Memorial Day Invocation

The invocation I gave at the Memorial Day ceremony in Western Springs this year:

We gather together this morning to celebrate.

            We celebrate a country of promised freedom, and the continuing commitment to ensure that all people might call themselves free.

We celebrate the many men and women who have served in the military at our behest.

            We celebrate the courage and commitment of thousands of service people who have given their all in service to their country.

           

We gather this morning to honor.

            We honor all who have left behind family, friends, and community to serve in the military.
            We honor those who have loved these United States enough to risk everything for her prosperity.
            We honor men and women throughout the years who have dedicated their lives to our freedom and our rights.

We gather this morning to lament.

            We lament the state of a world where war seems the only or most expedient answer to our nation’s problems.
            We lament the state of our nation which welcomes men and women back from war zones with silence and refusal to hear the stories of war.
            We lament the state of our souls, ready to send others to do what we would dare not – and then refusing to recognize our own culpability in what they have done.

We gather this morning to mourn.
            We mourn for all those who have given their lives in wars they believed in.
            We mourn for all who have sacrificed their lives in wars they didn’t believe in.
            We mourn for all who survived war zones, only to lose their lives in the fight against mental illness.

But most of all, we gather this morning to remember.
            We remember the service personnel we have loved and lost.
            We remember the sacrifices of so many in the service of their country.
            And we remember our God, who redeems the unredeemable; forgives the unforgivable; and encourages that we love – both our neighbor and our enemy.

So, this morning let us celebrate, honor, lament, mourn and remember. And, as President Abraham Lincoln concluded his second inaugural address:
“With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations.”

Happy? Mother's Day

It's just past Mother's Day, and I've been talking with other (mostly female) pastors about whether it's appropriate to celebrate Mother's Day in church. The history of Mother's Day isn't actually Christian. Rather, the roots of Mother's Day are traced back to the Greek celebrations of women and motherhood through the goddesses. The celebration of Mother's Day in the US began when one woman believed that all people should honor and appreciate their mothers - a quite secular beginning, as it were. Thus, the question arises whether we should celebrate secular holidays in church on Sunday mornings.

Of course, the reality of our society is that we fail to separate secular and church holidays. The 4th of July tends to be marked and celebrated in church, and Christmas and Easter are celebrated in the secular world. This being the case, I've been considering how one might honor mothers and Mother's Day in the church in a distinctly Christian way. That meaning how might we honor mothers while recognizing the Christian values of discipleship, justice, and peace.

The Religious Institute provided the resource that we at St. James used on Mother's Day. The litany we read reminded us of many things: that not all mothers wish to be mothers; that some women wish to be mothers and have not been able to bear children; that many women are mothers of children that never lived, or that died young; that many mothers go without pre-natal care; that many mothers die in childbirth because they don't have proper medical attention. All of these realities must be lifted up when we think to honor mothers in the church. But there is another reality that the celebration of Mother's Day ignores: that not all children have mothers who have cared for them, loved them, or nurtured them as they should. All people have mothers - that is how we are brought into this world. But there are many orphans, both children whose parents have died and those whose parents simply don't care for them. In recognizing Mother's Day, we must also recognize the importance of 'other' women in the lives of children (and adults) who might have taken on this role.

Here we understand that for many people, Mother's Day may cause as much pain as joy. The pain of having lost a wonderful mother is one reminder, though painful, of God's presence and God's grace in our lives. However, the reminder that the Bible says "honor your mother" while at the same time she beats you or abandons you leaves us confused and hurting. The reminder that you are a mother because of rape or because your husband has forced you to become a mother also leaves us hurt and confused. The reminder that you could not bear children and so people do not consider you the mother of your adopted children leaves us hurting and lost. God's will for our lives is healing and hope -- discipleship, justice, and peace -- not hurt, confusion, and chaos. Furthermore, women who have had miscarriages or still-births, women who have been unable to get pregnant, women who have lost children, women who have had abortions, and women who have chosen not to be mothers... all of these might be alienated, hurt, and confused during the celebration of Mother's Day. What is God's word of hope for these women?

