God’s Boundless Love… Unfolding

Luke 15: 1-10

Lost.

Maybe some of you have read or seen in movie form the story A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle. If you haven’t seen it, the story begins with a young girl, Meg, talking with her science-loving, brilliant, inventing Dad telling her about his latest invention but also about love. “Love is always there. Even if you don’t feel it, it’s always there for you.” It’s almost like he’s saying goodbye.

 

Then, the scene changes. It’s four years later and Meg is now a young teenager. Her father has been missing for 4 years. Whatever he was on the brink of discovering in his research on time and space travel, he has been gone and they’ve heard nothing for 4 years.

 

But Meg’s mother reminds her daily of her father’s lesson, unfolding a paper octahedron that, when unfolded, shows a heart in its middle.

“This is our love,” her mom reminds her.

“It's...it's not gone. It's just...it's just getting enfolded.”

 

We know what it’s like to feel lost. Whether we’ve been lost or we’re worrying about our loved ones, we know that feeling and how hard it is to remember in the tough times, love is never lost.

 

We know what it’s like to feel lost. We’ve been like that sheep wandering off the edges.

Or we’ve been part of the 99, anxiously wondering where in the world the Good Shepherd has gone and when this One who has taken care of us so well will be back.

 

We know what it’s like to be lost.

But maybe what is much harder to grasp, to remember deep in our bodies, is how it feels to be found. 

 

Thanks to the gift of time granted by this congregation and the Lilly grant that funded a whole summer of renewal… I was able to take a Sabbatical this summer. The grant we received funded  Christ’s needs—Sabbatical pastor, guest preachers and activities of the summer--and it funded learning opportunities, rest and travels for me and my family. I was able to take two weaving classes this summer and had moments of awakening to the importance of open space and gaps as my classmates and I created fabric that didn’t exist before we started working on it.

 

I worked my way through an artist’s training book called The Artist’s Way: A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity by Julia Cameron. This book has been on my shelf for 20+ years but honestly, I hadn’t even thought of it until I was doing a 6-week online cohort in preparation for Sabbatical. That guidebook was mentioned and I thought, “Huh, I have that book. It’s a 12-week process. I have 13 weeks… I could do that.” And it helped me explore the very real factors around and inside me that block and stifle my ability to listen to God, the Creator, and to create as a faithful response to who God has made and continues to call me to be.

 

During Sabbatical, I made things. I wrote, painted, wove, took photos. I watched for God. I cleaned and swept and purged and packed. I practiced flow. Finally, I could write again.

 

I searched and searched for what has been lost… and to see what could be found.

 

In her moving book One Coin Found: How God’s Love Stretches to the Margins, a long meditation on this very gospel that we’ve read this morning, Emmy Kegler writes:

 

Whenever we are pushed to the edges, our voices silenced, or our stories dismissed, God goes out after us--seeking us until we are found again. And God is seeking out those whose voices we too quickly silence and dismiss, too. Because God's story is a story of welcome and acceptance for everyone--no exceptions.

Kegler shows us that even when we feel like lost and dusty coins--rusted from others' indifference, misspent and misused--God picks up a broom and sweeps every corner of creation to find us.

 

God is creative, persistent. She is a Shepherd, yes, but she is also a broom-bearing God. She sweeps every corner of creation to find us.

 

Where have you been found this summer? Can you think of a moment where love was at the very center of you, the very center of whatever was unfolding?

We’ve done some milestones today in worship already… but we will have more time at the close of worship for you to share more moments when you have known, when you have noticed that you are deeply loved, that you are found, that God who sweeps every corner of creation to find you has done exactly that.

 

And in a spirit of gratitude for God’s boundless goodness, God’s never-ending love, let us pray.

 

O Great Creator, we are gathered together in your name that we may be of greater service to you and to [others]. We offer ourselves to you as instruments. We open ourselves to your creativity in our lives. We surrender to you our old ideas. We welcome your new and more expansive ideas. We trust that you will lead us. We trust that it is safe to follow you. We know you created us and that creativity is your nature and our own. We ask you to unfold our lives according to your plan, not our low self-worth. Help us to believe that it is not too late and that we are not too small or too flawed to be healed--by you and through each other--and made whole. Help us to love one another, to nurture each other's unfolding, to encourage each other's growth, and understand each other's fears. Help us to know that we are not alone, that we are loved and lovable. Help us to create as an act of worship to you.
                                                                                    -- An Artist’s Prayer by Julia Cameron

An Amazing Detour

Acts 16: 9-15 and John 14: 23-29

During the night, Paul had a vision. A man of Macedonia was pleading--“Come over to Macedonia and help us.” They don’t know exactly where they’re going. They don’t know exactly why. They wander around looking for a river, a place of prayer. They are looking for a man in need. They find spiritual, active women. They spoke together and listened deeply, back and forth. This powerhouse of a woman, Lydia, listened eagerly. She was not only the spiritual leader in this community but also a successful business owner.

God opened her heart, and she not only asked for baptism for herself but for her whole household. And she prevailed on the guests to come and stay with her, which they did, of course. It was an amazing detour.

Today, we can easily imagine the context of Paul’s dream—people calling out, “Come help us.” 

The world is full of so many troubles.

