May the strong grace, the gentle comfort, and the sure guidance of the Divine Beloved be with you.
As I begin this, it is still dark outside. The sun is just beginning to make her marks on the trees, snow, and balcony outside my sliding glass door. There are white Christmas lights bordering the door which is sealed with weatherproofing. I am grateful to be warm and drinking my masala chai, protected from the harshness of weather.
For the last couple of years I have returned to this place of intentional gratitude for being sheltered, fed, and clothed. I know that there are many more people in the world than I can imagine who have much much less than I have. Ah, you may think, but you don't have that much. No, I don't possess many things, but I do have ample food and shelter. There was a time when each night I searched for where I would sleep and each day I did not know if I would have food. Because I could not be what and who I thought I was supposed to be, I took to isolation. I hid so that I would not stick out, feel shame, and cause anyone who knew me and loved me to feel embarrassment.
As the sun exposes the misty grayness of the day, as the outline of the tree limbs become clearer, and as we move from Advent to Christmas I begin to think about the harsh conditions that Mary endured during her pregnancy and then on her pilgrimage to Joseph's hometown which ended in her giving birth. I wonder if she felt shame during her pregnancy and hid so that she did not embarrass her family or Joseph. I wonder if she had second thoughts about her calling while on the road to Bethlehem. I wonder if the long trek on a hard road with the stress of not finding lodging induced her labor. And I wonder if after she gave birth to a healthy baby boy if the blurry outlines of her understanding came into focus, if she was able to celebrate with the shepherds and the angels or if she fell asleep exhausted after feeding her newborn from her already tired body.
Mary's story is told over and over, mostly focusing on Jesus and the greatness and wonder of his birth. I love Jesus. His life, teaching, and actions guide me. But this year my thoughts wander to Mary, a woman in crisis. The story of Mary reminds me that there are many mothers whose pregnancies are criticized and who give birth in harsh conditions. This story also reminds me that there are many sons and daughters who work hard to live a life worthy of their mother's love and vision for them and in the end are bullied, accused of having wrongful motivations and of committing shameful crimes against people, the state, and God. These other stories are rarely known outside of their circle and even more rarely told.
Maybe my thoughts are wandering this way because my community of late is centered around women, some of whom are doulas, midwives, mothers, and/or educators. I hear many stories of births, raising children, hopes for children, disappointment, and strength. For most of my life, Mary being pregnant and giving birth was more theoretical and spiritual than physical. I imagined her not shouting out in pain much like we read that Jesus did not shout out in pain when he was on the cross. Today, on this eve of our celebration of the birth of our Messiah, my spirit is pulled toward Mary as a mother about to give birth and to her pain and hope.
The isolation of Mary and Joseph in a barn gives way to a crowded stable nursery, at least in most Crèche's, filled with angels, shepherds, wise men, sheep, cows, and the like. We see Mary, Joseph, and Jesus being surrounded by admirers and worshipers. Soon they will be isolated again, but for now, they have a makeshift community supporting them and giving their flagging vision some needed encouragement. They will go on, continuing their hard journey with the memory of those moments of wonder and support.
For me, now the sun is fully up. The day is still misty gray, but the trees, the snow, and the house across the way are fully in view. The hardships of my life which began because I was confused and in many different kinds of pain are lifted. I feel lucky to be on this side of my life. This Christmas Eve I feel the pull to be a witness of the mystery of hope in the midst of dire circumstances.
Many blessings to you, my reader. Consider the awe of the birthing of Jesus. I pray that you find the strength of Mary every day of your life.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Sunday, December 19, 2010
What Will You Ask?
Texts: Matthew 1:18-25 and Isaiah 7:10-16
Advent is a time of remembering the birth of Jesus as well as anticipating his return. We have been waiting for Jesus for a long time. If Jesus had returned when it was assumed he would, none of us would have been born. The early church was disappointed and eventually had to decide how to cope with the fact that they were still alive on earth, still dealing with poverty and illness, and still being subjected to political and religious abuses of power.
This delayed Parousia disappoints us as well. After all this time we still face poverty, illness, and abuses of power. It is difficult to know what to believe about the legend of Jesus’ birth as well as what it means that he will return. Will he return? When? What will it look like? How will it feel? Will we know it when it happens?
According to the gospel stories Jesus will return like a thief in the night and yet it will be as apparent as lightening flashing from the east to the west. We are to wait for it but not sit and wait ... we are to keep busy continuing the ministry of Jesus.
Yearly we remind ourselves about Christ’s humble beginnings and we celebrate his birth which foretold a shift in power. We talk about Hope, Peace, Joy, and Love. We start our new church year and begin again actively waiting for Christ’s return.
Each year Advent and the celebration of Christmas mean more to me than the year before. In spite of the fact that Jesus has yet to return and that we are still fighting the same old battles for equality, I am comforted remembering that Jesus was born under trying circumstances for the purpose of freeing all people and inspired at the hope that of the Parousia. When I hear the story of Mary and Joseph making their trek to Bethlehem; the angels making their declarations; the shepherds hearing and believing the tidings of great joy; and the Magi following a star to find a baby king, I think to myself, “Yes, I can continue.” It doesn’t seem rational or logical, but in my spirit/gut I am grateful to be a part of this story.
That doesn’t mean that I’m not disappointed or confused. In our Isaiah text we hear the prophet railing against Ahaz because he refuses to ask God for a sign. Ahaz claims that he does not want to put God to the test, however Isaiah believes this is a cover up. I have to say that in this vignette I identify with Ahaz. After years of asking God for help, believing God to change things, and waiting for God to return I’m not always sure I have the strength for more disappointment. It is hard to take the risk to ask for one more thing when so many other requests feel ignored or denied.
And yet, the story of Jesus’ birth rings in my soul. This is the sign that we cling to. Our souls can nestle into the certainty of a babe born to a young woman even while we wait for the Parousia – the second coming – the eventual and final shift of power toward true liberty and wholeness for all. Not wholeness for which we lobby, either to our God or to our political leaders; not liberty for those born in a certain country or of a certain economic status; but wholeness and liberty without question or compromise.
In the Isaiah scripture, the prophet speaks a word of God to Ahaz saying, “Don’t be afraid. Yes it looks like your enemy will devour you but quiet your heart. I won’t let this happen. Ask a sign of me so that you can be certain.” But Ahaz will not ask for a sign. Ahaz is too afraid and cannot quiet his heart enough to believe these words. Isaiah says that Ahaz wearies God.
Let us not weary God. As we consider the birth of Jesus to an unwed mother, the birth of a babe that will lead his people through healing and feeding rather than violence, let us ask God for a sign. Let us ask God to help us believe that we can make it through the next conflict, whatever it is.
What will you ask? Can you quiet your heart to believe the words of the prophet? And when the results we are looking for don’t come the way we had hoped or in the timing that seemed right, can we still believe, quiet our hearts, and ask for a sign? This faith thing takes risks. It also takes not knowing what is going to happen, how it may happen, or when it may happen. It takes quieting our hearts when it looks like we will be devoured.
Friends, I adjure you to look to the comfort and hope of Jesus born to Mary and Joseph, and to look to the strength of Mary and Joseph. We wait and sometimes we are disappointed with the results. We wait and sometimes the waiting is long. We wait though, for a promise that is at the intersection of this earthly existence and transcendence. We wait for a mystery. We wait together, actively, continuing the ministry of Jesus.
Advent is a time of remembering the birth of Jesus as well as anticipating his return. We have been waiting for Jesus for a long time. If Jesus had returned when it was assumed he would, none of us would have been born. The early church was disappointed and eventually had to decide how to cope with the fact that they were still alive on earth, still dealing with poverty and illness, and still being subjected to political and religious abuses of power.
This delayed Parousia disappoints us as well. After all this time we still face poverty, illness, and abuses of power. It is difficult to know what to believe about the legend of Jesus’ birth as well as what it means that he will return. Will he return? When? What will it look like? How will it feel? Will we know it when it happens?
According to the gospel stories Jesus will return like a thief in the night and yet it will be as apparent as lightening flashing from the east to the west. We are to wait for it but not sit and wait ... we are to keep busy continuing the ministry of Jesus.
Yearly we remind ourselves about Christ’s humble beginnings and we celebrate his birth which foretold a shift in power. We talk about Hope, Peace, Joy, and Love. We start our new church year and begin again actively waiting for Christ’s return.
