From Generation to Generation…there’s room for every story

Isaiah 2:1-5 and Matthew 1:1-17

This was the weekend that I put away decorations that I had up for the month of November—turkeys made of handprints, pumpkins crocheted by previous generations, a wooden toy my grandfather made with pecking chickens… and it’s the weekend when I began to up the decorations of Advent and Christmas. Peace doves and lanterns, the stable my Dad made by hand when his hands were skilled and able, tree-filled winter scenes and new colored lights and stockings made long ago. Taking down and putting up decorations this week and practicing Advent in the weeks to come is something that is not just an act of the present time. The activity connects me to generations of my ancestors, it’s something I’m passing to my children, and it’s where the writers of this Sanctified Art liturgy we’re sharing this season invite us to begin—by contemplating ancestors. 

This is why we read the genealogy of Jesus. It was not just a boring list of names, it was a remembering list—a list of so many stories woven together. Stories of trauma, triumph, hardships and beauty. Stories of outsiders who become central, stories of adoption being even more powerful than bloodlines, stories of complex relationships that all lead to Christ’s story. Some evil kings were left out of Matthew’s list and many of the matriarchs’ names were left out, but five of the matriarchs were named. 

 

In case you’re not familiar with these ancient ancestors of Jesus, I’ll briefly share a glimpse of the stories of Tamar, Rahab, Ruth and Bathsheba.

 

Tamar[1] suffers the death of her husbands and is blamed for their death by her father-in-law. She is in danger of losing all rights and resources but through being incredibly creative and assertive, she gives birth to twins with Judah who ends up saying about her, “ zadekah mimmeni-- often translated “she is more in the right than I” (Gen 38:26), a recognition not only of her innocence, but also of his unfairness to her.

 

In spite of being a foreign wife, she is incredibly loyal to Judah’s family, a quality that we see later in another part of this family tree—as Naomi and Ruth lose all the men in their family but Ruth, another foreigner, stays with Naomi and gives her descendants.

Tamar’s (and Ruth’s) traits of assertiveness in action, willingness to be unconventional, and deep loyalty to family are remembered from generation to generation. 

 

Circling back to Rahab, she is Canaanite as the Israelites are invading Canaan. Rahab receives and then hides spies from Israel from her own king. She bargains with the Israelites to save her family as they invade and prophetically says that they will win. She gives her loyalty to God’s people and makes them her new community.

 

Finally, the wife of Uriah, Bathsheba, is an Ammonite woman. Her husband fights loyally for King David but David has him killed in order to cover up his own selfish actions. Later, when Bathsheba is David’s wife, she has a key role in making their son, Solomon, king. 

 

These four foreign grandmothers are included as named ancestors along the way of the 42 generations—women who like Mary, the mother of Jesus, were vulnerable to unfair judgement but chose instead to be assertive, unconventional, persuasive, faithful. In the short-term, things looked bleak for them but in the long arch of the story, they are remembered for their perseverance, creativity and intelligence. They are honored. They are named.

 

Dr. Christine J. Hong writes, “Just as Christ’s genealogy reveals the relationships across time and space in his life, many of our names also tie us to the generations who come before us and those who will come after us. Matthew lists the names of Jesus’ forebears as a marker of hope finally realized. Even today, names are the seeded hope of one generation planted in another. They are the thread that connects our histories, stories and futures. We are the hopes of those who’ve come before, and we live in hope for those who will come after us.”

 

Rev. Lisle Gwynn Garrity, from the Sanctified Art creative team, writes that as they were developing this theme, she learned about The Seventh Generation Principle, “a philosophy of the Iroquois that emphasizes how seven generations after us will be affected by our current actions and decisions. This invites us to cultivate a sacred imagination for what will come, considering what will sustain and benefit the generations who come after us… our world is continually shaped and re-shaped by our collective actions.”

 

This is very similar to what is said by God within the giving of the 10 best ways, sometimes also known as the 10 commandments. When God is asking for people to live in a new way, God describes these consequences of actions—“that children suffer for the sin of the parents to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me, but that God shows love to a thousand generations of those who love me and keep my commandments.” (Deuteronomy 5) 

It doesn’t even compare—how influential loving God and neighbor can be—how much exponentially more God wants to love and bless than to punish.