As the article linked in the heading for this post indicates, women still are not free in our society to choose not to be mothers. Such women are considered selfish or presumed to be gay. When might these women, who contribute to society and church, be lifted up and recognized as graced children of God? And when might children of abusive or absent mothers be reminded that they, too, are graced children of God? When do we remember that mothers whose children have died are also graced children of God? When do we remember that women who have not chosen motherhood but who had it chosen for them are themselves graced children of God?

This is not to say that mothers should not be recognized and honored. The world has many mothers, and motherhood is a difficult calling and profession. Mothers around the world deserve the recognition they get on this one day -- the recognition that they work hard, love profoundly, and live in the world with grace. But those others also deserve a day, a time to be recognized and honored. So, with Mother's Day just behind us, let us recognize those in our lives and in our world who find that day hurtful and confusing. Let us remind these that they, too, are children of a loving Mother God who lives in their world and their lives with grace. And let us remember that God's grace extends to all God's children - and we honor the image of God in all of us.

God bless us all on this day, and on all days. Amen.

"Top cardinal, Tarcisio Bertone, blames paedophile crisis on homosexuals"

Words fail me to describe my reaction to reading the article above. To quote:

Cardinal Tarcisio Bertone, the Vatican Secretary of State, said: “Many psychologists and psychiatrists have demonstrated that there is no relationship between celibacy and paedophilia. But many others have demonstrated, I have been told recently, that there is a relationship between homosexuality and paedophilia. That is true. That is the problem.”

 This is an outrageous accusation. Not only is it untrue that there is a decisive link between homosexuality and pedophilia, it fails to recognize the statistics. Children are far more likely to be abused by people of heterosexual orientation than by people of homosexual orientation. Furthermore, statements like this one focus attention on potential perpetrators, rather than focusing attention where it belongs: on caring for the victims and survivors of such abuse. I am unaware that either celibacy or homosexuality are directly linked to child sexual abuse. Rather, abuse of any kind is linked to a power and control dynamic in which a person with power (in this case the priest) executes that power by demeaning a person with less power (in this case, children). This power can be exhibited in many ways, one of which is sexual abuse. Statistically speaking, males who abuse children are more likely to be of heterosexual orientation, or as this article asserts, no recognized sexual orientation. Making accusations like this one takes the onus off of the church to help past victims and prevent future occurrences. It is the church's responsibility to do everything in its power to ensure safe space for all of God's people. Pretending that the problem exists solely because of some group that can be blamed and punished does not do anyone any good.


But that's not the end of it! The article continues:

Giacomo Babini, the retired Bishop of Grosseto in Italy, was quoted by an Italian Catholic website as complaining about a Zionist attack on the Church. In an interview he was said to have described Jews as the “natural enemies” of Catholicism. “Deep down, historically speaking, the Jews are deicides [God-killers],” he said. 

I take exception to anyone who calls Jews 'God-killers' (even excepting that by adding "historically") without recognizing that Christians, too, are God-killers, as are Romans and Africans (remember Simon of Cyrene) and anyone else that may have been present at that public execution. So it is indeed unfair and in fact sinful to label this historical event as a Jewish problem or a Jewish sin. Jesus was not killed because of one person or one religious group. Rather, Jesus was killed because the social structures of the world could not and would not tolerate his preaching, teaching, healing, and living into a different-looking world. Jesus challenged the rules about what is clean and dirty. Jesus challenged the rules about who one can talk to our eat with. Jesus challenged the rules about what it is to be sick or healthy. He challenged the rules about what it means to be living in sin or righteous. And the people with power in that society refused to allow Jesus to change the status-quo. In fact, some of the people without power did the same thing -- trying to join those with power by aligning their opinions and their 'vote' to what those in power would have them say... a vote for crucifixion.

