God longs to speak this living word through us—just ordinary people, people who wouldn’t consider ourselves prophets but who are gardeners, caretakers, workers, administrators, teachers, parents, volunteers, friends. God  keeps creating more to the story… new life in the face of death, hope replacing despair.

And we practice that more-to-the-story here, each time we take a hand, look into each others eyes and say those powerful words of blessing that Jesus shared over and over in the face of terror, fear and death… Peace be with you.

We’ll practice it today. Peace be with you.

That’s God’s vision for us—that we carry in our bodies a strong counter-story to the story of death all around us today—that we, like the prophets, might be the ordinary people through whom God can work. That we might be like those disciples, who through knowing Jesus, are empowered to go out… to proclaim a new and different way of being in the world together, to be about healing, to treat one another with the deepest of love and respect.

And when we fail or when we can’t, even then… we can still trust that there is more to the story—because according to the One who was, and is and is to come, love wins.

This is the good news, the gospel of the Lord. Thanks be to God.

Let us pray…

God, you call us, ordinary people, to a life that is uncertain. We can’t see what the end will be. Sometimes we’re not even sure we’re on the right path because although some things are familiar, we haven’t ever gone exactly this way before. In light of all that, it’s easy to feel afraid and anxious. Take that fear away and replace it with trust in you. Give us faith to go out today with courage, not knowing where we are headed but knowing that you are with us through the journey. Your hand is stretched out to us. Your love surrounds and fills us, making love for others possible, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen

After a long break, I've decided to begin blogging again at Blessed to be a witness. Although my context has changed, there are still so many ways to witness (experience and tell about) God working daily. Now, I am a Transition Pastor at St. Paul-Reformation. So... a new place and a new attempt to be about that work of witnessing to God at work in daily life, in transitions, in discernment.

This week, I've been reading Life and Livelihood: A Handbook for Spirituality at Work. Author Whitney Wherrett Roberson draws together ideas and stories from a whole variety of faith traditions to imagine how in our work days we can more fully experience abundant life. There are two things that stand out to me about how this book is written, modeling for readers (and workers) how to shape the work day. Each section begins with an opportunity to center. Breathe deeply. Check in... Each section ends with these words, "Bless: Offer the person on your left a word of hope or blessing for the coming week."

This is meant to be used as a resource for small, Christian or interfaith groups that get together in their workplace. I am thinking about how it might be used here at St. Paul-Reformation in the various groups that gather. I am also wondering how many people have the opportunity to gather in the middle of their work days with others for these kinds of conversations. Wouldn't that be an amazing thing to begin if it is not happening, yet if there is opportunity?

We are witnesses

Easter Sermon preached at the Intern Sending Service
Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago
April 2011

They shall be radiant

They shall come and sing aloud on the height of Zion, and they shall be radiant over the goodness of the LORD, over the grain, the wine, and the oil, and over the young of the flock and the herd; their life shall become like a watered garden, and they shall never languish again.
- Jeremiah 31:12

Contemplating transitions?

Check out Cafe: Stirring the Spirit Within where I wrote a faith reflection and study questions on "Transitions."

Spirit tending

Today, I had the opportunity to reflect with my spiritual director on an image that I've loved for a long time--"Tree of Life" by Kristin Gilje. I have a copy of Kristen's beautiful painting in my office and a photo of that painting on my laptop so I see it nearly every day.

The image shows the tree of life with its roots firmly planted in the river of life. There's a rainbow in the water's spray and the tree is lush--with the twelve kinds of fruit and the leaves for the healing of the nations (Revelation 22). Within the trunk of the tree is a human image, an image of the divine One perhaps.

It is a beautiful and life-giving image for me, reminding me of what's important in our busy days--to cling to that tree, to firmly plant our roots in living water, to take in nourishment from the One who is our source so that we might bear fruit.