 

“Like a tapestry woven throughout time, this story weaves us in…”

We are invited in… to practice love and faith, courage and community, not only for ourselves but for seven… or a thousand generations. 

 

The work of God is always unfolding—in and through real people. The work of God goes on in real people as complex as the 42 generations named from Abraham to David to Jesus, as the real people gathered here. Our lives, histories, actions, and stories are interconnected and woven together and still unfolding in Christ. In God’s holy imagination, there’s room for every story.

So as we begin this Advent, may we remember that we belong—to an ongoing story, to generations that have come before and will come after, to a love that will never end.

---

[1] For the full, complicated stories of Tamar, Rahab, Ruth and Bathsheba read here: https://jwa.org/encyclopedia/article/tamar-bible

Love for All the Saints (& Sinners)

Ephesians 1: 11-23 and Luke 6

 “Our sense of disconnection is only an illusion. Nothing human can stop the flow of divine love; we cannot undo the eternal pattern even by our worst sin.”

- Richard Rohr

This week, we moved through Halloween, All Saints’ Day and All Souls’ Day. This week, I have been thinking especially of those who have lost beloved ones since this time last year.

And I am thinking of those who have carried grief for a long time.

I am grateful that the calendar provides these days to do what so many of us do throughout the year—to remember beloved ones who are no longer here but who somehow are with us still.

Also, Pastor Collette Broady Grund writes insightfully about the complicated grief that comes with loving people who have hurt us. Given that people are both sinners and saints—all of us—and the ways that our memories carry that whole complicated mix. Pastor Collette writes:

It seems appropriate then that All Saints follows so closely on the heels of Reformation Day in my Lutheran tradition, for one of the hallmarks of Lutheranism is paradox. “Simul iustis et peccatur” Luther said, which is just Latin for Saint and Sinner at the same time. 

Those two realities are equally true, even though they seem opposite, and our traditional All Saints’ celebrations don’t make much space for the sinner parts of our memories. Neither do our funeral rituals, or the way we generally sanctify those who have died and only talk publicly about their good qualities. “You should never speak ill of the dead,” right?! 

Wrong. Not that we speak ill of the saints who have surrounded and supported us, but we simply speak honestly, reminding ourselves that no one of us is wholly a saint. Just as no one of us is wholly a sinner. We are all both, and God through Jesus makes space for that, even if [others do] not.

In these sacred days, as we grieve those who hurt us or made life difficult in ways that we continue to carry, may we know how God the healer continues today to do God’s transformational work. God continues to bless those who are poor, who are hungry, who weep & mourn, who experience hate.

God continues to transform our difficult times into ones filled with laughter and feasting, and we can know that what lies ahead are days of rejoicing together and leaping for joy.

 

In these days, as we grieve and celebrate our beloved dead, may we know how they endure with us, holding our hearts and encompassing us with a fierce and stubborn love that persists across time and distance. May that love help light our way in the life that is continuing to unfold for us.                                                                - Words from Jan Richardson

“We live in a world saturated with the love and intentionality of an ever-present God, and we are not alone.”                                             - Words adapted from Barbara Holmes, “God in Thin Places,” 

CONSPIRE 2021 (Albuquerque, NM: Center for Action and Contemplation, 2021),

ENDURING BLESSING
—Jan Richardson from her book, The Cure for Sorrow: A Book of Blessings for Times of Grief

 

What I really want to tell you

is to just lay this blessing

on your forehead,

on your heart;

let it rest

in the palm of your hand,

because there is hardly anything

this blessing could say,

any word it could offer

to fill the hollow.

Let this blessing

work its way

into you

with its lines

that hold nearly

unspeakable lament.

Let this blessing

settle into you

with its hope

more ancient

than knowing.

Hear how this blessing

has not come alone—

how it echoes with

the voices of those

who accompany you,

who attend you in every moment,

who continually whisper

this blessing to you.