 

It’s another tough week—nationally, globally and right here. Last weekend, “Americans heard news of yet another mass shooting—this one in Buffalo, New York, where ten people died and several more were injured. But this one is set apart from the many mass shootings that happen yearly in the U.S.... Rather than indiscriminately shooting, the 18-year-old suspect targeted a supermarket in a predominantly Black neighborhood. He allegedly wrote a White supremacist manifesto online, traveled about 200 miles to the store, and livestreamed the attack, according to authorities.”[1] 

Meanwhile, Mariupol, Ukraine is now in Russian hands, after more than two months of bitter fighting and constant Russian shelling that destroyed massive swaths of the city and killed thousands of civilians, according to local officials. Ukraine formally declared an end to its combat mission in Mariupol late Monday.[2]

And on Monday, Carol learned that her son Eric died. Carol had to tell Craig that his brother had died. They responded as all of us did as we each heard the news—“What?! I can’t believe it!” And in the face of the death of this dear son, brother, co-worker and friend, we are speechless.

 

Jesus invites us in the face of so many troubles… “Do not let your hearts be troubled.”

Who among us doesn’t struggle with a troubled heart, though? 

If we are awake, if we are human, if we are listening to the world’s pain at all, how can we be trouble-free?

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.” And Jesus talks about going away, and another Advocate coming, and things that will happen that will challenge our belief in God’s absolute love, and moments that will help us remember.

 

It is not a straight path. One of my relatives wrote an understandably proud note about her new high school graduate—“You earned this night.” But if we think about it, we know better… we do not earn life’s joys any more than we earn life’s sorrows. None of us succeeds alone, none of us grieves alone. Actually, we are all so very connected. We are connected to those who live in fear of gun violence and white supremacy. We are connected to those who wonder if their loved ones are alive. We are connected to those who grieve the shocking loss of their loved ones.

And in all this fear, grief and trauma, we are connected also to the source of love and peace.
In belly laughs and flowing tears with those we trust, we forge connection to one another and God.

 

On Thursday, the members of the CLC Women showed up for Carol.

Even more than usual, they showed tender kindness to one another.

They didn’t say any of those quick phrases that people say that can be so hurtful and just plain wrong at the time of death—like: “Well, God just needed another angel.” 

No, they sat with Carol and asked for the story, and then they asked Carol how they could direct a gift in Eric’s honor and they decided to give $500 to Shobi’s Table.

 

We do not believe that God took Eric away… but we do believe that God was and is present with Eric, in life and in death and in life beyond death. God is lovingly present and active in all places where help is needed. God is working to mend and heal and save—in all these people and places—and God invites us to participate, even if we may not be sure exactly how or where we’re going or who we’re looking for or what we’re looking for…

 

In this month’s Gather Bible study with the CLC Women, one of the stories we read was about another amazing detour. In this one, a family took their cat, named Ketchup, on vacation and accidentally left him behind. After going back to get the cat, they decided to drive a different route home. They found a beach home that they decided to purchase, a place they called “Ketchup’s Find” after that. Finding that place was random, yet seemed like no accident to them… we can’t always see meaning in each part of the path at the time, yet we make meaning. As we look back over the detours of life, the tragedies and triumphs, the mountains and valleys, we may find that God was right there, providing the help and direction and vision we needed. We pray that we might see the way, hear the promptings, take the next steps.

 

Life is not a straight path. Two amazing teachers whose book I read last June and whose voices I got to hear again this week—thanks be to God—are Amelia and Emily Nagoski.[3] One of the tidbits they shared was about how powerfully healing it is to share rhythmic movement with other people for a shared purpose. Maybe its dancing or maybe its marching. Maybe its participating in worship or in a concert. It’s scientifically verified that this is one of the ways we move through stress—whether intense or low level—to a place of healing, comfort, peace.

 

Rhythmic movement with other people for a shared purpose… I think this is one more reason why I love the spirituals so much—for how they help us do this.

Hold on just a little while longer, hold on just a little while longer, hold on just a little while longer, everything’s gonna be alright, everything’s gonna be alright

 

This week was also a blood moon. In different times and cultures, humans have made up all kinds of meaning about the earth’s shadow cast across the moon: sign of death, sign of dealing with one’s difficult emotions, beautiful, terrifying. But how about this possible meaning: a time for special prayers.

When we honor both the brilliance and the shadows that make up this reality of our human existence, we open ourselves to a deeper and more profound place of relating to life and to the beings that surround us… By honoring both the light and the dark… and the modes of action and of rest, we allow in the truth of the world.[4]

As I depart for Sabbatical, my prayer is that we can honor both modes of action and rest. My prayer is that we can embrace this amazing detour… a time when we can know God is with us, helping us, even while we’re apart. We’ll find unexpected people, delight and experiences along the way. We can know for sure that God is with us as we care for another in life’s toughest times, and we’ll learn not only to be care givers but to receive care. Christ is with us and never fails. Here are the words again to hold onto, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.” It’s defiant hope… Everything’s gonna be alright, everything’s gonna be alright.

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[1] Article by Shirin Sinnar, Q&A with Sharon Driscoll, link: https://law.stanford.edu/2022/05/16/stanfords-shirin-sinnar-on-the-buffalo-shooting-hate-crimes-and-domestic-terrorism/

[2] https://www.npr.org/2022/05/18/1099885151/mariupol-falls-ukraine-russia-what-it-means

[3] https://www.burnoutbook.net

[4] Kalia Kelmenson, https://www.spiritualityhealth.com/spiritual-meaning-of-the-blood-moon

 

Love One Another

I have almost no associations with the word “glory,” said repeatedly in these first words of John. The only one, really, is the song from the movie Selma… sung by John Legend and Common               One day…. When the glory comes. It’ll be ours, it’ll be ours.