As you consider next steps in your life, God give you refreshment and all that you need to sustain you,
Pastor Joy

Earth Year at LSTC

This lush tree is across the street from my home and as we walk by it each night, we've imagined that its name is "Elwood." We speak to it--hang in there through the winds of stormy nights; thank you for your shade; you are beautiful and grand.
Yesterday, I had the opportunity to read a moving article in the most recent edition of Spiritus--by Mary Frolich called "Under the Sign of Jonah: Studying Spirituality in a Time of Ecosystemic Crisis"--I recommend it highly. I was moved by the themes of the article to spend the evening at the shore of Lake Michigan.

The summer feels like its coming to an end--classes will soon be in session again--and with that, there is both grief and joy. We will welcome students back to campus! The days are growing shorter once again but peaches are in season. The warmth of the sun will fade but we will have the opportunity to enjoy the harvest, cultivated in its rays. And, at LSTC, it is the beginning of our Earth Year! If you're on Facebook, check out Earth Year at LSTC: 2009-2010.

Blessings,
Pastor Joy

on the brink of big decisions...

In the midst of our church making decisions together, I pray for each of you who contemplate seminary and leadership/service in the church. I turn again and again to the story of Esther and her mentor/uncle Mordecai's call and question to her to step up on behalf of her people, "Who knows? Perhaps you are in this place and this time for just such a time as this."
Her response? In paraphrase: I will go and if I perish, I perish.

This is a time when leadership in the church is critically needed. We need people willing to take risks--even to put their life on the line on behalf of God's people. Could you be one of those who God is calling for "such a time as this?" Leadership as a pastor or rostered leader will certainly not be glamorous, as we might imagine Queen Esther's to have been or as we might imagine some past incarnation of "pastor" to have been... but that does not make the need any less great.

The future of our church body, our institutions, our congregations is not altogether certain but God's faithfulness is unending. God is still calling leaders into service. God sends the Holy Spirit to gather, enlighten, enliven and santify the church, the body of Christ--and perhaps the way of the church will radically change as we go into the future, but the One who died and was raised accompanies us on this journey... through whatever may come.

In the One who died and was raised to new life,
Pastor Joy

dreaming awake

To prepare for the ELCA Youth Gathering in New Orleans, I attended a film showing of "Trouble the Waters," an independent film. It showed not only the hurricane and breaking of the levees at the time of hurricane Katrina but the aftermath over the course of two years. Some of the things that I learned in this film, I had not heard before.

The prison was not evacuated. Workers took the TVs out before the storm began, then locked everyone in their cells. For days, there was no food or water, just a locked prison. The hospital was not completely evacuated. Some people were simply left to die in their beds. When people from the ninth ward realized they were going to have to get themselves out--they would not be rescued--they were told by the Coast Guard to go to the Navy base (but no one aparently communicated that to the Navy base) because at the Navy base (where there were hundreds of empty beds), the men kept the people out at gunpoint. They received an award from President Bush for mitigating what "might have been a violent interaction."

Story after story showed how this was not a natural disaster but a disaster of human failure upon failure...from the failure of the levees to the failure to meet promises made to people who suffered through this ordeal.

Now, I'm here in New Orleans, mostly protected from the realities of that time by a sparkly French quarter, beautiful hotel and a massive Convention Center. However, amidst the fun, there are moments for engaging the realities. Youth and adults are donating their blood and their hair for those who need it. There is the opportunity to walk through a FEMA trailer and to learn at a Freedom School. And, we are entering hurricane season. It's muggy hot and thick with humidity. Each day, it's rained in the middle of the afternoon.

That's maybe part of why I dreamed this morning that it was happening to us. In the dream, there was a smell and we looked outside at the swelling river and cried out, "The levee's breaking." We started running, we were calling out for family and friends. Although I tried, I couldn't fall back asleep after that. The fear was too real; my heart was beating too fast.

In Isaiah 43, we read:
"Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you."
This word--from the God who created us, who formed us.

We were asked in the mass gathering at the start of this event to bear witness (to see, to hear, to experience) and to tell the truth about what was experienced here in New Orleans. How God was here through the flood, present with those for whom the water was up to their neck. Present as neighbors reached out to one another and gave help. Present, wearied and grieving, as humans failed one another.

God is present with you, too, as you consider next steps in your life, as you listen for God's call. If you are overwhelmed, hold on to this. The One who created you and who forms us in community is with you--you are precious in God's sight and honored and loved. God will make a way out of no way.