Hear how they

do not cease

to walk with you,

even when the dark

is deepest.

Hear how they

encompass you always—

breathing this blessing to you,

bearing this blessing to you
still.

An Attitude of Gratitude

Reformation Sunday – Jeremiah 31 and Luke 19

Children’s Time – God is continually working to re-form us into people who know we belong to each other. 

“I will put my law (my torah) within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people… they shall all know me, from the least to the greatest… I will remember their sin no more.”

 

We walk around with stories inside us and we are constant storytellers.

The first books of the Bible, the Torah, are full of stories. Over and over, people try to communicate God’s deep love, God’s presence, God’s way through all kinds of diverse stories, but there are lots of other stories going on in our heads at the very same time.

I wonder what ours are?

 

What are the dominant stories running through our heads about these days?

This week, I was at a meeting where one of our members said several times that we are part of an aging congregation. It was said with that concerned tone of voice, and repeated several times as if I wasn’t taking in the gravity of the comment, and I couldn’t help but think two things at once.. and one thing later. I thought in response… well, I don’t know for sure but I can think of a significant number of young families and young adults who continue to participate regularly here and at least half of our Council leadership is in their 50s or younger. Do we see them? Do we allow them to be the leaders in our minds and in our midst?

And at the very same time, I thought of everyone who is 65+ in this congregation and I thought, yes, we’re aging… and aren’t we blessed to be aging because the alternative is being dead.

 

Maybe that sounds like a strong defensive reaction to this comment, but lately, I’m convinced that the stories we tell ourselves are incredibly powerful and they matter. Are we as we age going to dismiss the importance of the gifts that we bring? Are we going to fixate on what we have lost? I hope not. We live in a demographically aging city and state, so those who come to be a part of this ministry are likely to be retired/visibly aging. How do we keep centered in and give thanks for all the gifts that are present here even as we experience significant change and transition?

 

Reformation Sunday is a day to look backward in thanksgiving for how God has led and guided. It’s a day to notice God’s constant re-forming work on us in the present. It’s a day when we look to the future letting go of our fearful stories and remembering who goes with us into the future—who goes along with us each step into the unknown. And Jeremiah reassures us that we have a deep and good vision about where we’re headed. I don’t know how Jeremiah did this since he wrote these words from the depths of exile. He was left behind, but somehow he could express the truth that we’re headed into a future where we can expect to be in deeper relationship with a deeply loving God, where we’ll know God even better and no broken thinking or actions will be in the way of having a beautiful and good relationship. It will be joyful.

 

I did some reading on joy this week from the new encyclopedia on emotions by Brené Brown called Atlas of the Heart. Turns out, “joy” is the most vulnerable emotion and humans aren’t too comfortable generally with vulnerability and so we are quick to move into something called “Foreboding Joy.” Here’s what Brené writes about that… “If you’re afraid to lean into good news, wonderful moments, and joy—if you find yourself waiting for the other shoe to drop—you are not alone. It’s called “foreboding joy” and most of us experience it…

 

Foreboding joy is one of those practically universal experiences that everyone thinks of as something only they do… when we lose tolerance for vulnerability, joy becomes foreboding… We are terrified of being blindsided by pain, so we practice tragedy and trauma. But there’s a huge cost. 

When we push away joy, we squander the goodness that we need to build resilience, strength and courage.

The good news? In our research we found that everyone who showed a deep capacity for joy had one thing in common: They practiced gratitude. In the midst of joy, there’s often a quiver, a shudder of vulnerability. Rather than using that as a warning sign to practice imagining the worst-case scenario, the people who lean into joy use the quiver as a reminder to practice gratitude.                                    Brené Brown, Atlas of the Heart, p. 215

 

What a beautiful and powerful reminder.

 

And that leads me to Zacchaeus who wanted to get a look at Jesus. No one was making space for Zacchaeus to see. They had already labeled him as “not one of us” long ago. After all, he was a tax collector, becoming rich and you know what that means (--off the backs of the poor).

Who knows why he caught Jesus’ eye but maybe it was the sycamore or maybe it was something Jesus saw in him—after all, Zacchaeus’ name means “Pure in Heart.”