Each year Advent and the celebration of Christmas mean more to me than the year before. In spite of the fact that Jesus has yet to return and that we are still fighting the same old battles for equality, I am comforted remembering that Jesus was born under trying circumstances for the purpose of freeing all people and inspired at the hope that of the Parousia. When I hear the story of Mary and Joseph making their trek to Bethlehem; the angels making their declarations; the shepherds hearing and believing the tidings of great joy; and the Magi following a star to find a baby king, I think to myself, “Yes, I can continue.” It doesn’t seem rational or logical, but in my spirit/gut I am grateful to be a part of this story.
That doesn’t mean that I’m not disappointed or confused. In our Isaiah text we hear the prophet railing against Ahaz because he refuses to ask God for a sign. Ahaz claims that he does not want to put God to the test, however Isaiah believes this is a cover up. I have to say that in this vignette I identify with Ahaz. After years of asking God for help, believing God to change things, and waiting for God to return I’m not always sure I have the strength for more disappointment. It is hard to take the risk to ask for one more thing when so many other requests feel ignored or denied.
And yet, the story of Jesus’ birth rings in my soul. This is the sign that we cling to. Our souls can nestle into the certainty of a babe born to a young woman even while we wait for the Parousia – the second coming – the eventual and final shift of power toward true liberty and wholeness for all. Not wholeness for which we lobby, either to our God or to our political leaders; not liberty for those born in a certain country or of a certain economic status; but wholeness and liberty without question or compromise.
In the Isaiah scripture, the prophet speaks a word of God to Ahaz saying, “Don’t be afraid. Yes it looks like your enemy will devour you but quiet your heart. I won’t let this happen. Ask a sign of me so that you can be certain.” But Ahaz will not ask for a sign. Ahaz is too afraid and cannot quiet his heart enough to believe these words. Isaiah says that Ahaz wearies God.
Let us not weary God. As we consider the birth of Jesus to an unwed mother, the birth of a babe that will lead his people through healing and feeding rather than violence, let us ask God for a sign. Let us ask God to help us believe that we can make it through the next conflict, whatever it is.
What will you ask? Can you quiet your heart to believe the words of the prophet? And when the results we are looking for don’t come the way we had hoped or in the timing that seemed right, can we still believe, quiet our hearts, and ask for a sign? This faith thing takes risks. It also takes not knowing what is going to happen, how it may happen, or when it may happen. It takes quieting our hearts when it looks like we will be devoured.
Friends, I adjure you to look to the comfort and hope of Jesus born to Mary and Joseph, and to look to the strength of Mary and Joseph. We wait and sometimes we are disappointed with the results. We wait and sometimes the waiting is long. We wait though, for a promise that is at the intersection of this earthly existence and transcendence. We wait for a mystery. We wait together, actively, continuing the ministry of Jesus.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Advent Joy
This is the third Sunday of Advent. Today we celebrate Joy ... the joy of Christ's upcoming birth; the joy of our hearts being open (like the shepherd's hearts) to this miracle of God incarnate; and the joy of these long nights soon becoming shorter.
The advent wreath reminds us that there is still green and vibrant life even in this harsh season. We who live in winters of snow and cold need to have these visible reminders. When our evergreen tree friends are blanketed in snowy-whiteness, they are nevertheless vibrant and bearers of hope for us toward spring.
The circle of the wreath reminds us that the seasons are cyclical: the seasons of the world, the seasons of the church, and the seasons of our lives. As one moment dies another is born.
This week we look toward the joy of the birth of the next moment - the birth of Jesus who will be called Christ and Saviour. As we bundle up with coats, scarves, mittens and boots we can set our minds to the joy of spring. As Mary was in the last trimester of her pregnancy I imagine she sometimes set her mind on the joy of the birth of her child, praying for a healthy baby that she would love with all her heart.
In these times of economic, political, and holiday stress, on what can you set your joy? Can you recall a message that you heard, like the shepherds heard the message of the angel and the praise of the host of heaven? Can you set your sights on that message and breathe through the stresses you encounter?
The birth of Christ is, amoung other things, a call for us to hope beyond reason and to praise beyond measure. This hope and praise can lead us to a joy that lives within and in spite of our circumstances.
This week we are called to encounter the shepherd's heart in our own heart and to lift our voices to sing praises of joy with the heavenly host.
Wednesday, December 01, 2010
World AIDS Day
Today while in the chapel during the noontime World AIDS Day prayer gathering I spent a lot of time thinking about and praying about consciousness. I called forth from within me a consciousness about the pandemic of AIDS and I spiritually sought out others who are conscious. I also prayed that the many who are not conscious will become so. I shaped my consciousness like velcro - sticky and seeking its mate.
What does it mean to be conscious and how does this have anything to do with how I understand my Divine Beloved or Jesus?
Consciousness has to do with being awake. There are many teachings in the Bible that have to do with not falling asleep or remaining alert. As I consider these teachings it occurs to me that altogether too often it is easy to fall asleep or to slip into an unconscious or subconscious state. It takes work to stay awake ... alert ... conscious. It takes diligence and some amount of skill. I am not that best at this and fall asleep all too often.
Today as I sat as still as I can make myself (I am a wiggler) and as I focused on those loved ones who had AIDS and have died as well as those who have AIDS and are still fighting, it seemed clear to me that much of the work that I do has to do with waking people up and with connecting to those who are conscious. As I tell stories, my own and those of others, I am connecting to the consciousness of those listening and trying to wake up those who are still asleep.
Our collaborative energy, awareness, and voices will bring about change. We can't keep hitting the snooze button, we must all wake up, work together, and love each other.
What does it mean to be conscious and how does this have anything to do with how I understand my Divine Beloved or Jesus?
Consciousness has to do with being awake. There are many teachings in the Bible that have to do with not falling asleep or remaining alert. As I consider these teachings it occurs to me that altogether too often it is easy to fall asleep or to slip into an unconscious or subconscious state. It takes work to stay awake ... alert ... conscious. It takes diligence and some amount of skill. I am not that best at this and fall asleep all too often.
Today as I sat as still as I can make myself (I am a wiggler) and as I focused on those loved ones who had AIDS and have died as well as those who have AIDS and are still fighting, it seemed clear to me that much of the work that I do has to do with waking people up and with connecting to those who are conscious. As I tell stories, my own and those of others, I am connecting to the consciousness of those listening and trying to wake up those who are still asleep.
Our collaborative energy, awareness, and voices will bring about change. We can't keep hitting the snooze button, we must all wake up, work together, and love each other.
AUDITIONS for Michiana Monologues 2011
Interested in performing in the 2011 Michiana Monologues - Band of Sisters? Mark your calendar with the upcoming audition dates!
* Thurs.Dec. 9th, 7pm at IUSB - 3001 Wiekamp Hall
* Friday, Dec. 10, 7 pm at IUSB, 3001 Wiekamp Hall
* Sat Dec 11th, 9:30am at 1st Congressional UCC in Elkhart, in the Marcus Darling Room, 431 South 3rd Street (corner of 3rd and Marion in downtown Elkhart)
For information about accessing Monologues to perform at the audition (and performance dates), see details on our website: www.michianamonologues.org
** Share the news; auditions are open to all women from campus and community **
AUDITIONS for Michiana Monologues 2011 – Band of Sisters
* Thurs.Dec. 9th, 7pm at IUSB - 3001 Wiekamp Hall
* Friday, Dec. 10, 7 pm at IUSB, 3001 Wiekamp Hall
* Sat Dec 11th, 9:30am at 1st Congressional UCC in Elkhart, in the Marcus Darling Room, 431 South 3rd Street (corner of 3rd and Marion in downtown Elkhart)
For information about accessing Monologues to perform at the audition (and performance dates), see details on our website: www.michianamonologues.org
** Share the news; auditions are open to all women from campus and community **
AUDITIONS for Michiana Monologues 2011 – Band of Sisters
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Advent Hope
I have been sitting looking at this empty page on and off now for about 2 hours. I heard a wonderful sermon on Advent Hope this morning at 1st UCC Elkhart, I've read some wonderful Advent reflections over the past couple of days ... and yet I do not feel a flow of ideas that are forming themselves into words.
It isn't that I don't have hope. Hope is my fuel. Sometimes my tank runs low, but mostly I have enough to get where I need to go.
The ritual of Advent appeals to me, so there isn't a hurdle there. This year I am looking forward to adorning my small tree and setting up other Christmas decorations.