When I sing it, I hear their voices & then the voices of the choir joining… Glory… and I get goose bumps. I see those protesters moving as one body through the streets, showing together that the arc of the universe is long, but it bends toward justice.

There will be “glory”—God is and will be present. God will take their hands and lift them up.

 

That’s my connection… but it turns out that “glory” appears in the Bible multiple times.

It’s present in the first parts of creation. It’s present as the angels sing at Jesus’ birth.

And it’s present here, in these words of Jesus that follow his most important action—

Which most important action? – washing feet – that is what Jesus is doing as he says:

I give you a new commandment, that you love one another.
As I have loved you, love one another.

 

The commandment to love was not new. It was at least as old as Leviticus… Love your neighbor as yourself. Self love is important.

But the humble love that Jesus expresses and lives out is what is new. 

And it’s new, over and over again, as each of us takes up the invitation to love like that.

Maybe you’ve seen the photos on Instagram -  The Foot Washing Series[1]… they are art depictions of Jesus washing the feet of everyone… our heroes, our enemies, little children, elders… at the home site it says, “Be prepared for Jesus to flip the tables of your heart. It’s not about who’s on the seat, it’s about Who’s washing the feet.”

By this everyone will know that you are with Christ, if you love one another.

 

Grads, the work of high school is nearly done… the end is so close, you can almost taste it.

So what does Jesus have to say to you and to us, as you go out into the world in new ways?

Well, you know it… in the little video we made together, you said it.

You said that it’s important to try when it counts, to do your best and be involved in things… 

But not to be so worried about accomplishments that you miss the present, that you miss community, that you miss being with each other.

 

You embody this in so many ways, in ways I’ve seen and in ways I’ve heard about… and in ways that you know about but we don’t yet… and we are so glad to celebrate you five and all that you have already shown us about how to love like Jesus does.

We’re so glad to celebrate all that you already are… and we’re filled with hope about the adventures that will be coming next for you.

 

Here’s the things about adventures and next steps. There are a lot of emotions.

That’s true in kindergarten and the first trip to camp and the first day of high school and it’s true now… there’s so much excitement and also fear, wondering….

 

And so as you go off into a hopeful future, with lots of unknowns, we have some hopes for you.

Spirituality is all around us… but we want you to find a community that has seen some things, a community that will notice whether you’re there or not, a community that will bring you meals if you are sick or face set-backs, a community that will hear your milestones and be with you when one of your beloved ones dies.

 

We have been your faith community… whether you’ve been here most Sundays or not… and for those who are moving far, this is the kind of community we hope you’ll find where you’ll be for the next years… a community that will love you in a humble, foot washing way.

A community who will love you no matter what.

 

When parents say goodbye to their own kids at college or when they move into their working lives, they might say this, “You have everything you need… and if you need anything, you call me.”

And that’s the kind of message we want to convey to you today—WOW, we think you are amazing and ready for these next steps… and we are here for you.

 

In the wonderful book Braiding Sweetgrass, in a chapter[2] about saying goodbye to her own graduating daughter, Robin Wall Kimmerer says this, “I had known it would happen from the first time I held her – from that moment on, all her growing would be away from me. It is the fundamental unfairness of parenthood that if we do our jobs well, the deepest bond we are given will walk out the door with a wave over the shoulder.” 

 

In this chapter, she shares this great scene where after they have moved her in and said their goodbyes, Robin’s daughter calls out with her projecting voice, across the parking lot… “Mom, if you break down in uncontrollable sobs on the highway, please pull over!”

Mom made it home to her empty house, though, to a pile of unexpected gifts at her door from her close cousin … “Take comfort” the note said. She left eighteen notes and presents, one for every year of her mothering (her daughter).. A compass: “To find your new path.” A packet of smoked salmon: “Because they always come home.” Pens: “Celebrate having time to write.” 

And then Robin wrote this: We are showered every day with gifts, but they are not meant for us to keep. Their life is in their movement, the inhale and the exhale of our shared breath. Our work and our joy is to pass along the gifts and to trust that what we put out into the universe will always come back.”

In a few minutes, Graduates, we will bless and send you—true gifts, truly loved—and you will soon go into the working world, to the University of MN, to Luther College, to New York, to California. Each and every step, we want you to know that God is with you, Love is with you, we hope you find real community along the way… and one day… Glory… we’ll get to hear from you again about the ways you are living and moving and loving, passing along the gifts that will always come back. It’s not new… to love one another. And at the same time, it’s all new.

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[1] https://saltandgoldstore.com/collections/the-footwashing-series

[2] From the chapter, The Consolation of Water Lilies, pages 98-104, Braiding Sweetgrass, Robin Wall Kimmerer

Glory!

                                                                                                 

Mark 9: 2-9 

At the end of the movie Selma, John Legend and Common sing Glory-

One day, when the glory comes, it’ll be ours… it’ll be ours…

 

And Jan Richardson writes this blessing:

 

That when glory comes,

we will open our eyes

to see it.

 

That when glory shows up,

We will let ourselves be overcome

Not by fear but by the love it bears.

 

That when glory shines,

We will bring it back with us 

All the way, all the way, all the way down. - Jan Richardson, Circle of Grace

 

Here is where my mind and heart went first, thinking about this story this week, this season, this last Sunday of Epiphany in this time when we’ve been hoping that our theme this season might really happen… that we might be Created Anew, in spite of Covid, in spite of deep Minnesota cold, that somehow God’s light would shine in and among us… even by video, even by Zoom.