Dare we believe that it would be any different today? If Jesus were to come healing people, would we not call him possessed? If Jesus were to come proclaiming forgiveness of sins, would we not call him psychologically disturbed? If Jesus were to come teaching the homeless, walking through radioactive dumps with children, and sitting to eat with them without first washing his hands, would we not call him dirty and unclean?

No, it is not the Jews who killed Christ. It was us. All of us. Because we could not then and still cannot bear the message that he brought and brings to us: God's kin-dom is not of this world. God's power does not become manifest in violence. God's healing and grace are extended to the world, the whole world... and this grace is realized only when those who have more than enough share with those who have not enough.

I fear that those who have not enough are more aware of God's daily grace even than I am - and I think I look for it!  But when every moment of one's life is contingent on God's presence and grace, noticing seems to become a regular part of life. Might God's kin-dom come when we all recognize that every moment of all of our lives are contingent on that presence and grace?

God's kin-dom will only come when we stop blaming our neighbors for the problems of the world, and start recognizing that we have some part in those problems as well. Only when I recognize my failures and sins, and begin to confess, repent and remediate them, will anyone else be willing to do the same. And, when we all reach that point, perhaps God's kin-dom will indeed be present.

Holy (hell) Week

I picked up that title from someone on facebook. The busiest times for pastors are the month before Christmas and the month before Easter... but I suspect that Holy Week tops any other time of the year for busy-ness and to-do lists and sermons to preach. Anyway, I'm living through my first Holy Week as a pastor, and so far it's not so bad... but we'll have services every day/night from now until Sunday... which will be no small feat - especially since I need to give a sermon or reflection at at least 3 of those services.

So, I have sermons to craft and "things" to do (before a week of vacation next week) and people to visit and letters to write and calls to respond to... all of the everyday business of the church. I am sitting in my office with the sun shining brightly through the window, and the flowering bush -- I'd share what kind it is if I had any idea -- reaching out its radient yellow flowers to me, and the grass luscious green in the park, and children's laughter floating toward my ears... and for a moment I wish I were a child again, allowed to experience spring with laughter and freedom instead of to-do lists and obligations. But then I recognize this springtime, this sunshine, this laughter are all rays of God's grace. God isn't suggesting to me that I cannot enjoy spring with laughter and freedom. In fact, I suspect if I found the source of that laughter, God would be among those children laughing too! Jesus wouldn't be spending his time writing his sermons behind a desk, but basking in the sunlight with his friends. I worry that when we focus too much on our jobs, our tasks, our obligations, we forget that God's grace extends to us everywhere and in every place. We miss God's grace. And in the process, we miss also God's very presence in our world, in our lives.

And I think, that's what Holy Week is all about ... remembering God's presence and grace in our world and in our lives...

So I've decided that I'm not going to spend the day indoors, behind my desk. Maybe God created cell phones so we could make our phone calls from a tree we've climbed. Maybe God created laptops so we could craft sermons in the park. Maybe God created me to bring sunshine to those people I visit, to walk outside with them or open their blinds. Maybe God created the whole world so that we might remember God's grace and God's presence in every moment of our lives.

I might stick around and finish this post with something clever, but the playground outside is calling. I hope you find God's grace and presence today too... I'll meet you and God at the swings!

Church of the Misfits?

I know it's well past Christmas now, but about springtime I always start singing Christmas songs again. Lately I've been thinking about Rudolph & the Island of Misfit Toys. This has come to mind with regard to St. James in an interesting way. As it turns out, a part of our identity seems to be that most of us don't "fit in" with whatever society has told us we are or should be... but at St. James, we are a collection of people who are loved, cared for, and befriended without regard to our 'misfit' status in some other part of the world.

Perhaps I love St. James so much because that is how I identify. Christian society (generally) says that women should not be pastors. Society says people should be nationalistic first and social-justice oriented second (if at all). Society says (even still) that women should be the ones to take care of the home and the children -- work should come second. But I don't identify with the shoulds. I identify with Rudolph and Hermey, who sing that it's OK to be "A Couple of Misfits."