So Jesus says to Zacchaeus, “Come down because I’m going to be your guest.” And Zacchaeus was filled with joy to welcome Jesus.

 

Everyone else was not filled with joy.

They had long ago labeled Zacchaeus as a sinner and said as much to his face, and in front of all those critics, Zacchaeus said who he really was—pure in heart, generous to a fault. 

“If I have defrauded anyone of anything, I’ll pay back four times as much.”

You know, it makes you wonder if he had ever defrauded anyone of anything? But if he did, he was going to return it extravagantly.

 

And this moment of knowing that to Jesus, he belonged, was salvation for Zacchaeus. No longer considered an outcast, no longer lost, grounded in relationship with Jesus who saw him and centered him, Zacchaeus was saved.. and I would imagine, many others were saved too—through the sharing, through the joy of this story told for ages and ages.

 

There are two county commissioners who are also women of color in the state of Minnesota. Just two. They are Angela Conley and Irene Fernando who both serve districts of Hennepin County. They were two of the speakers in a five-person panel who spoke to rostered leaders of the Minneapolis and Saint Paul Area Synods this week, and here is what Commissioner Fernando said to us—this is a difficult, divisive political time but you, people of faith, you have such a bigger vision to draw on. You have deeper grounding as you go about your daily lives. You, of all people, who come together across differences for a deeper sense of the shared values we all bring, you have this gift and you need to use it. We are planted in a time and place, in daily lives, where we are with those who desperately need to see us living out whatever faith, hope and joy we can remember to share. We can absolutely practice gratitude, not only for our own sakes but for those of our neighbors. We have this capacity because it is written on our hearts, because Jesus visits our own homes and regularly reminds us, you belong. May it fill us with joy that no one can take away.

 

 

Bravely Moving Forward

Genesis 32: 22-31 and Luke 18: 1-8   

If you do not have a six-year-old in your household right now, you might not be familiar with the PBSKids program Xavier Riddle and the Secret Museum. In it, Xavier & friends time travel to meet real-life superheroes from history and the show caught my attention for a moment this week when Xavier & friends were visiting a child-version of Harriet Tubman. This was the part of the dialog that I overheard. The kids are meeting with Harriet as the sun sets and the moon rises--“But Harriet, if you are free, why did you come back??” 

Harriet answers--“Because there are so many people who are not free, so I come back to help them.”

“That sounds dangerous!”

“It is, but it’s the right thing to do. I’ve already saved my brothers. Today, it’s my parents.”

“Aren’t you scared?”
“Of course I am. Fear reminds us to look out for danger, but real courage is bravely moving forward, even when you’re scared.”[1]

Harriet Tubman, Helen Keller, Maria Tallchief, Ruby Bridges… these and so many more people have walked in the way of the widow from Jesus’ story. Put off, the widow kept coming. Asking for justice over and over again. She persisted.

And finally, this unjust judge gave her what she wanted, just to get rid of her.

 

But God is the opposite. God is listening. God quickly grants justice.

Even though we sometimes describe God as a “judge,” God’s righteousness and values are more like the widow’s way. God helps over and over. God restores, heals, brings goodness… and yet, Jesus asks, “And yet, when I come among you… will I find faith?”

 

It’s a weighty question.

When will justice come? Can we cling to faith even while we don’t yet see everything coming together into harmony? Are we willing to receive God’s gift of faith and nurture it and live immersed in it, even when things are scary and overwhelming?

 

Fear has its role—it “reminds us to look out for danger, but real courage is bravely moving forward, even when you’re scared.”

 

Today, you are all invited to participate in a conversation together that will help this congregation bravely move forward. Leaders cannot move a congregation without its buy-in and consent. The body of Christ cannot operate without all the parts of that body sharing from their gifts and perspectives. Today, your Council leaders are going to ask you to respond to questions in a really accessible way about our real feelings, values and ideas as a community. They are going to make it easy to participate, and we hope that many of you will participate. 