My thoughts went first to me going up mountains. I feel lucky to have climbed some mountains… in the Cascades of Washington state, in Colorado & New Mexico, Mount Snowden in Wales, Mount Sinai… even looking out from a peak that looks over Galilee.

Here’s what I know about myself… I love the idea of mountains, of thin places, of a bigger picture… but in reality, I don’t always do so well in the midst of a mountaintop experience.
For one thing, I complain… a lot. Please don’t ask Ben about it because he’ll be too nice to throw me under the bus… but Ben knows that I am filled with a lot of negative energy on the way up. “Why in the world did we think this would be a good idea?!”... has definitely come out of my mouth when I’m sweating in the face of an ascent.

In our shared year at Holden Village, Ben & I hiked to a mountain pass that grew more and more snowy as we hiked up with our small group, planning to go over the pass into Stehekin to a pilgrimage walk the whole next day - Palm/Passion Sunday morning - along Lake Chelan. It was March so we were ready for a beautiful spring walk through the glacier lilies and & it was… until we got a little higher where the snow made climbing slippery. I couldn’t believe one of our hiking companions was wearing tennis shoes instead of hiking boots. None of us had ice picks or any safety gear. We got to the peak of the pass and looked over and I just freaked out. Even the peanut butter tofu our friend offered did not help. There were tears, hidden from the group and an angry whisper, “You are going to have to send a helicopter to come and get me up here because I am NOT going down.” Immovable as I was, Ben shrugged & started down without me until about 15 feet down, he slipped, fell, got caught on a broken tree branch and cut his leg… I jumped up to run down and rescue him… and we were in the clear for a rocky but safe descent. We reached Stehekin unharmed and the ranger greeted us with these words, “Glad you made it down safely. You’re the first ones this season. Yesterday, a hiker had to be airlifted after falling.” I was right! It was treacherous. Was I grateful? Relieved? Yes… and collapsed in my tent the rest of the evening.

I look back on that hike as a true mountain top experience… and also, reality is that sometimes mountaintop experiences are terrifying before they are glorious.

 

I imagine that’s how it must have felt for Peter, James and John. They made it up on this hike… why are we headed here, Jesus? And suddenly, it’s clear that something totally out of this world is happening. Jesus is bright light. Ancient prophets, Moses and Elijah, are speaking their wisdom. Normally through life, on the good days, we get glimpses of God’s presence. We get little epiphanies of who Jesus is. We get just a breath, a taste, a touch of the Holy Spirit. But here on the mountaintop, the disciples get full-on transparency. Instead of just glimpses, they are in the presence of full-on glory… and in light of that, they are never the same again. If there was any doubt before (or later), this showed them who Jesus is and they would need it in the days to come.

 

In Baptism, God spoke to Jesus, “You are my beloved, with you I am well pleased.” And now that message spreads to Peter, James and John… and to us, “This is my Beloved, listen to him.”

 

Last week, we got to take part in Malachi’s baptism and in the many promises we made to God and one another was this one, “We welcome you into the body of Christ and into the mission we share… giving thanks and praise to God and bearing God’s creative and redeeming word to all the world.” 

It’s so good to be a part of this gift – to be part of a beloved community – to be in relationship with the Beloved One – in fact to called part of this beloved body – that it’s hard to put into words. And that’s our challenge… we can’t always put God-encounters into words.

But we can imagine that it changed them and it changes us forever. 

 

Even just glimpses of Christ’s transforming love make me each of you more. Even just glimpses of God’s deep love for us can help us extend self-compassion, mercy, love to ourselves.

And we can understand why Peter wanted to build a little something to mark the moment.
Just let’s build something right here to remember this glimpse of possibilities that I hadn’t even thought of yet…

And then, there were clouds and then only Jesus.

 

It reminds me of this song – I know Garmai loves this song and others, too… 

Give me Jesus, give me Jesus, you may have all the rest, give me Jesus.

 

And then with Jesus, they came down the mountain.

And they kept things quiet until the time was right… because they were headed toward they didn’t know quite what in Jerusalem, but Jesus had already mentioned dying once… 

So, they headed down with the stories inside them, waiting until the time was right and they could share fully, with full transparency, all that love, all that glory.

 

So I close with another blessing from Jan Richardson to take with you on your way – 

DAZZLING, Circle of Grace by Jan Richardson

God Created. Now what?

Baptism of Jesus                                                                               

 

Hold on… just a little while longer…

Everything’s gonna be alright, everything’s gonna be alright.

 

What a week. It’s the kind of week where Resmaa Menakem’s book, My Grandmother’s Hands comes especially to mind… that deep book that some of us read this summer and fall… with its concrete practices for addressing racialized trauma and mending our hearts and bodies… 

 

Yes, this is a week when in addition to watching events unfold (again), we did things we didn’t expect– did I ever think I’d be watching the live broadcast of the Joint Session of Congress counting votes in the middle of the night?
No, I did not.

One of my friends wrote – “After the 7 day trial of 2021, I’d like to return it for a full refund.”

In addition to trying to keep up with the trauma-filled news of this week, we needed and need now to practice in Resmaa Menakem’s words, “Settle our bodies, notice our emotions, accept discomfort, stay present, safely discharge negative energy… and add softness to our lives.” 