Throughout my life, my best friends have been the people around me with strong identities. People who know who they are and what they stand for -- and yet, are open to hearing and even considering other points of view. That is, open to hearing and considering, but not by giving up their own positions. What is astounding is that these people, by and large, aren't the "popular" folks. Popularity arises when a person of strong personality or charisma manages to find followers who are willing to mold their own ideas to that of the popular opinion... and thus the popular group grows... until it reaches the limit of "us" and "them." In this case, many of the "them" wishes they were "us," and often they try their hardest to become what the popular group would have them to be.

For misfits, it is not so. Misfits retain their identity and require others to do the same. Misfits do not invite followers, but engage partners... i.e. conversation partners or debate partners. Even as misfits seek their identity, they seek it on their own path, in their own ways, with their own words. So then the question arises, does Christianity merely invite followers (even disciples), or can Christianity engage misfit partners as well?

Certainly, Christianity seeks to make disciples of Christ -- that is in fact our "Great Commission" (Matthew 28:16-20). We do indeed seek to follow Jesus' teachings and practices, to walk where Jesus walked. And popular Christianity does just that... to an extent. Popular Christianity shares the good news of Jesus' life and death and (sometimes) resurrection. It shares the good news that Jesus can bring healing to your body, your soul, your life. But I worry about popular Christianity. I worry about religious experiences that are easy, popular, even fun...

...because although Jesus was 'popular' in the sense that he had and has lots of followers - the 12 apostles, plus many disciples, plus the huge crowds that came to see and hear - he wasn't popular with the powerful groups. He wasn't popular with the government. He wasn't popular with the church. In fact, Jesus was killed by a collusion of church and state -- the Powers that Be. What did he do so wrong? Well, I think Jesus was himself a misfit. He spoke respectfully to women. He touched unclean people. He dined with "sinners" and hated tax collectors. He found the misfits in society and spent time with them -- like Zacchaeus the tax collector who was so far outside of the crowd that he had to climb a tree to see Jesus. Jesus saw him, found him, dined with him, and changed his life. Jesus didn't take away Zacchaeus' identity. Jesus didn't tell Zacchaeus what to think and you'd better not ask questions. Jesus wasn't about forming groupies. Rather, in all of Jesus' interactions, he sought partners. Conversation partners. Debate partners. Partners who, in engaging with Christ, might find themselves healed and their lives changed.

It is that to which I think we are called. To follow Jesus not in "what would Jesus do" style - though that's a good start! - but in how might we engage the Christ within us and the Christ within our neighbor that both of our lives might be changed. And that is not easy. Because that requires not just sharing what Jesus did, but doing what Jesus did. Not only feeding the hungry, but asking why there are hungry. Not only healing the sick, but ensuring the sick can get healthcare. Not only putting money toward eradicating homelessness, but working against the injustices in the world that cause it. And those, my friends, are not popular causes. Identifying any of those issues will define you as misfit. But it goes beyond that, even. We remember that Christ died for the healing (salvation) of the world. If we are to follow Jesus, we follow even unto death. Those parts of our own selves that retain selfishness, jealousy, envy, pride, enmity, even power... we must learn to let them die... so that we might rise, clothed with the righteousness, faithfulness, forgiveness, and humility of Christ.

This is the misfit-ness of Christ. The savior who didn't meet the expectations of his people. The God who became like us in order to heal us.

And so, I believe, the Christian church can indeed be a church of misfits. St. James' people come together into loving Christian community, embracing one another in a way that the world does not and perhaps cannot. In a way that even other churches may not. Perhaps that is why I love these people so much. Perhaps that is why I am called to this place in this time. And perhaps we might learn to embrace an identity of Church of the Misfits. With the misfit Christ as our guide.

To trust... or not?