And still ... I can not find within me an inspiring reflection.
Here is what is rolling around in my head. It is a phrase from the Roman Catholic Mass. I was born and raised a Roman Catholic. Even though I am a Protestant now, my R.C. upbringing vibrates within me. Sometimes it vibrates in harmony, sometimes (tho rarely) it is the melody, sometimes it is discordant. What I have been hearing these last few days is a part of the Lord's Prayer. In the R.C. mass where I went to church the Lord's prayer was sung. Toward the end, just before "For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours, now and forever." there was a pause in the song when the priest says or sings this,
"Deliver us, Lord from every evil, and grant us peace in our day. In your mercy keep us free from sin and protect us from all anxiety as we wait in joyful hope for the coming of our Saviour, Jesus Christ."
In the church where I grew up, after the priest sung this in his monotone style the organ music would swell and we would have a grand finish"
"For thine is the kingdom,
and the power,
and the glory
forever!"
Our organist was amazing. Amazing, I tell you!! And her voice was as big as the 40 acres of our farm. As we sang the "Our Father" we started out confidently though quietly. The song would build and then pause for the priest to pray for us - praying that we would be protected so that our joyful hope would not be blocked by evil and anxiety. Then ... the big finish ... glorious and exhilarating. Each and every week this happened for at least 3 years of my teenage life.
This is what stays with me, this glorious finish preceded by the calm yet fervent prayer that our joyful hope be not extinguished by evil or anxiety.
Oh God ... hear our prayer.
It isn't that I don't have hope. Hope is my fuel. Sometimes my tank runs low, but mostly I have enough to get where I need to go.
The ritual of Advent appeals to me, so there isn't a hurdle there. This year I am looking forward to adorning my small tree and setting up other Christmas decorations.
And still ... I can not find within me an inspiring reflection.
Here is what is rolling around in my head. It is a phrase from the Roman Catholic Mass. I was born and raised a Roman Catholic. Even though I am a Protestant now, my R.C. upbringing vibrates within me. Sometimes it vibrates in harmony, sometimes (tho rarely) it is the melody, sometimes it is discordant. What I have been hearing these last few days is a part of the Lord's Prayer. In the R.C. mass where I went to church the Lord's prayer was sung. Toward the end, just before "For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours, now and forever." there was a pause in the song when the priest says or sings this,
"Deliver us, Lord from every evil, and grant us peace in our day. In your mercy keep us free from sin and protect us from all anxiety as we wait in joyful hope for the coming of our Saviour, Jesus Christ."
In the church where I grew up, after the priest sung this in his monotone style the organ music would swell and we would have a grand finish"
"For thine is the kingdom,
and the power,
and the glory
forever!"
Our organist was amazing. Amazing, I tell you!! And her voice was as big as the 40 acres of our farm. As we sang the "Our Father" we started out confidently though quietly. The song would build and then pause for the priest to pray for us - praying that we would be protected so that our joyful hope would not be blocked by evil and anxiety. Then ... the big finish ... glorious and exhilarating. Each and every week this happened for at least 3 years of my teenage life.
This is what stays with me, this glorious finish preceded by the calm yet fervent prayer that our joyful hope be not extinguished by evil or anxiety.
Oh God ... hear our prayer.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
In memory of Tiasha
Today is Transgender Day of Remembrance. I have a memory that I'd like to share with you.
Nineteen years ago I met a beautiful woman who was funny, kind, and hard-working. I'll call her Tiasha. She worked for an organization at which I periodically volunteered. I also had a friend who worked for this organization. I'll call him Kevin.
Kevin identified as a straight white man. Tiasha identified as a straight black woman. I identified as an ex-gay white woman.
I didn't know Tiasha very well, but when I would call to talk to Kevin she was always quick to recognize me and to tease me lovingly saying that I had a sultry voice. I couldn't hear what she heard, but I loved that she was so easy-going and playful. Kevin seemed to enjoy working with her and spoke of her with some frequency. In our conversations I learned that she was periodically ill, more than seemed average.
I volunteered for this organization for about three years. It was in that third that Kevin called me in shock. Tiasha had died suddenly. Furthermore, he said, Tiasha wasn't Tiasha but actually was Norman. Kevin then said, "Norman died of AIDS."
I questioned why he was suddenly calling Tiasha he and Norman. Kevin said that Tiasha was a lie and that Norman was the truth. He wouldn't call Norman she or Tiasha. My heart sunk. I had no words to help me express what I was thinking, feeling, or reacting to. I had noone to help me think through this complicated scenario. Kevin seemed to think it was very simple. I knew that it wasn't.
Tiasha was Tiasha. I honestly believed, and still believe, that in most ways, I didn't know Norman. I had never met him. I had met and worked alongside Tiasha. She was great. I didn't feel betrayed, although I did feel sad.
First, I felt sad because this vibrant wonderful woman was suddenly dead.
Second, her family took her body and had a private funeral for "him." I asked about a memorial service for her and was told there wouldn't be one.
Third, she had AIDS. All those times she was sick and we didn't know why. For the more ignorant and paranoid, they thought she might have given them AIDS just by her presence with them. They were angry that she hadn't told them because they thought they had the right to protect themselves. Even then I knew that was ridiculous.
Fourth, she was being referred to now as he. How could they do that? Tiasha was clearly a woman. Even though the shape of her body was a surprise to us, what did it matter? It didn't change who she had been to us. The words that I heard them say about her prompted me to not volunteer there anymore.
At the time I was aware that some people had sex changes. As a young adult I had some interest in having a sex change, but for many reasons I didn't follow through. When I met Tiasha I was in the throws of full denial of my true self. I spent most of my energy trying to be a heterosexual woman, when in fact the best I could do was identify as ex-gay. I loved the joy and freedom that I found in Tiasha. I didn't know what to make of her having a male body, and I didn't have any names like transgender, mtf, or gender variant but I knew she was a woman to me no matter what anyone else said.
I wish I could say that I began my own exploration of my gender identity as a result of this, but that was yet to be a long time coming. When I did begin to chip away at my own self denial and wrestle with my own complicated gender identity, remembering Tiasha's story served both as a comfort and as a caution to me. The comfort was that I could know joy and freedom in who I am no matter who I am. The caution was that there are many many people who wouldn't understand and who wouldn't even try to understand.
For me, Tiasha is a stellar loving example of living life to the fullest and being as authentic as possible. Those who called her a life a lie break my heart.
Today I honor Tiasha for being who she was in every way. She is now one of the beautiful ancestors.
Nineteen years ago I met a beautiful woman who was funny, kind, and hard-working. I'll call her Tiasha. She worked for an organization at which I periodically volunteered. I also had a friend who worked for this organization. I'll call him Kevin.
Kevin identified as a straight white man. Tiasha identified as a straight black woman. I identified as an ex-gay white woman.
I didn't know Tiasha very well, but when I would call to talk to Kevin she was always quick to recognize me and to tease me lovingly saying that I had a sultry voice. I couldn't hear what she heard, but I loved that she was so easy-going and playful. Kevin seemed to enjoy working with her and spoke of her with some frequency. In our conversations I learned that she was periodically ill, more than seemed average.
I volunteered for this organization for about three years. It was in that third that Kevin called me in shock. Tiasha had died suddenly. Furthermore, he said, Tiasha wasn't Tiasha but actually was Norman. Kevin then said, "Norman died of AIDS."
I questioned why he was suddenly calling Tiasha he and Norman. Kevin said that Tiasha was a lie and that Norman was the truth. He wouldn't call Norman she or Tiasha. My heart sunk. I had no words to help me express what I was thinking, feeling, or reacting to. I had noone to help me think through this complicated scenario. Kevin seemed to think it was very simple. I knew that it wasn't.
Tiasha was Tiasha. I honestly believed, and still believe, that in most ways, I didn't know Norman. I had never met him. I had met and worked alongside Tiasha. She was great. I didn't feel betrayed, although I did feel sad.
First, I felt sad because this vibrant wonderful woman was suddenly dead.
Second, her family took her body and had a private funeral for "him." I asked about a memorial service for her and was told there wouldn't be one.
Third, she had AIDS. All those times she was sick and we didn't know why. For the more ignorant and paranoid, they thought she might have given them AIDS just by her presence with them. They were angry that she hadn't told them because they thought they had the right to protect themselves. Even then I knew that was ridiculous.