We need to breathe. Practice silent meditation. Do a form of physical exercise that is pleasurable. Listen to music with female vocalists (he says we don’t know yet why this particularly works to soothe human bodies but it does…). Hold a pet if you have one. Be in nature… and the list goes on.

 

So, we’re going practice one right now together… as we work to mend, heal the trauma that is within us and that is all around us.

We’re going to hum and we’re going to rock. There is no right way or wrong way. Just let your body make noise and move in whatever way you can.

 

In both the story of creation from Genesis and the glimpse of new creation in Mark, God’s Spirit is present… hovering over the water, tearing open the skies and appearing to land on Jesus like a dove.

Even when we are in chaos, when we are in wilderness, God is present. God is there as light beams and God was there when darkness covered the face of the deep. There is nowhere where God is not, and when humans avoid God because we are sick with oppression and injustice, when we build up walls and fences and cages, out there or in here, that’s when God comes tearing the heavens apart with so much creative power to restore relationships. 

 

In the water stories that we remember as we give thanks for the gift of Baptism, we hear the story of Noah – where God hangs God’s war bow up in the skies, refusing to use it ever again.

We hear story after story of situations where God powerfully delivers, but we also notice that there are times in life where God appears to withdraw and make space for creation to unfold.

God is present but God seems to limit god-self for the sake of creation, for the sake of the one God loves.

 

That is so different from models of leadership present from Pharoah to Herod to now, where despicable leaders instead grab and will not let go of any kind of power they can grasp… and we are affected and infected by a culture struggling to name those behaviors as sin. We are struggling as a whole country to discern truth in a sea of lies, to know who we are outside of a structure of racism and oppression than goes back in our history for generations.

 

So, today, we reflect not only on baptism’s gifts but on its tasks.

 

When Jesus was baptized, according to Mark, this earliest written account, a voice from heaven said, “You are my Son, Beloved, with you I am well pleased.” In that moment, if not before, Jesus knew his deepest identity. His maleness was not most important, his cultural and ethnic heritage was not most important, his class and family affiliations were not most important… relationship with God is the center of Jesus’ identity.

 

We realize, when we baptize, that there are so many things that draw us away from this central relationship. In baptism, we say “NO” to the things that draw us away from God – and they are powerful things. We say “NO” to them so that we can say “Yes!” to life in God, so that we can remember God loved us before we were even capable of responding… and yet, we turn toward God like a baby turns toward a loving parent – for nourishment, for nurture, for security, for bonding.

 

Then, as we grow in mind, body & spirit, as we grow holistically, we begin to be able to respond to God with more of ourselves… we begin to have the capacity to live as God’s dreams we would live together. We need guidance, so we promise to be with God’s people and listen to God’s word. We need physical, tangible things to ground us so we promise to receive God’s meal and learn prayers and teachings that we can come back to again and again, including  when life is chaos, when we are in a wilderness of doubt. We promise that our life’s work will be to care for others and work for a world filled with justice and peace, not just for me & my allies, but for all.

 

The kind of week we have had, where now 4,000 people died of Covid in a single day… where an armed mob, encouraged by a deluded leader, took over the Capitol and caused trauma for our nation’s public servants (some reached out to their families by phone to say “goodbye,” they were so terrified)… but for the mob, they thought their destruction was funny, hilarious, worth a selfie… 

When our president calls these people in their violent actions, “really special” and tells him he loves them,  we just want the heavens to be torn open and for God to set all things right.

 

But this is when we must remember the identity of the baptized.

No, we are not the most powerful in the land, capable of over-turning democracy… or single-handedly righting what has been going wrong for so long.

No, we are not called to go out and burn it all down.

No, we are not able, knowing what we know now, what has been unfolding for years and years, to say that we have no part to play in the healing and reparations, the relationship-building, the moral action required - refusing to lie, refusing to make others enemies.

 

We look around and we see wilderness, only its not darkness covering the face of the deep… its whiteness, frozen, cold, not a person in sight. We’re lonely, scared, isolated in this season… and God comes among us and invites us to change our view, “Look, you are surrounded by water.” Yes, it’s cold and frozen… but here is the water of life that you will need, just in a different form.
Amma Theodora (her name means mother, gift of God) wrote, “Just as the trees if they have not stood before the winter’s storms cannot bear fruit, so it is with us; this present age is a storm and it is only through these many trials and temptations that we can obtain an inheritance in the kingdom of heaven.” Or put just a little differently, these storms, this frozen time, is part of the whole creation that leads to spring, to growth, to fruit.

 

In baptism, the Holy Spirit entered Jesus, and here is an amazing thing – in baptism, in water & word, God’s Holy Spirit enters us. God breathes into us, God’s gift of water flows into & through us.

Listen to this, from the words of confession & forgiveness that we’ll speak & hear again in just a few minutes:

In the wake of God’s forgiveness, we are called to be the beloved community living out Christ’s justice and the Spirit’s reconciling peace.

 

Baptism is gift and calls us to new living – hear these words we’ll sing together:

     Living water, never ending,

quench the thirst and flood the soul.

Wellspring, source of life eternal,

drench our dryness, make us whole. 