Wade in the water, for there, God can hide you & protect you--and on the other side is freedom.
Pastor Joy

first course: dignity

"Dignity"
Trinity Lutheran Church
Volunteers serving the homeless
First course: dignity

Read the story behind the ad.

theology in a nutshell

Today, I had reason to remember that conversation years ago on my NE Iowa Candidacy Committee when they asked, "What's the gospel in a nutshell?" I gave an answer somewhat similar to the words in John 3:16... God loves us and because God loved us so much, God gave us Jesus who gave his life for us. My answer didn't meet their expectations and they encouraged me to work on it. Somehow, by the grace of God, I eventually spoke some word that reassured them that I could be approved for ordination and make the promises to preach and teach in accordance with the holy scriptures, the creeds and the Lutheran confessions--that my theology was Lutheran. "We are saved by grace through faith and that is not our own doing but is a gift of God."

I've never been very comfortable with pat answers for complex questions. That said, I can understand why people ask. What we believe about God, God's role in the world, sin and evil, our role in the world as flawed and amazing human beings--all of that is important. And we especially want to know where our leaders are coming from on these most important matters.

In ministry, though, it's surprising how seldom one is asked "What's your theology?" More often the questions come in other forms. Why did God allow that to happen? What am I supposed to do with my life? What does the Bible say about ____? Does God love me? And even then, if I fall into answering, those answers are not always most helpful.

What I do know is that God has given a variety of gifts... some of us are passionate about stunning articulation of profound truths, some of us can speak a real and concrete word of God's love for the sinner and transformation of lives, some of us cling to the wonder and mystery of the God of all creation, some of us hear the voice of Jesus speaking right to our hearts, some of us are working for God's reign of justice and peace to be realized more fully. We see Jesus as lord, savior, friend, teacher/prophet, lover. It seems to me that all these ways of sensing God's presence in our lives are needed--not only broadly among people of Christian faith--but even among Lutherans. God created a body with a beautiful diversity.

Perhaps one of my strongest convictions is that God has created us to love us. Jesus showed us who God is and loved us even to the point of dying but God raised him from the dead. When Jesus' earthly life was done we received an Advocate--the Holy Spirit who calls, gathers, enlightens and sanctifies. We are broken vessels but God continues to work, a patient potter, to mold us--into those who love God and one another. I'm still not sure I've got that "gospel in a nutshell" answer right (maybe you feel that way too) but God is not finished with us yet.

As we grapple with theology on the way,
Pastor Joy

you have come down to the lakeshore

You have come down to the lakeshore... I love this hymn about how Jesus seeks not necessarily who we might expect but the one who has just a little, just a small boat, and who is willing to leave even that little to follow Jesus wherever Jesus calls.

Recently, I had the opportunity to be in the great northwoods of Wisconsin, and to sit at this lakeshore and admire the light of the setting sun on this group of small boats.

I can get caught up in many things--and it was good to sit and ponder a simple scene, an abandoned beach, and to listen quietly for God's voice. I don't like waiting but waiting is certainly a part of call. Waiting for something to emerge, waiting for God's voice to become clearer, waiting for the time to be right... thanks be to God that in this season, we experience not only waiting but buds unfolding, leaves unfurling, flowers opening. This is a season when something is happening; even if we do not yet know the end, things have begun.

Blessings as buds unfold,
Pastor Joy

Spring in Chicago

Psalm 23 - words from Bobby McFerrin

The Lord is my Shepherd, I have all I need,
She makes me lie down in green meadows,
Beside the still waters, She will lead.

She restores my soul, She rights my wrongs,
She leads me in a path of good things,
And fills my heart with songs.

Even though I walk through a dark and dreary land,
There is nothing that can shake me,
She has said She won't forsake me,
I'm in her hand.

She sets a table before me, in the presence of my foes,
She anoints my head with oil,
And my cup overflows.

Surely, surely goodness and kindness will follow me,
All the days of my life,
And I will live in her house,
Forever, forever and ever.