My latest devotional book is "Reasons for Hope" by Jose Luis Martin Descalzo. Having just started it, I cannot comment on the frame of the book as a whole, or on its real suitability for devotional reading. However, today I came across a single paragraph that drew me up short. Today, we read about trust:

"I have always maintained that trust is an integral part of human life, that rather than live with an armor-plated soul, it would be better not to live at all. If I cannot trust those around me, if I put up a barrier of barbed wire around my life and around my heart, I am not hurting the people who come close to me. I am hurting myself. An untrusting heart gets old quickly. A heart that is shut up tight is deader than a heart whose owner has already passed away." (6)

Trust is a strange, intriguing, difficult facet of life. We learn trust - at least theoretically - as infants and children, having strong adults around us who help us interpret the world and know what to expect. For so many children, when they learn trust in this way, their first instinct becomes to trust with reckless abandon. They offer life and love and freedom to everyone they meet. When I meet such children, I feel their joy in life; I too experience their trust that in the end, all will be OK.

But the world we live in is not a fundamentally trustworthy place. Sinful people inhabit a broken world. Terrible things happen to the earth - like earthquakes and blizzards and tsunamis. Terrible things happen to people - like kidnapping and burglary and rape. As children grow, responsible parents carefully teach them about the dangers in the world, ideas of how to keep safe-r. And the challenge becomes sharing the reality of danger, without crushing the necessity of trust.

Over and over again, the Bible tells us "Do not be afraid." God hopes for us, God desires for us, a sense of safety, of trust, of love. God reminds us that fear and despair do not get to win. God's very presence in the world is a presence of trust and of peace. Yet, even though the angels preach this message again and again, fear exists. The angels do not extinguish all danger. God does not break into the world and suddenly wipe away all things bad or painful or tragic. Rather, God invites us into a journey to the kin-dom. A journey begun in the Bible stories we've collected. A journey in which this broken and sinful world (and this broken and sinful generation) finds healing, mending, care, peace... and trust. As we join this journey, as we take part in the healing to be done, as we begin to trust again - even with reckless abandon - we begin to discover God's peace. We begin to discover that, with God's community, we can trust in spite of the danger. We begin to discover that our trusting hearts are open hearts - hearts open to our neighbors, hearts open to our world, hearts open to God's peace.

Lent comes quickly; on Wednesday this 40-day journey will begin again. Are you ready? Am I ready? May we use this time, this journey, to take the journey toward the kin-dom. May we use it to recognize the places our hearts have become hardened or deadened. May we use it to repent from these places. May we use it to ever so slowly learn again how to trust. And may we allow our transformed hearts to take part in the coming kin-dom... as together, we journey on.

Discernment

As St. James and I continue walking into our future together, I find we constantly ask God, "Where are you calling us now?" "Where are you calling me now?" As part of the discovery process, I've begun reading Discernment: a path to spiritual awakening by Rose Mary Dougherty. Today, I read:

“Discernment is ultimately about love. It is about seeing, in the moment, the loving action that is mine and having the freedom to respond and to act.”

Today, I am not free. Today has been a difficult day, for no reason outside myself. Today I am bound by shame, some of which is rightfully mine, and some which is not. There are mistakes I have made, tasks I have been incapable of doing or completing, conversations I have done poorly or not at all. There are also haunts of my past and present, things that have been done to me, ways people have acted or failed to act that have hurt me. All of these culminate, some days, in a difficult, encumbering shame.

Today I am not free. I am not free to discern, because my vision is suddenly myopic. I am not free to respond in love, because I am not able to receive this love. I am not free to act, because I am paralyzed by the shame that encompasses me. 

Today, I am not free. And yet, the Loving One still reaches out. The Loving One still reminds me I am named and claimed as a Child of God. I am not destined to be bound by shame. I am not destined to a life without freedom. The embrace of the Loving One does not prevent or obliterate shame. Rather, this touch of God heals. 

Discernment is gift, not goal. In my seeking, in my hoping, in my needing, discernment comes. May I welcome this – thoughtfulness, wisdom, experience, relationship, healing touch. May I welcome God into my midst, into myself.