Fourth, she was being referred to now as he. How could they do that? Tiasha was clearly a woman. Even though the shape of her body was a surprise to us, what did it matter? It didn't change who she had been to us. The words that I heard them say about her prompted me to not volunteer there anymore.
At the time I was aware that some people had sex changes. As a young adult I had some interest in having a sex change, but for many reasons I didn't follow through. When I met Tiasha I was in the throws of full denial of my true self. I spent most of my energy trying to be a heterosexual woman, when in fact the best I could do was identify as ex-gay. I loved the joy and freedom that I found in Tiasha. I didn't know what to make of her having a male body, and I didn't have any names like transgender, mtf, or gender variant but I knew she was a woman to me no matter what anyone else said.
I wish I could say that I began my own exploration of my gender identity as a result of this, but that was yet to be a long time coming. When I did begin to chip away at my own self denial and wrestle with my own complicated gender identity, remembering Tiasha's story served both as a comfort and as a caution to me. The comfort was that I could know joy and freedom in who I am no matter who I am. The caution was that there are many many people who wouldn't understand and who wouldn't even try to understand.
For me, Tiasha is a stellar loving example of living life to the fullest and being as authentic as possible. Those who called her a life a lie break my heart.
Today I honor Tiasha for being who she was in every way. She is now one of the beautiful ancestors.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Fabulous Super Hero
Texts: Ephesians 6:10 – 18
and
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."
from A Return to Love, by Marianne Williamson.
************************
We are between two holidays – Past is the mixed bag of Halloween, All Saints Day, and Day of the Dead. Ahead is Thanksgiving. The transition between these two holidays has been powerful for me this year. I keep connecting my thoughts of those who have made an impact on my life and have died, as I prepare myself internally for the upcoming harvest celebration. Maybe a part of this is because my mother died on Thanksgiving day. However, I think that more than that I am being influenced by what I am reading and the stories that people are telling me about their lives.
Thanksgiving, if we think of it as a harvest celebration from ancient times rather than an American holiday of dubious distinction, is a celebration of hope to get through the winter and gratitude to the earth and/or a deity for providing the sustenance.
All Saints Day is a time of honoring those who have died. It is a time of grieving but also of celebrating. We celebrate the impact that these people have had on our lives, how we have been nurtured by them and continue to be nurtured through their memories. In a way, this is another kind of harvest celebration. It is the harvest of a person's life feeding us and nurturing us.
For example, recently I found out that my friend Iyvie died this spring. She was not someone I knew for many years. We weren't close in the way that you hang out with someone. And I found out she died through a Google search. When examining these kinds of facts, one might say that she and I were not close. And yet, for the time that we were in each other's lives, which was brief and fairly isolated, we had an influence on each other. The influence that I had on her is hers to tell, but the influence she had on me, I can tell you, is profound. She helped me become strong and certain that I had gifts to share. She mentored my gifts of healing and she exuded an undeniable love that wasn't labeled Christian that I had to deal with. It was spirit love ... and at first I was suspect of her ways. Slowly though I came to put together the lesson from Matthew 7:15 – 20
"Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves. You will know them by their fruits. Are grapes gathered from thorns, or figs from thistles? In the same way, every good tree bears good fruit, but the bad tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a bad tree bear good fruit. Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. Thus you will know them by their fruits. “
... with Galatians 5:22 and 23 "The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control."
I looked closely at Iyvie's loving healing energies and incredibly accurate insight. I saw love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. She was a good tree producing good fruit. I had no reason not to eat the harvest of her love and healing. She walked in her power and she helped me learn to walk in mine. She also helped me deconstruct my narrow mindedness and judgmental attitude, although I'm not sure she knows she did that.
She produced a harvest that I am still enjoying. I can tell you stories of many others such as Anthony Hollins, Tom Douthett, my brother Rick, my mom Angie, and Glenn Walker. You can tell me of those in your life that have died but still nurture you today. I love these stories. Yes it is a sharing of grief but it is also a celebration relationship. These people have helped to make us who we are.
We have so much to be thankful for. Real things, and especially the loving people who have been in our lives. These people with whom we have shared our lives, however long and however deep, have changed us. There are lots of people who have influenced our lives in unhelpful, hurtful, and unloving ways. Too often these are the folks to whom we give our power and whose harvest we eat. I've had enough of that. I feel like I owe a debt to the good people in my life ... those whose trusted me, who put stock in me, and who cared for me. I want to live my life as a testimony to their love and to the abundance of their harvest that they offer me.
This is how I found myself mulling the text in Ephesians as well as the quote from Marianne Williamson. This power that we have been given as a gift from our Divine Beloved as well as the power that we have been bequeathed from those who have loved and nurtured us is challenging to tap into. We are told over and over that power equals things like money and authority over others. These voices crowd the voices of the Holy Spirit, the teachings of Jesus, and the love of the saints. I believe we have to learn to walk in our power and we have to be diligent about protecting ourselves from the forces that would scoff at us or try to redirect our attention to the things that we can't do rather than to the awesomeness of who we are.
We are awesome. We have powers that are more permanent and effective than money and authority. When we own this, we frighten those who want to make us believe that the fruits of the spirit are wimpy. The image of the armor of God reminds us that we are powerful and that we have something to protect. We have a harvest to share that is delicious, robust, and life-giving. I agree with Marianne Williamson that "As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others." It is little by little. We may not see any miracles happening ... no demons being delivered ... but little by little is how revolutions begin.
I believe we need to live into our fabulousness, our brilliance, our gorgeousness, and our talent. We need to do this because according to Psalm 139 we are "fearfully and wonderfully made." We are made by God. How much more fantastic can we be?? If we do not live in our power and awesomeness, then we are discrediting God because we are God's good creation.
How can this not be true? Would we be instructed to put on spiritual armor if there wasn't something to protect spiritually? Our hearts are to be protected by a breastplate of righteousness. Our minds are protected by the helmet of salvation. Our feet are protected as we journey by the gospel of peace, which we are charged to proclaim. We are given a shield of faith with which we are to protect ourselves from the fiery arrows of the enemy – arrows that want to penetrate our confidence with doubt, that want to mock our gifts, that seek to discredit our power. The only thing in this armor that seems missing to me are the tights, otherwise this is perfect spiritual superhero attire.
Every life that we touch can be a life that we help to heal and sustain. Every struggle that we come up against is an opportunity to sink a little deeper into the reality of who we are in our souls. We all have battles. We all become frustrated, angry, and hurt. And we all are created wonderfully by a God who loves us. Furthermore, we all have a harvest from which we can nourish ourselves and a spiritual armor that is crucial to our good work and spiritual health.
I know that I expect a lot of myself and I often don't meet my own expectations. I have to protect myself from my own criticism. I think we all do.
This year the harvest I am giving thanks for is the legacy of love and the nourishing gifts of belief and hope that we have been offered by those who love us – those who are living as well as those who have passed on. I know longer want us to be small and quiet. Let's honor the gifts we've been given by God and by those put in our paths who love us by finding our strengths, sharing our gifts, believing in ourselves, and protecting ourselves. We are brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous. I urge you to not shrink back. The world needs us.
and
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."
from A Return to Love, by Marianne Williamson.
************************
We are between two holidays – Past is the mixed bag of Halloween, All Saints Day, and Day of the Dead. Ahead is Thanksgiving. The transition between these two holidays has been powerful for me this year. I keep connecting my thoughts of those who have made an impact on my life and have died, as I prepare myself internally for the upcoming harvest celebration. Maybe a part of this is because my mother died on Thanksgiving day. However, I think that more than that I am being influenced by what I am reading and the stories that people are telling me about their lives.
Thanksgiving, if we think of it as a harvest celebration from ancient times rather than an American holiday of dubious distinction, is a celebration of hope to get through the winter and gratitude to the earth and/or a deity for providing the sustenance.
All Saints Day is a time of honoring those who have died. It is a time of grieving but also of celebrating. We celebrate the impact that these people have had on our lives, how we have been nurtured by them and continue to be nurtured through their memories. In a way, this is another kind of harvest celebration. It is the harvest of a person's life feeding us and nurturing us.