 

Many of you are aware that throughout this year, there have been many signs of vitality—Abundance Kitchen is buzzing with tenants on the weekdays, our church building received its historical designation, the Create Sabbatical Summer featured abundant care and hospitality at funerals, honored guest preachers, and hosted several meaningful family and neighbor events. More recently, Godly Play, Deep Dive Confirmation and Four12 Youth group began again; eight leaders attended an inspiring Vitality 101 training and we hosted another Marathon picnic—but at the very same time as all these good things are happening, the congregation is in a serious financial crisis. Yes, it’s true, the congregation has experienced deficits regularly for 70 years, so in one way, financial challenges are nothing new.

But in this third year of Covid, we are also clear that we are not immune from a whole cultural shift away from congregations. People have left and they are not coming back.

We are in a new time, and we who are in the room and joining in the livestream—we are the ones who remain to support this wonderful shared ministry.

 

There are at least two ways to address a financial crisis, and we are not always of one mind about the best way forward. One way to correct a financial crisis where expenses exceed income is to cut expenses. 

Your Council leaders are hearing questions like—do we need to move into a part-time pastor model of ministry, do we need to consider the sale of our building? They are very big questions that would fundamentally change ministry at Christ, and we cannot move forward without everyone giving their best sense of the values and vision that should guide the decisions that will need to be made over the next years.

 

Another obvious way to correct the problem is to increase income. This happens because we look around and say, “We are not going to allow this building that has such a unique and valuable location to crumble away.” “We value the ministry that we do and that our pastor leads and serves faithfully.” “We are grateful for our talented staff who bring in contributing partners, produce communications, provide beautiful music.” And we ask ourselves, am I giving my very best gift? Am I invested in the present and future of Christ on Capitol Hill? Am I giving the gift that is going to lift up and support all that is becoming new in this place? As you are able to give from what God has given you, your investment here will change your life.

Jesus so beautifully puts it this way, “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”

I’m putting all this information in front of you because we need you in on the conversation today. Also, you’ll be receiving an invitation in the coming weeks from Christ’s Stewardship team to consider your intended giving for 2023, but honestly, we ought not wait until 2023.
If we believe that Christ on Capitol Hill is still a vital ministry that God wants to exist, it’s time to be like Jacob, to look to God and wrestle a blessing that will invigorate our shared life. If we think there is a reason (or maybe many reasons) why Christ on Capitol Hill is here for good in this time and place, it’s time to pray for guidance to God, the persistent widow who keeps asking for justice for the most vulnerable ones that this ministry supports. I have faith that God is by no means done with this congregation. Even if we might feel lost in grief, even if we limp, God is ready to help. God is ready to open us to new possibilities. As we look back on the history of Christ Lutheran, we can see so much evidence of how our forebears persisted when things were tough, and even now, “real courage is bravely moving forward, even [if we’re]  scared.”[2]

May God grant us this kind of courage. May God give us persistent faith. And God help us as we gracefully let go of who we used to be… and invest in this time when God is making us new.

---

[1] https://pbskids.org/xavier/videos

[2] https://pbskids.org/xavier/videos

Love & Rage, Seeds & Singing

 O Lord, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not listen? Or cry to you "Violence!" and you will not save? Why do you make me see wrongdoing and look at trouble? Destruction and violence are before me; strife and contention arise. [Your Torah—your Word, your Way—is failing] and justice never prevails. The wicked surround the righteous— therefore judgment comes forth perverted.  – Hab 1: 2-4

We listen in this week as Habakkuk cries out to God in rage at the way people around him are suffering.
It’s love for people that drives his rage. God, how can you let people suffer like this? It’s like we’re just fish, swept up in a net and they’re eating us for lunch! Habakkuk is angry at all these violations of his values and even goes so far as to call God a failure. And then, God responds. God reassures that although everything is hard right now, and will even get harder, everything will end well. This is the vision. God’s reign and reality might not be arriving as quickly as people would like…. But watch for it, wait for it. The end will be good, worth waiting for… it's a vision to make very clear to everyone, even those running quickly by. Habakkuk decides to do just that—hold on to trust a little while longer.
The prophet sings this song at the end of this very short booklet.