Glory be to our Mother, and Daughter
and to the Holy of Holies,
As it was in the beginning, is and ever shall be
World without end. Amen

seeds of call

"Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit... those who love their life lose it... now my soul is troubled." Jesus as described in John 12:24, 25, 27

It's heart-wrenching. It's true. Creation and even the One who according to John "was in the beginning with God" dies in order that new life/fruit might spring up.

But it's not suicidal, it's not a giving up on life or a turning inward so that he can't see anything but death. Jesus loves life. Jesus loves people and wants to be with them... so no wonder his soul is troubled as he looks to the cross. It's one thing to be compared to the healing serpent in the wilderness, it's another to face the "lifting up" that will mean death on a cross. God loves the whole creation so much that God gives us Jesus who walks with us even to death--and somehow, doesn't beg to get of out of it... doesn't run away... says to disciples who can't even bear to think about the cross "when I am lifted up from the earth [on which I love to walk], I will draw all people to myself."

And so we're drawn in... to the story, to Jesus' stretched out arms, to Jesus' loving embrace.
And the seeds of the Spirit's calling are planted... and wait to sprout and grow.

In this fertile season,
Pastor Joy

what kind of greeting?

Today is the day of the Annunciation of Our Lord. I've read so many good nuggets about this day when an angel messenger, Gabriel, came to Mary with the words, "Greetings, favored one. The Lord is with you!"
And she pondered what kind of greeting this might be.

Smart girl. People of faith sometimes look at Mary as simply an obedient servant, acquiescing to God's will. However, I notice her questions. "What does this mean? How can this be?"

Before she says the courageous "let it be," she looks at Gabriel with the quizzical eyes of a teenager. But because she trusts God, she's game.

Right between Lenten Sundays four and five, where Jesus describes in more and more detail God's love for all people and his willingness to face even the cross for us, we look back to the story of Jesus' conception--when Mary heard how a call from God that would change her whole life, heard who she would bring to birth and somehow passed on these seeds of this "yes" to her son.

As we go through these days of life and death and messengers from God (however cleverly disguised), may we be filled with the power of the Holy Spirit to say in response to God, "let it be with me according to your will"... even with our questions along the way.

Pastor Joy

Jesus in the wilderness

Mark 1:9-14
Preached at Bethany College

I’m not sure there is any gospel more like a film than Mark. And this is one meant to change your life.

Mark’s gospel reads like an action-thriller and you can read the whole thing in about the same time as you could watch an action film. The first scenes feature John—a wild man—in the wilderness, plunging his hand into the beehive and plucking critters off the ground to get something to eat. Living in the wilderness changes people… and it made John a radical. He preached such a provocative message that by 10 minutes into the story, he’s been arrested.

Then comes Jesus’ baptism by John. Jesus has an amazing experience coming up out of the water—something dramatic happens in the sky and the Spirit descends on him and a voice speaks to Jesus, “You are my Son, the Beloved, with you I am well pleased.” But the same Spirit that descends like a dove is not just a peaceful presence—without time to take a breath, that Spirit drives Jesus into the wilderness.

Jesus spends 40 days there. Hmmm… forty days, like the days and nights of the flood—that Noah and his family and all creatures spent on the ark. Forty days, the time that Moses spent with God on Sinai. Although we don’t know exactly the significance, 'forty days and forty nights' is a common duration for great transitions.

During this great transition, Jesus experiences temptation by Satan, lives with wild beasts, and angels serve him. We don’t know exactly what the temptation was like or how Jesus felt surrounded by the wild things—was he afraid for his life or was it more like the vivid painting by Stanley Spencer where a grizzled Jesus is meditating on a scorpion cradled in his hands?
Angels served Jesus… we don’t know what messages or ministering they brought, but throughout the biblical drama, most often, angels say… “Don’t be afraid” so we can imagine that they are voices of reassurance during the isolated, sparse, thirsty wilderness time.
So we get a glimpse of how 40 days in the wilderness prepared Jesus for the ministry to come. And why, when John was arrested, Jesus was ready to step in & begin right where John left off, proclaiming saying—“The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.”
These are the first public words of Jesus and they flow right out of his time in the wilderness.