For example, recently I found out that my friend Iyvie died this spring. She was not someone I knew for many years. We weren't close in the way that you hang out with someone. And I found out she died through a Google search. When examining these kinds of facts, one might say that she and I were not close. And yet, for the time that we were in each other's lives, which was brief and fairly isolated, we had an influence on each other. The influence that I had on her is hers to tell, but the influence she had on me, I can tell you, is profound. She helped me become strong and certain that I had gifts to share. She mentored my gifts of healing and she exuded an undeniable love that wasn't labeled Christian that I had to deal with. It was spirit love ... and at first I was suspect of her ways. Slowly though I came to put together the lesson from Matthew 7:15 – 20
"Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves. You will know them by their fruits. Are grapes gathered from thorns, or figs from thistles? In the same way, every good tree bears good fruit, but the bad tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a bad tree bear good fruit. Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. Thus you will know them by their fruits. “
... with Galatians 5:22 and 23 "The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control."
I looked closely at Iyvie's loving healing energies and incredibly accurate insight. I saw love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. She was a good tree producing good fruit. I had no reason not to eat the harvest of her love and healing. She walked in her power and she helped me learn to walk in mine. She also helped me deconstruct my narrow mindedness and judgmental attitude, although I'm not sure she knows she did that.
She produced a harvest that I am still enjoying. I can tell you stories of many others such as Anthony Hollins, Tom Douthett, my brother Rick, my mom Angie, and Glenn Walker. You can tell me of those in your life that have died but still nurture you today. I love these stories. Yes it is a sharing of grief but it is also a celebration relationship. These people have helped to make us who we are.
We have so much to be thankful for. Real things, and especially the loving people who have been in our lives. These people with whom we have shared our lives, however long and however deep, have changed us. There are lots of people who have influenced our lives in unhelpful, hurtful, and unloving ways. Too often these are the folks to whom we give our power and whose harvest we eat. I've had enough of that. I feel like I owe a debt to the good people in my life ... those whose trusted me, who put stock in me, and who cared for me. I want to live my life as a testimony to their love and to the abundance of their harvest that they offer me.
This is how I found myself mulling the text in Ephesians as well as the quote from Marianne Williamson. This power that we have been given as a gift from our Divine Beloved as well as the power that we have been bequeathed from those who have loved and nurtured us is challenging to tap into. We are told over and over that power equals things like money and authority over others. These voices crowd the voices of the Holy Spirit, the teachings of Jesus, and the love of the saints. I believe we have to learn to walk in our power and we have to be diligent about protecting ourselves from the forces that would scoff at us or try to redirect our attention to the things that we can't do rather than to the awesomeness of who we are.
We are awesome. We have powers that are more permanent and effective than money and authority. When we own this, we frighten those who want to make us believe that the fruits of the spirit are wimpy. The image of the armor of God reminds us that we are powerful and that we have something to protect. We have a harvest to share that is delicious, robust, and life-giving. I agree with Marianne Williamson that "As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others." It is little by little. We may not see any miracles happening ... no demons being delivered ... but little by little is how revolutions begin.
I believe we need to live into our fabulousness, our brilliance, our gorgeousness, and our talent. We need to do this because according to Psalm 139 we are "fearfully and wonderfully made." We are made by God. How much more fantastic can we be?? If we do not live in our power and awesomeness, then we are discrediting God because we are God's good creation.
How can this not be true? Would we be instructed to put on spiritual armor if there wasn't something to protect spiritually? Our hearts are to be protected by a breastplate of righteousness. Our minds are protected by the helmet of salvation. Our feet are protected as we journey by the gospel of peace, which we are charged to proclaim. We are given a shield of faith with which we are to protect ourselves from the fiery arrows of the enemy – arrows that want to penetrate our confidence with doubt, that want to mock our gifts, that seek to discredit our power. The only thing in this armor that seems missing to me are the tights, otherwise this is perfect spiritual superhero attire.
Every life that we touch can be a life that we help to heal and sustain. Every struggle that we come up against is an opportunity to sink a little deeper into the reality of who we are in our souls. We all have battles. We all become frustrated, angry, and hurt. And we all are created wonderfully by a God who loves us. Furthermore, we all have a harvest from which we can nourish ourselves and a spiritual armor that is crucial to our good work and spiritual health.
I know that I expect a lot of myself and I often don't meet my own expectations. I have to protect myself from my own criticism. I think we all do.
This year the harvest I am giving thanks for is the legacy of love and the nourishing gifts of belief and hope that we have been offered by those who love us – those who are living as well as those who have passed on. I know longer want us to be small and quiet. Let's honor the gifts we've been given by God and by those put in our paths who love us by finding our strengths, sharing our gifts, believing in ourselves, and protecting ourselves. We are brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous. I urge you to not shrink back. The world needs us.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Sunday, October 03, 2010
LGBT Suicides
I am still absorbing the truth of the latest teen and young adult suicides. I know that they happen every day and that we seldom hear about them. I know that most of these young people are invisible to society, except for the bullying. Actually, the bullying itself is evidence of their being invisible ... invisible as valuable human beings.
This is a link to an interesting article. http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/04/us/04suicide.html I've been reading lots of articles lately about these suicides. They leave me wondering about the multitudes we don't hear about. They also leave me wondering about the families of these young people.
I have another wonder ... where are the lesbians who are being bullied and commit suicide? I know they are out there too.
If you are a young person and you are being bullied, there are resources for you. I will help you find them. Write to me here.
This is a link to an interesting article. http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/04/us/04suicide.html I've been reading lots of articles lately about these suicides. They leave me wondering about the multitudes we don't hear about. They also leave me wondering about the families of these young people.
I have another wonder ... where are the lesbians who are being bullied and commit suicide? I know they are out there too.
If you are a young person and you are being bullied, there are resources for you. I will help you find them. Write to me here.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Miles Donation Request
Send a minister to a conference???
The newly formed UCC GenderFold Action Alliance, of which I am the Steward of Spiritual Health, would like to send me to the 4th Annual Transgender Religious Leaders Summit. Here's the hitch ... we don't have much money.
Is there anyone here that would like to donate miles for me to go?
The newly formed UCC GenderFold Action Alliance, of which I am the Steward of Spiritual Health, would like to send me to the 4th Annual Transgender Religious Leaders Summit. Here's the hitch ... we don't have much money.
Is there anyone here that would like to donate miles for me to go?
Monday, September 20, 2010
Where's The Antidote?
I need to state for the record that religion can be toxic. All religions. All flavours. Everywhere. From the beginning of time. Toxic. Poisonous. Deadly.
Because I am a Christian minister, I will focus on Christianity in this post. That said, all religions - those whose god is ethereal and divine as well as those whose god is material and profane. Take that where you will.
Some of you may be thinking ... Oh pastor, did you just realize this? What happened to you today? Has the shine dulled on your optimism?
To this I answer ... I have known this for a long time. Nothing happened to me today. My optimism may or may not be dulled, but my hope stands firm. More on that later - probably. I don't really have a plan for this post - where I am going with it, how it will end, if there's a take-home.
For me, today was a decent day. Yesterday the church where I preached received me well. I heard via email that another church is looking forward to my upcoming visit. Later this week I have a conference call with the other Stewards of the newly formed UCC GenderFold Action Alliance. The church that I pastor had a wonderful time of fellowship and worship a couple sundays ago when we last met. While I have experienced the toxicity of religion in the past, right now I am drinking from a font of grace and love.
If only my life reflected the lives of all people everywhere. It doesn't, though. I know it doesn't because I am hearing the stories. These stories include:
Being excluded from ministry based on some immoral code of morality.
Being excluded from ministry because of minority status.
Being powered out of ministry because of not towing the party line.
Being afraid that those with authority to pull rank will do so based on their interpretation of what is holy and what isn't.
The list could go on, but you get the idea. And this list doesn't include the Koran burning Christians; the Thunder God Christians (Kill 'em all and let God sort 'em out); those who claim the name and moral code of a god that will gain them political clout; etc.
Isn't religion supposed to be about love? I remember a couple years ago some guy commenting on a post of mine that Jesus' message wasn't all about love, soft and mushy, but that it was about punishment and condemnation. This guy was right in a way. Jesus spoke of condemnation and judgment, but it was of those who wouldn't extend help to the poor and sick; to those who were against healing a person's physical body or delivering them from demons on the sabbath; to those who used religious power to gain political or financial power.
Power. I think that's what this is all about. Power. This may seem obvious, but obvious things need to be stated sometimes. Stated and opposed.
It's not that I think my blogging this is going to change the world, change religious structures, or change the problems that my friends(and others) are having. I wish it would, but, well, I don't have that kind of power. I do, however, have the power to hear these hard stories and to help tell these hard stories so that others will hear them. Not enough people know or believe that these kinds of things really happen in the world, let alone in the church.