In Celebration: Ray Miller

Psalm 46, Romans 8 & John 14: 1-7, 25-27

 “Be still and know that I am God.” A beloved grandchild wrote this scripture on a rock and placed it in Ray’s urn. We know that in some ways, Ray was the opposite of still – we knew him as an Energizer Bunny! He just kept going – living life with vigor and energy for more than 100 years. So it is not surprising that this is a day that we did not anticipate. Although Ray had entered hospice this fall, his journey from relatively good health to death felt fast…

On December 19, when I was prepared to offer a Commendation (prayers of peace for those who are dying) because he had stopped eating, he actually received Communion the assistance of a hospice nurse… we spoke and prayed together and I think that he thought the technology that brought us together was as wondrous as we did. We were looking forward to many more visits in that new way. But on Christmas Eve, we could see that the end of this life was coming to a close as we sang “O Come All Ye Faithful” and “Silent Night” in our Zoom worship, and on Christmas morning, he peacefully died.

 

Today, we are grateful and celebrate Ray’s life, and we are grateful that his suffering is over; but also, it is difficult to say goodbye.

In John, Jesus speaks to disciples who, put simply, can’t imagine their life without him.

Jesus is talking about his upcoming death and they don’t want to hear it. They don’t want to face losing him, and Jesus reassures them… Don’t be afraid. I am going to die, but death does not have the final word. I’m going ahead of you so you can be reassured that when you come this way, entering the mystery of life after death, you’ll know I’m there, with a place for you. 

And what’s more, as Jesus faces his own death, he promises a gift for those who cannot imagine life without him—the presence of the Holy Spirit—who blows where it will, who teaches, who reminds them of what they know, and fills them with peace. Not the temporary, unsatisfying peace that doesn’t last, but deep peace and love that takes our pain, fear and despair away. 

 

Doesn’t that sound like what happened to Ray?

When he lost Fran, the love of his life, he experienced deep grief, and then came new parts of life that he never could have imagined. 

Who would have thought that he would experience 15 years of car racing with Dick and win a trophy at age 87?! He had friends because of racing that were much, much younger than him, and Ray told me many times how this experience of doing this with his son meant so much to him. 

When he left his long-time home at age 99, we gathered around him for what I call a “reverse house blessing,” sharing the memories of love that you hold in this space and blessing the space to receive another family. Somehow, it makes the grief of saying goodbye to a cherished home more bearable… and I remember, we were a little worried about how that would be for Ray, to sit in his cherished home, empty and ready for sale… but he sat in his chair, like a king, sharing stories, sharing some of  his favorite memories in that home, sharing words about his love for all of you who shared special times that home with him over the years.

And, he was grateful to be a New Perspectives when he arrived there. Well, he wasn’t grateful for everything, let’s be honest. There was too much chicken, not enough steak.
But… he treasured the art from Lynn that he looked at in his room each day. He enjoyed the companionship of new friends that he got to share meals and stories with each day… at least until Covid made life for all of us and especially those in spaces like his, more isolated than ever. These have been hard months, harder than ever… and so it is with some thankfulness and joy that we know that Ray is released from the pain and suffering of this life, and rests in God’s loving embrace this Christmas season.

 

We will remember the ways that Ray wished for love and forgiveness… Ray told me, again and again, how much he loved and cared for each one of you. I think he was aware that he had sometimes been hard on his children… when I brought him Communion, he always added words of his own, asking God to forgive him for all his sins.

Now, he would ask that of you – that you forgive him for any ways that he hurt you throughout his long, long life – and that any past hurts or hard times be transformed by the love he has for you now. Ray would say to each of you, “I love you” and “thanks for the memories.” 

We grieve the loss of this incredible man, but we also have received so much from him that can never be taken away. That is the kind of love that lasts and can live on in and through you, generation to generation.

Ray loved to feast, loved to race, loved to dance, love to host a party… and that is how he would want us to move forward… with a spirit of celebrating all that has been good, all that has been gift, that our tears might turn into tears of joy, that our mourning might become singing. Ray is hoping that we would tell stories, laugh together and embody love.

 

Jesus promises, “‘I have said these things to you while I am still with you. ²⁶But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you. ²⁷Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”

 

In Romans, Paul reminds us that nothing in heaven or on earth can separate us from the deep and wide love of God. In this time, in these days of grief mixed with Christmas days of Emmanuel, God with us, once again, may the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ bring love and peace, and may the Holy Spirit bring you comfort and joy.

Come in Joy

 

Last Sunday, our children did the preaching. They asked, “Who is Coming to our House?” (using the words of the beautiful picture book by Joseph Slate and Ashley Wolff). Who is coming to our house? In some ways, this year, we may want to answer… no one. No one is coming to our house. We can’t have guests. We cannot gather inside a warm, beautiful, dimly-lit sanctuary and feel the vibrations of one another’s singing and the passing of light from one to another. But in spite of that, someone is coming. Jesus comes whether we are ready or not. Jesus comes to meet you, each one, right where you are – in grief, in loneliness, in contentment, in calm – whatever your feelings, Jesus sits beside you… as the children said on Sunday, adapted from another beautiful children’s book (A Child is Born by Floyd Cooper)

Come, wise ones, to worship right there in your home

God is here, among us, to keep safe and warm.

Come, little ones, O look and see

God smiles up at you from dear Mary’s knee.

God is with us with deepest love to heal what is broken, to remove all oppression, to fill what is empty. God is with us bringing unexpected gifts – both the gifts that come in grocery bags and gift-wrapped boxes and the gifts that are not things. God is with us – even this year, especially this year – God draws near. Let’s listen to some of our children tell us once again:

A Child is Born, adapted from Margaret Wise Brown

So come, you who are shepherds, O follow the light.

And welcome Jesus this blessed night.