Wilderness changes people and that’s why we’re invited to the wilderness journey of Lent. If you were baptized, someone traced the sign of the cross on your forehead and said, “You are marked with the cross of Christ forever.” At the end of your life, someone may again anoint you with that same cross. And in between, we have annual Ash Wednesdays—like the one just past—where we’re marked with ashes and oil and reminded that we don’t go on this wilderness journey alone.

Wilderness time is not easy but it is definitely clarifying. Like one of my colleagues said about Tiger Wood’s loss yesterday at his first tournament since surgery—it will only make him stronger. Wilderness means challenge, difficulty; it shows us where we still need to grow.

Ten years ago, I spent a year volunteering at Holden Village, a retreat center in the Cascade mountains in Washington state and throughout that year, I had some amazing experiences of wilderness—both incredibly rich experiences and incredibly challenging experiences. I remember hiking up mountain passes and down snowy trails. We saw bears (from a safe distance) and incredible mountain lakes. When we are face to face with creation’s beauty and immensity, it’s incredible detail, we have the opportunity to experience wonder at God’s magnificent work and humility that we are a small part of this great creation. Time in the wilderness can give us a vision of what’s most important in life and provide space and time to listen for God’s voice.

It can also be terrifying. I remember one night where we were camping. There was a full moon and a herd of horses grazing all around us in the mountain pass. Every so often throughout the night, they would gallop to a new grazing place and their huge shadows would cross through our tent and I would whisper, “They’re not going to trample us, right?” Horses don’t trample people, right?

At Holden, I also experienced another kind of wilderness—facing my own flaws and brokenness. The challenge of living in a close community and seeing myself completely mess things up with people… and then have to go on living right beside them. I experienced the loneliness of living in a remote place and deeply missing family and friends, another kind of wilderness. Together with many others, in this place apart, we wondered what God was preparing us to do next.

All of these are wilderness experiences possible during this season of Lent. Maybe you will experience the Spirit driving you to a new place. Maybe you will be tempted. Maybe you will experience wonder or fear. Maybe you’ll experience a loved one facing death. Maybe you’ll experience angels ministering to you. Maybe you’ll hear God’s voice in a new way. Maybe you’ll feel called to proclaim the good news. Maybe you’ll see that God’s kingdom is near.

Forty days and forty nights—it symbolizes a great transition—and maybe we’ll experience something like that—or maybe it will be a tiny awareness of how God’s Spirit is moving in and around us. The awareness of how we wander where Jesus has already led the way. The sense of how God’s kingdom continues to be near throughout these long, thirsty day s of Lent.

Whatever the result, one thing is certain. Living in the wilderness changes people and that’s why the Spirit drives us there—because the Spirit wants to change us… to melt us, mold us, fill us and use us—as God’s kingdom comes near.

Jesus is calling, “The time is now, the kingdom is near; repent, and believe in the good news.”
Don’t be afraid. Come on the wilderness journey… God knows what waits for us there—and we will certainly not leave the same.

Pastor Joy

transfiguration!

Open the eyes of my heart, Lord. I want to see you. To see you high and lifted up, shining in the light of your glory. Pour out your power and love while we sing holy, holy, holy…

I would not call this one of my favorite songs.

Maybe it’s because it seems so individualistic or because I trust earthy visions of Jesus, son of man, a bit more than visions of Jesus “high and lifted up”—but on the other hand, this song does seem to express Transfiguration—this dazzling scene that we cannot fully comprehend. It’s a musical prayer that we might be open to seeing Jesus more clearly, a prayer that we might be moved to sing with the cherubim:
Holy, holy, holy... so may this be our prayer.

Two weeks ago on the campus of the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago, we hosted a conference on the power of Film & Faith—how each has the ability to reinforce and make deeper the stories of the other… and as a part of preparing for that conference, I watched the film The Whale Rider again… Maybe you’ve seen it—a story from the Maori people in New Zealand and about moment when there was a crisis of leadership.

[for the full text of this sermon about Transfiguration...]

Blessings,
Pastor Joy