They happen.
People are excluded.
Good people.
Holy people.
Gifted ministers.
Called by the Divine Beloved.
And I am angry about it - sick of it. I am so angry that expletives are almost making their way into this post. I do swear in person, but I don't in my online writing. If I thought it would help, I would give in and use words of a blue nature. I don't think it will help. I don't think they are particularly persuasive words. But ... I am that angry.
Last Friday I went to a holy gathering. It wasn't church. It wasn't Christian. But it was spiritual and holy. In the course of our conversation we talked about Poison Ivy. Someone said that usually Jewelweed, an antidote for Poison Ivy, is only a few feet away. We talked about how often this is true in general, that an antidote is close but that we don't know what it is, what it looks like, or where to find it.
As I've said, I am a Christian minister. I love God, I think worshiping in community can be a beautiful and life-giving experience, and I have spent my whole life being devoted to seeking that which is and who is divine. During the course of my life I have stepped into the poisonous patches of religion and watched others struggle with being infected as well. It has been tempting to leave ... to quit ... to turn my back on it all, on the whole forest because it seems like the poison is taking over. In some patches of the forest it is taking over. That's the sad truth. Parts of the forest are all poison. I have begun to walk away more than once, but I can't. The beauty, the true beauty of the forest compels me to stay.
As I watch my friends and listen to their stories, I see the poison growing up the trees and spreading as a ground cover. I am looking for the Jewelweed. I am wondering if I am the Jewelweed. How I want to be! I think sometimes I am. But how does it work?
Well, according to http://www.altnature.com/jewelweed.htm:
"When you are out in the field and find you have been exposed to poison ivy, oak, or stinging nettle you can reach for the jewelweed plant and slice the stem, then rub its juicy inside on exposed parts. This will promptly ease irritation and usually prevents breakout for most people."
So, it seems I need to be willing to be cut open. The fluid which flows in me (you mean, like my blood?) needs to be rubbed on the affected areas of the person who was poisoned.
Not a gentle touch by me, not just gazing in my general direction, but I need to be broken open if I want to be an antidote. As a human, there are lots of ways to be broken open. Sometimes just being present is being broken open, but being present in an intentional, purposeful, and vulnerable way ... not simply hanging around.
It is an easy jump to bring up the metaphor of Jesus being broken open as an antidote, and yes, I could make a sermon out of that. Someday I might. But right now, I'm thinking about those in the church today who call themselves people of faith, people who I would say are anointed of the Holy Spirit to fulfill the call of Christ in this world. We need to be the antidote, not the poison. We need to be there, close to the poison so that we are available. We need to be accessible and ready. We need to be willing.
This isn't an altar call. I'm not going to end by asking "who is with me?" I'm grieving and I'm angry. I'm thinking out loud. What's happening isn't enough. It will never be enough. Nothing, so far, has been enough. Jesus wasn't enough, why should I think I will be. And yet, Jesus went all the way. He knew there would be more work. He knew he was asking a lot of those who said they were his disciples. And he talked about the poison and the antidote growing side by side.
I have dedicated myself to partnering with Jesus, to being guided by his teachings and his spirit, and to live humbly and powerfully. So, now I want to be a Jewelweed.
Because I am a Christian minister, I will focus on Christianity in this post. That said, all religions - those whose god is ethereal and divine as well as those whose god is material and profane. Take that where you will.
Some of you may be thinking ... Oh pastor, did you just realize this? What happened to you today? Has the shine dulled on your optimism?
To this I answer ... I have known this for a long time. Nothing happened to me today. My optimism may or may not be dulled, but my hope stands firm. More on that later - probably. I don't really have a plan for this post - where I am going with it, how it will end, if there's a take-home.
For me, today was a decent day. Yesterday the church where I preached received me well. I heard via email that another church is looking forward to my upcoming visit. Later this week I have a conference call with the other Stewards of the newly formed UCC GenderFold Action Alliance. The church that I pastor had a wonderful time of fellowship and worship a couple sundays ago when we last met. While I have experienced the toxicity of religion in the past, right now I am drinking from a font of grace and love.
If only my life reflected the lives of all people everywhere. It doesn't, though. I know it doesn't because I am hearing the stories. These stories include:
Being excluded from ministry based on some immoral code of morality.
Being excluded from ministry because of minority status.
Being powered out of ministry because of not towing the party line.
Being afraid that those with authority to pull rank will do so based on their interpretation of what is holy and what isn't.
The list could go on, but you get the idea. And this list doesn't include the Koran burning Christians; the Thunder God Christians (Kill 'em all and let God sort 'em out); those who claim the name and moral code of a god that will gain them political clout; etc.
Isn't religion supposed to be about love? I remember a couple years ago some guy commenting on a post of mine that Jesus' message wasn't all about love, soft and mushy, but that it was about punishment and condemnation. This guy was right in a way. Jesus spoke of condemnation and judgment, but it was of those who wouldn't extend help to the poor and sick; to those who were against healing a person's physical body or delivering them from demons on the sabbath; to those who used religious power to gain political or financial power.
Power. I think that's what this is all about. Power. This may seem obvious, but obvious things need to be stated sometimes. Stated and opposed.
It's not that I think my blogging this is going to change the world, change religious structures, or change the problems that my friends(and others) are having. I wish it would, but, well, I don't have that kind of power. I do, however, have the power to hear these hard stories and to help tell these hard stories so that others will hear them. Not enough people know or believe that these kinds of things really happen in the world, let alone in the church.
They happen.
People are excluded.
Good people.
Holy people.
Gifted ministers.
Called by the Divine Beloved.
And I am angry about it - sick of it. I am so angry that expletives are almost making their way into this post. I do swear in person, but I don't in my online writing. If I thought it would help, I would give in and use words of a blue nature. I don't think it will help. I don't think they are particularly persuasive words. But ... I am that angry.
Last Friday I went to a holy gathering. It wasn't church. It wasn't Christian. But it was spiritual and holy. In the course of our conversation we talked about Poison Ivy. Someone said that usually Jewelweed, an antidote for Poison Ivy, is only a few feet away. We talked about how often this is true in general, that an antidote is close but that we don't know what it is, what it looks like, or where to find it.
As I've said, I am a Christian minister. I love God, I think worshiping in community can be a beautiful and life-giving experience, and I have spent my whole life being devoted to seeking that which is and who is divine. During the course of my life I have stepped into the poisonous patches of religion and watched others struggle with being infected as well. It has been tempting to leave ... to quit ... to turn my back on it all, on the whole forest because it seems like the poison is taking over. In some patches of the forest it is taking over. That's the sad truth. Parts of the forest are all poison. I have begun to walk away more than once, but I can't. The beauty, the true beauty of the forest compels me to stay.
As I watch my friends and listen to their stories, I see the poison growing up the trees and spreading as a ground cover. I am looking for the Jewelweed. I am wondering if I am the Jewelweed. How I want to be! I think sometimes I am. But how does it work?
Well, according to http://www.altnature.com/jewelweed.htm:
"When you are out in the field and find you have been exposed to poison ivy, oak, or stinging nettle you can reach for the jewelweed plant and slice the stem, then rub its juicy inside on exposed parts. This will promptly ease irritation and usually prevents breakout for most people."
So, it seems I need to be willing to be cut open. The fluid which flows in me (you mean, like my blood?) needs to be rubbed on the affected areas of the person who was poisoned.
Not a gentle touch by me, not just gazing in my general direction, but I need to be broken open if I want to be an antidote. As a human, there are lots of ways to be broken open. Sometimes just being present is being broken open, but being present in an intentional, purposeful, and vulnerable way ... not simply hanging around.
It is an easy jump to bring up the metaphor of Jesus being broken open as an antidote, and yes, I could make a sermon out of that. Someday I might. But right now, I'm thinking about those in the church today who call themselves people of faith, people who I would say are anointed of the Holy Spirit to fulfill the call of Christ in this world. We need to be the antidote, not the poison. We need to be there, close to the poison so that we are available. We need to be accessible and ready. We need to be willing.
This isn't an altar call. I'm not going to end by asking "who is with me?" I'm grieving and I'm angry. I'm thinking out loud. What's happening isn't enough. It will never be enough. Nothing, so far, has been enough. Jesus wasn't enough, why should I think I will be. And yet, Jesus went all the way. He knew there would be more work. He knew he was asking a lot of those who said they were his disciples. And he talked about the poison and the antidote growing side by side.