Come, wise ones, to worship right there in your home

God is here, among us, to keep safe and warm.

O come, wild birds      Descend, gentle dove

And angels from heaven to give Christ your love.

Come, little ones, O look and see

God smiles up at you from dear Mary’s knee.

Come in joy, come in peace, please come right away

Jesus is born to you this Christmas day.

 

Amen, amen, amen.

Where We Belong - Where the Wild Things Are

Isaiah 40: 1-11 & Mark 1:1-8

Last Sunday, Vicar Anne welcomed all to a new year… and today in Mark, we start at the very beginning. The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ. We listen to the ancient prophets calling from Isaiah and Malachi… here is the messenger, the forerunner, John the baptizer (who looks so much like Elijah), that previous wild voice of God in the wilderness. 

Do you remember Elijah? Elijah… didn’t exactly die after his many years of being God’s voice on earth but was carried up to heaven in a flaming chariot, so the people began to imagine that Elijah would return before the Messiah came. And here is John, another character in the wilderness, out on a vision quest, surviving on what the wilderness provides, coming back to speak God’s words to the community with clarity. Here is John to pave the way for the One who was coming soon.

 

Things are hard in the wilderness… there is isolation, frustration, loneliness…

We know something about that in this season of waiting when we’re all… waiting.
Waiting for a vaccine, waiting to see our loved ones, waiting to gather with others again.

This year, this Advent, we’re not able to meet God in our usual spaces – sanctuaries, volunteer roles, usual patterns of gathering and serving others. 

It’s a wilderness time when God’s presence is de-centralized, where God has spread out to all the places we are…

 

Things are hard in the wilderness, things also may become more clear.
Wilderness can be a revealing place.
Many ancient and diverse people went to the wilderness to learn their names, deepen identity, to gain spiritual grounding and insights.

 

Maybe some of you remember the children’s book by Maurice Sendak, Where the Wild Things Are. Max has gotten into all kinds of mischief and is finally sent to his room without any supper. His room becomes a forest and then he sails away in his own little boat to the place where the wild things are. They have yellow eyes and terrible teeth and claws, but actually, Max is able to tell them to be still. They say that Max is the king of the wild things and they have a wild rumpus. Then… Max begins to smell supper and looks just a little bit lonely and sad… and “wanted to be home where someone loved him best of all.” So he returns back to his room where his supper is waiting for him and it is still hot.

 

That is the picture that Isaiah creates for us today – a beautiful picture of coming home to the One who loves you best of all.

True… in this time, we’re not able to meet God in our usual spaces – 

Yet out here, where we are… God is present and this is the God who loves you best of all.

 

Advent is a season of great expectations… and maybe we’ve been trying to tamp down our expectations this year… 

But, we need great expectations when we’re wandering in the wilderness.

 

So here is John the baptizer, forerunner of Jesus, one of those amazing people who pave the way for others, saying “I am not the one you’re waiting for but I know who is.”
And this Jesus, who is Emmanuel—God with us—even in this unusual December, in this month we cannot predict, when we cannot rely on our usual plans and patterns… this Jesus is coming soon in ways we cannot expect.

 

How glorious God is… however good and loving we think God is… God is even more loving…

And in this month, God invites us to cultivate relationship.

 

Again and again and again, God invites us to turn around (not just in the sense of turning from bad stuff we’re involved in…)

But to turn around toward God is who constantly calling each one, everyone home.

This month, we’ll come back to this theme repeatedly - Where we belong – 

And this theme is about coming home to God, coming home to who we are… who God has truly made us to be, a daily turning, receiving God’s daily embrace.

 

Even when the whole world is moving or has moved on in a different direction, Jesus invites our turning to the God who is past, present and future…

 

In Advent, we wait for the second coming of Jesus…
but isn’t Christ always near, ready to be born within and among us?
God has met us in song and prayer, in candlelight and community, in family and gatherings, year after year.

So, we can expect the second or third or billioneth coming of Christ… among us…this year… even if the context is different.

This year, God will meet us in our homes.
God will meet us in each beginning, each thing that we do in a new way because we’ve never lived with these circumstances before… God will gather us like lambs, carry us in her bosom, be strong and tender, be faithfully present, reveal glory.

 

God’s coming is good news.

No need to tamp down expectations here in the wilderness because here, we’ll begin to smell God’s delicious cooking, wafting our way…  

after a little time in the wilderness where the wild things are, we might just realize that in God, we are finally home where we are loved best of all. 

 

 

 

 

Entrusted with Each Other

The gospel according to Matthew:

³¹ “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. ³² All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, ³³ and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left. ³⁴ Then the king will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; ³⁵ for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, ³⁶ I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.’ ³⁷ Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? ³⁸ And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? ³⁹ And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’ ⁴⁰ And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tellyou, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family,^[a] you did it to me.’ ⁴¹ Then he will say to those at his left hand, ‘You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; ⁴² for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, ⁴³ I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ ⁴⁴ Then they also will answer, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?’ ⁴⁵ Then he will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it tome.’ ⁴⁶ And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.”

The gospel of the Lord. Praise to you, O Christ.

 

Every year, as we come to this day named Christ the King, it’s significant to me to mention that this acknowledgement of Christ as King came in resistance to growing fascism in Europe. In 1925, between two world wars, came the invention of this Sunday… as one church year ends and a new one begins, that whatever powerful events are happening nationally or globally, Christ is the one who we acknowledge above all other powers. In Ephesians, we hear Paul write from prison that Jesus’ name is above every name that is named, not only in his own time but also into the future… and Jesus is the center… over all things for the church, which is his body, the fullness of the One who fills all in all. 