 

When I heard this message^, 

I felt weak from fear,
    and my lips quivered.
My bones seemed to melt,
    and I stumbled around.
But I will patiently wait.
Someday those vicious enemies
    will be struck by disaster.

¹⁷ Fig trees may no longer bloom,
    or vineyards produce grapes;
olive trees may be fruitless,
    and harvest time a failure;
sheep pens may be empty,
    and cattle stalls vacant—
¹⁸ but I will still celebrate
because the Lord God
    is my Savior.
¹⁹ The Lord gives me strength.
He makes my feet as sure
    as those of a deer,
and he helps me stand
    on the mountains.

It’s a vision for all the weary ones, as we run step after step in this marathon of life, and this vision is to NOT GIVE UP in God’s never-ending love, to keep faith. Although the arc of the universe seems incredibly long, we can trust God that it bends toward mercy for all those pressed down.
Oppression will cease!

In the late night on Fridays, I have been watching the series Rings of Power, an epic drama is set thousands of years before the events of J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. It takes viewers back to an era in which great powers were forged, kingdoms rose to glory and fell to ruin, unlikely heroes were tested, hope hung by the finest of threads. Beginning in a time of relative peace, the series follows an ensemble cast of characters, both familiar and new, as they confront the long-feared re-emergence of evil to Middle-earth. It’s hard to wait as the story slowly unfolds, but we have no choice but to wait for the next bit of story.

 

In last week’s episode, things looked just as bleak as the situation Habakkuk describes. A tiny remnant of people are trapped in a tower and enemies are close. The remnant is almost ready to give in to despair. One voice reminds them that it is worth staying together to the very end.

In another scene, humble small creatures called Harfoots are on a terribly dangerous journey and a young girl, Poppy, sings to help them along their way. It’s a song very similar to the song of trust at the end of Habakkuk.

 

Poppy sings about this trip, where they trade all they’ve known for the unknown ahead.

Of drink I have little

And food I have less

My strength tells me no

But the path demands yes

My legs are so short and the way is so long

I’ve no rest nor comfort

No comfort but song

 

Sing to me sing to me lands far away
Oh rise up and guide me this wandering day
Please promise to find me this wandering day

At last comes their answer
Through cold and through frost
That not all who wonder or wander are lost
No matter the sorrow
No matter the cost
That not all who wonder or wander are lost[1]

 

A team of leaders from Christ gathered yesterday in a Synod-led workshop called Vitality 101. We gathered on behalf of this congregation and with the hope to bring the learning to you all.
Why are you here, the Synod leaders asked and each of us responded.
I said, “Well… in spite of the fact that there are many signs of vitality at Christ on Capitol Hill, in this third year of the pandemic, we’re experiencing a serious financial crisis. Also, many people have used the pandemic as a reason to say goodbye. We miss them. We feel the loss.” Those gathered from other congregations shared that they are worried too about people who have left and what the future will bring. With Habakkuk, we cried out to God. It seems like everything is failing! Together over the next six hours, though, we remembered. We are not alone. We were able to name some of the many things that are hopeful and encouraging about ministry in this place and time. We also practiced answering the Five Whys—going deeper and deeper into the question, “Why is Christ on Capitol Hill here?” What are the values that we’re aspiring to live out here? How do we listen even more deeply because each of you is here for a reason. We want all of you to be part of this vision conversation in two weeks. 

 

The prophet Habakkuk chose faith in spite of the present challenging circumstances and we can, too.
So often, like the original followers of Jesus, we doubt we can do it. We feel like we need way more than what is already here. Jesus invites us today to remember the vision of the tiny seeds already here, already rooted, already growing. If you can’t see reason for hope quite yet… wait for it. Christ is truly present and is on the way. Like brave Habakkuk, you can place your trust in God and be part of the vision that is still coming into being. It’s so true… not all who wonder or wander are lost… and we can keep singing the vision into being all along the way.

---

[1] Howard Shore and Bear Mccreary composed the song This Wandering Day for the series Rings of Power together.

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