I have dedicated myself to partnering with Jesus, to being guided by his teachings and his spirit, and to live humbly and powerfully. So, now I want to be a Jewelweed.
Sunday, September 05, 2010
How Many Ways Are There To Sing A Song?
Below are four versions of the song, Leaning On The Everlasting Arms. I love this song and admittedly I chose four versions that I like out of the many many versions available on YouTube.
Everlasting Arms has been playing in my head for the last few weeks. The idea of leaning on the arms of Jesus is a wonderful way for me to feel comforted and strengthened. Singing this song helps my soul to remember that I need to trust, breathe, focus, and allow myself to hope.
Since I began checking out the YouTube videos of this song I have found a new inspiration. It is the inspiration that I feel from many voices saying (or singing) the same thing but doing it in their own way. At first I began searching for the song that I knew ... the version that I knew. I never did find it. What I did find was a whole lot of people doing the same thing differently.
How many ways are there to sing a song? How many ways are there to live a life? How many ways are there to follow a path of faith? How many ways are there to be you?
Sometimes I think it is easy to slip into a template of how we are ourselves. We can put ourselves into a box just as easily as we put others in a box. The "I can'ts" and "This is just what I do" lines that we tell ourselves can be replaced with, "What if I tried it this way?"
There are many valid, holy, and wonderful ways to be. Keep leaning ... keep loving ... and keep your soul flexible ...
Everlasting Arms has been playing in my head for the last few weeks. The idea of leaning on the arms of Jesus is a wonderful way for me to feel comforted and strengthened. Singing this song helps my soul to remember that I need to trust, breathe, focus, and allow myself to hope.
Since I began checking out the YouTube videos of this song I have found a new inspiration. It is the inspiration that I feel from many voices saying (or singing) the same thing but doing it in their own way. At first I began searching for the song that I knew ... the version that I knew. I never did find it. What I did find was a whole lot of people doing the same thing differently.
How many ways are there to sing a song? How many ways are there to live a life? How many ways are there to follow a path of faith? How many ways are there to be you?
Sometimes I think it is easy to slip into a template of how we are ourselves. We can put ourselves into a box just as easily as we put others in a box. The "I can'ts" and "This is just what I do" lines that we tell ourselves can be replaced with, "What if I tried it this way?"
There are many valid, holy, and wonderful ways to be. Keep leaning ... keep loving ... and keep your soul flexible ...
Friday, August 27, 2010
Now I know only in part
The days are becoming a little more noticeably shorter. There is an abundance of vegetables and herbs at my local CSA. Squirrels are running around hiding nuts in the ground. There is a coolness to the air at night.
Along with all these things that I am noticing, there is something that I don't notice but that I am told is happening. The colour of the light is different as is its angle. These are details that I miss. I believe those who agree that this is so, but I don't see it or sense it.
What is it about who I am, how my brain works, or how I understand the world that keeps me from seeing/sensing this shift in light? I don't know. I can smell the difference between summer and fall. I can feel the difference in the air. But how the light changes is not within my perception. Apparently it is there to be seen and sensed, but it is not within my grasp.
It makes me wonder what else is right there ... right in front of my eyes ... right in front of my spirit ... that I do not perceive.
We go through our lives seemingly seeing what other people see, hearing what other people hear, and perceiving what other people perceive. While I do believe there is a kind of universality of experience, it seems more and more clear to me that we each have our own unique slant - some things we experience with greater intensity and some with less. Some things have a great impact on us and other things not much at all.
The smell of summer is different to me than the smell of fall. This has a greater impact on me and it is in my conscious mind. The look of the light, though, does not register to me consciously. I'm sure it has an impact on me, but I do not know what it is.
What is it that we perceive differently, you and I? How do we understand God differently or the Bible? What is an act of kindness, a gesture of generosity, or curt remark. How do we really know that we are seeing and sensing everything that is in front of us?
We don't know. There is so much happening that we miss. And there is so much happening that is important to us or that impacts us strongly that others miss. When we are gliding through our day, do we assume that we are seeing everything that others see and that others see what we see? Do we base our reactions to what someone says, how they say it, or the look on their face as if we understand them completely? Do we read the Bible or hear God's voice and believe that we totally get it or that we don't get it at all?
Complete understanding or complete ignorance are either/or equations that I believe keep us from understanding fully the part of whatever it is we do understand. I also believe it keeps us from hearing the understanding and experience that others have. While I would love to see the change of light that I've been told is happening, I also am gaining an appreciation that there is a mystery that I cannot hold that others can. I have to rely on the experience of others to gain a more full understanding of life, love, and God.
The more we are willing to relax at the notion that we don't see it all, hear it all, perceive it all, or understand it all, the more we need to relax at the notion that we need one another to fully live into the beauty and mystery of this life.
1 Corinthians 13:4-13 NRSV
4 Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant 5 or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; 6 it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. 7 It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. 8 Love never ends. But as for prophecies, they will come to an end; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will come to an end. 9 For we know only in part, and we prophesy only in part; 10 but when the complete comes, the partial will come to an end. 11 When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways. 12 For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. 13 And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.
Along with all these things that I am noticing, there is something that I don't notice but that I am told is happening. The colour of the light is different as is its angle. These are details that I miss. I believe those who agree that this is so, but I don't see it or sense it.
What is it about who I am, how my brain works, or how I understand the world that keeps me from seeing/sensing this shift in light? I don't know. I can smell the difference between summer and fall. I can feel the difference in the air. But how the light changes is not within my perception. Apparently it is there to be seen and sensed, but it is not within my grasp.
It makes me wonder what else is right there ... right in front of my eyes ... right in front of my spirit ... that I do not perceive.
We go through our lives seemingly seeing what other people see, hearing what other people hear, and perceiving what other people perceive. While I do believe there is a kind of universality of experience, it seems more and more clear to me that we each have our own unique slant - some things we experience with greater intensity and some with less. Some things have a great impact on us and other things not much at all.
The smell of summer is different to me than the smell of fall. This has a greater impact on me and it is in my conscious mind. The look of the light, though, does not register to me consciously. I'm sure it has an impact on me, but I do not know what it is.
What is it that we perceive differently, you and I? How do we understand God differently or the Bible? What is an act of kindness, a gesture of generosity, or curt remark. How do we really know that we are seeing and sensing everything that is in front of us?
We don't know. There is so much happening that we miss. And there is so much happening that is important to us or that impacts us strongly that others miss. When we are gliding through our day, do we assume that we are seeing everything that others see and that others see what we see? Do we base our reactions to what someone says, how they say it, or the look on their face as if we understand them completely? Do we read the Bible or hear God's voice and believe that we totally get it or that we don't get it at all?
Complete understanding or complete ignorance are either/or equations that I believe keep us from understanding fully the part of whatever it is we do understand. I also believe it keeps us from hearing the understanding and experience that others have. While I would love to see the change of light that I've been told is happening, I also am gaining an appreciation that there is a mystery that I cannot hold that others can. I have to rely on the experience of others to gain a more full understanding of life, love, and God.
The more we are willing to relax at the notion that we don't see it all, hear it all, perceive it all, or understand it all, the more we need to relax at the notion that we need one another to fully live into the beauty and mystery of this life.
1 Corinthians 13:4-13 NRSV
4 Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant 5 or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; 6 it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. 7 It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. 8 Love never ends. But as for prophecies, they will come to an end; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will come to an end. 9 For we know only in part, and we prophesy only in part; 10 but when the complete comes, the partial will come to an end. 11 When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways. 12 For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. 13 And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
A Change in The Force
I found out that a friend of mine died March 28, 2010. I think it has been about two weeks that I've known. I found out because I looked her up online and her obituary popped up. Her obituary.
Her name is Iyvie. Her professional bio reads,
"Seiki Attunement, shiatsu, reiki, conscious medium/intuitive spiritual consultant. Trained & cert. by D. Cannon as past life regressionist & Dr. E. Pearl for Reconnective Healing & The Reconnection. Aura/chakra live photo & biofeedback analysis."
Iyvie and I were friends. We were connected. We vibrated together. We also hadn't seen each other for 5 years since she moved to the island of Kailua-Kona. We spoke by phone for the next year or so, but then we lapsed in our tangible communication. I looked her up online to see where she was speaking or what new certificate she earned. For the last year I didn't see much about her though. I was worried. I didn't call. I don't think I was supposed to.