 

That is a powerful image… an image like the Thanksgiving image of the cornucopia… an over-abundance of fruits and vegetables flowing out from a horn of plenty. This is the abundance that a generous God has poured out and wants for all people.

However, we know that humans are not always good at extending that same abundance. In fact, in the U.S., our culture tends to be highly focused on the individual or one’s own family… in measures of the comparative values that countries hold through the world, in the priority of community vs. individual, the U.S. sits at 91% prioritizing the self or one’s own family.

 

Into that cultural context comes Jesus’ description of God’s vision for us—one in which we are all so connected as one body, so full of love and mercy, that we would feed others, make sure that all have clean water to drink, take care of those who are sick, clothe the naked, be present those in prison… and that we would treat whoever we are serving as if they are the most important one, as if they are Christ.

 

In the parable of the sheep and goats, neither those who do good nor those who miss opportunities to do good are really aware of it…

It’s a little bit like the radio show popular in Wisconsin - "Michael Feldman's Whad' Ya Know" 

Where Feldman asked at the beginning of every show - “What do ya know?” and the audience says, “Not much. You?”

 

What’s the meaning of this parable about sheep and goats? Well, there’s the obvious meaning… take care of others. But also probably this… that we don’t know as much as we think we do.

God alone knows the fullness of our acts of love and mercy and the opportunities we’ve missed.

 

There’s a story about this parable from a collection of sayings from the desert fathers, not attributed to any particular Abba…

A young monk is troubled by a demon who asks him, “Who are the sheep and who are the goats?” And the young monk answers, “I do not know who the sheep are and who the goats are. As for me, I am a goat.” And because of his humility, the demon left him.

 

But as well as teaching us about walking humbly, it’s also a vision for this time… a time when so many of us are imprisoned, lonely, hungry, poor, sick, thirsty…

We are praying for those who will free, feed, give, heal, share a cup of water…

We need Christ among us.

We have a longing for a world that better matches God’s own vision.

Each Wednesday, Joy McElroy in her role as Director of Cherish All Children sends out a Wednesday reflection and prayer related to the coming Sunday’s Bible readings and here are the words she shared this week, written by Kay Kinkel, a member of Cherish All Children’s Advisory Board

 

We are living in the anxious times of a worldwide pandemic. Many of us are feeling fear and despair about the spread of the disease, and possibly even feeling imprisoned with the restrictions recommended or imposed due to the re-escalation of the COVID-19 crisis. The thousands who bear the symptoms of the illness surely feel imprisoned by restricted breathing, intense pain, long hospitalizations and separation from their loved ones. When imprisoned, whether mentally, physically or both, it’s human nature to focus on one’s own anxiety and discomfort and lose sight of hope and the concerns of others. Yet even though Paul was in prison and his life was at risk when he wrote this letter to the church in Ephesus, his heart was full of hope and his prayers were for others… As our liturgical church year comes to a close this week and we acknowledge the Reign of Christ, we follow Paul’s example. Christ breaks open the prison of despair as Christ fills us with mercy, love and hope.[1]

 

All this month, we’ve been reflecting on how God has entrusted us with ministry, resources, and how God inspires us to be actively involved as servant leaders… as those who have all the oil they need (because God provides it)… as those whose impact God multiplies. And this week, God reminds us how we are entrusted to each other.

 

We have needs and we have resources… and Christ calls us family, one body, to care for one another with mercy and tenderness.

It’s so different than the inclination to provide for only ourselves and it even goes beyond charity. Anthony Tang writes, “To truly get food to the hungry, water to the thirsty, welcome to the stranger, clothing to the naked, health to the sick, and hope to the prisoner, what is universally called for is listening, respect, and relationship. This Scripture is a call to be in relationship with the least of these.” What if we’ve missed opportunities, screwed up our chances, failed at this in the past? “The good news is that over and over again God places people in our lives to give us new opportunities to learn how to connect across differences and be in relationship. Our God of second chances creates possibilities for us to be in relationship.”[2]

 

This is the vision of this Sunday also called the Reign of Christ, that we would show in our daily lives, unconsciously, the overflowing, abundant presence of a loving, mercy-filled God.

 

Dirk Lange, who teaches at Luther Seminary describes this as “joyful living in mercy without calculation. This joyful living takes believers to an unexpected place. It takes them to the cross; it takes them to the cross in human lives, to the cross in the life of family, community, society, nation, and world. It takes them to the place of God’s suffering in the world.”[3]

Richard Rohr describes it this way (paraphrase):

“The kingdom of God is within… it is not a place we’re going to but a place we’re coming from…” If that’s true, we carry God with us. God’s way is already here… not just a future destination but something we can experience now. At least a glimpse, at least a taste.

Goats, sheep, we can’t tell ourselves apart… we don’t know the fullness of who we are or what impact we’ve made and yet we can trust in the fullness of Christ who fills all in all.
We carry God within. Christ’s reign is already unfolding… moving us into relationship in ways we cannot expect but can welcome.

 

 

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[1] Kay Kinkel, Wednesday prayer from Cherish All Children, Nov 18, 2020.

[2] Anthony J. Tang, Lectionary Sermon Series, volume 2,  p. 76

[3] Dirk Lange, workingpreacher.com, Nov 22, 2020.