I knew she was sick. She hadn't told me, but I knew. I also knew that she didn't want people making a fuss. She died of cancer. One of the obits reads that she died, "after a brave fight with cancer." That's a pretty common turn of phrase. It is applied to many people but means something different for every one of them.
I don't know if it helped, but every time I thought of her, which was far more than I ever expressed, I sent her my love and my breath, my pulse and my consciousness.
It is because of Ivyie that I began doing energy healing.
It is because of Iyvie that I learned that the fruit of the Holy Spirit grows on trees outside of the orchard of Jesus.
It is because of Iyvie that I began to trust my own power.
It is because of Iyvie that I began to understand the Divine to be not separate from creation, but vibrating within creation.
It is because of Iyvie that I began to see The Spheres of Being and create a theory around The Spheres, vibrations, our interconnectedness with each other and The Holy.
It is because of Iyvie that I understand myself to have a shamanic gift.
I so enjoyed knowing that she was in Kailua-Kona, breathing, loving, and being her amazing self. I am sad that she is no longer vibrating in her body. I know that I grieve for the future, though, not the past. I had a hope that someday I would visit her there. I hoped that I would look into her eyes again, feel her vibrations again, and maybe even once again feel the power of her work. When she worked on me I saw visions and cried. Amazing visions. Tears that came from the core of my soul. Tears that were shed not because of an emotion but because of the intensity of being.
I hoped that I would have the opportunity to share my power with her as it has become shaped and more fully conscious in me. I wanted to give back to her something that I couldn't give to her then. She told me that God was strong in me and that I had to follow my path. She told me that she used the word God because that was how I understood it, but that for her it wasn't God. It was me and love and ... so much beyond words. She taught me to feel my own vibrations. I wanted to share with her my consciousness.
I did share with her my consciousness. I just didn't do it face to face.
I am so very sad, but I am not lost in the sadness. I am living in it. I am holding it, breathing it, and loving it.
And I am dancing with my sadness. Iyvie was a dancer. As her obituary reads,
"Iyvie was an accomplished ballerina. She danced and taught ballet professionally for several years with the Ruth Page Dance Company of Chicago and George Balanchine, and the New York City Ballet. She performed the lead role in the Nutcracker ballet in Chicago for several years."
Dancing with my sadness makes the most sense. The dance is physical, but not just physical. It is energetic, emotional, spiritual, and intellectual. So I am dancing ... and crying ... and laughing ... remembering ... and mostly, I am vibrating and breathing in gratefulness.
Her name is Iyvie. Her professional bio reads,
"Seiki Attunement, shiatsu, reiki, conscious medium/intuitive spiritual consultant. Trained & cert. by D. Cannon as past life regressionist & Dr. E. Pearl for Reconnective Healing & The Reconnection. Aura/chakra live photo & biofeedback analysis."
Iyvie and I were friends. We were connected. We vibrated together. We also hadn't seen each other for 5 years since she moved to the island of Kailua-Kona. We spoke by phone for the next year or so, but then we lapsed in our tangible communication. I looked her up online to see where she was speaking or what new certificate she earned. For the last year I didn't see much about her though. I was worried. I didn't call. I don't think I was supposed to.
I knew she was sick. She hadn't told me, but I knew. I also knew that she didn't want people making a fuss. She died of cancer. One of the obits reads that she died, "after a brave fight with cancer." That's a pretty common turn of phrase. It is applied to many people but means something different for every one of them.
I don't know if it helped, but every time I thought of her, which was far more than I ever expressed, I sent her my love and my breath, my pulse and my consciousness.
It is because of Ivyie that I began doing energy healing.
It is because of Iyvie that I learned that the fruit of the Holy Spirit grows on trees outside of the orchard of Jesus.
It is because of Iyvie that I began to trust my own power.
It is because of Iyvie that I began to understand the Divine to be not separate from creation, but vibrating within creation.
It is because of Iyvie that I began to see The Spheres of Being and create a theory around The Spheres, vibrations, our interconnectedness with each other and The Holy.
It is because of Iyvie that I understand myself to have a shamanic gift.
I so enjoyed knowing that she was in Kailua-Kona, breathing, loving, and being her amazing self. I am sad that she is no longer vibrating in her body. I know that I grieve for the future, though, not the past. I had a hope that someday I would visit her there. I hoped that I would look into her eyes again, feel her vibrations again, and maybe even once again feel the power of her work. When she worked on me I saw visions and cried. Amazing visions. Tears that came from the core of my soul. Tears that were shed not because of an emotion but because of the intensity of being.
I hoped that I would have the opportunity to share my power with her as it has become shaped and more fully conscious in me. I wanted to give back to her something that I couldn't give to her then. She told me that God was strong in me and that I had to follow my path. She told me that she used the word God because that was how I understood it, but that for her it wasn't God. It was me and love and ... so much beyond words. She taught me to feel my own vibrations. I wanted to share with her my consciousness.
I did share with her my consciousness. I just didn't do it face to face.
I am so very sad, but I am not lost in the sadness. I am living in it. I am holding it, breathing it, and loving it.
And I am dancing with my sadness. Iyvie was a dancer. As her obituary reads,
"Iyvie was an accomplished ballerina. She danced and taught ballet professionally for several years with the Ruth Page Dance Company of Chicago and George Balanchine, and the New York City Ballet. She performed the lead role in the Nutcracker ballet in Chicago for several years."
Dancing with my sadness makes the most sense. The dance is physical, but not just physical. It is energetic, emotional, spiritual, and intellectual. So I am dancing ... and crying ... and laughing ... remembering ... and mostly, I am vibrating and breathing in gratefulness.
Sunday, July 04, 2010
With Liberty and Justice for All
Texts: Exodus 23:1 – 12 and John 10:9 – 16
Today is July 4th, a national holiday when the United States celebrates our independence from a system of government that was oppressive. While our history as a nation is far from unblemished when it comes to oppression – past and current – the tenets of our national creeds can help guide us toward true equality with the hopeful result of liberty and justice for all.
I am not here today to preach to you on the tenets of our national creeds though, because along with this being July 4th, it is also Sunday, a religious holiday for us Christians to celebrate our interdependence with our God and with each other. The notion of liberty and justice for all is a core message of our sacred scriptures. Over and over we read that God is displeased with the people when they neglect widows, orphans, and the resident alien in their midst. We also read that our motivation for not oppressing the poor, the isolated, and the resident aliens in our midst should be because we were once enslaved aliens in the land of Egypt. When we remember how God redeemed us from our poverty, our isolation, and our oppression we should be moved to pity and mercy on those who are in similar situations in our midst.
The God of Israel repeats this concern for the widow, the poor, the orphans, and the resident alien in book after book of our sacred text. And yet so many who call themselves Christian are more concerned with social morality than with social equality. The message is clear though – even if you don't like someone, you need to treat them as equals. We need to make sure that people have food and shelter. We need to make sure that justice is upheld; that the marginalized are not overlooked; and that everyone gets to rest.
Jesus' ministry reflects these values. Time and time again he heals, he feeds, and he sets free all persons, from whatever rank, social status, or nationality they are. In the passage from the Gospel of John, Jesus declares himself the good shepherd. He tells us, "I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly." Lots and lots of life!! Abundance of life!!
Jesus also says, "I know my own and my own know me," which sounds like this abundance of life is for a select group of folks, that is until he finishes his thought ... "I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also." He doesn't explain who these other sheep are, where they will come from, or what they will look like. We know nothing except there are other sheep in other folds that belong to Jesus.
One of my favourite teachings in the gospels comes from both Mark and Luke. It says, "whoever is not against us is for us."
The old testament scriptures which talk about taking care of the widows, the orphans, the poor, and the resident aliens do not require any kind of statement of faith from them or any kind of moral fiber as deemed by the provider. The directive given is to let them eat, let them rest, and let them live equally ... without distortion of their wages, their goods, or their services. There is no blame in Deuteronomy or Exodus for poverty. There is only the command that enough is left behind in the fields for folks who need to eat to be able to do so. There are also commands to not take advantage of someone because they don't have the money to pay for a lawyer or because they are foreign to the culture and don't know our ways.
While our official national creeds use words like "all men are created equal" and "liberty and justice for all," our unspoken cultural norms and expectations include phrases like, "if it is to be it is up to me" and "if you work hard enough you will be rewarded." These ideas that poverty is blamed on the poor and that if you don't look and sound like the popular majority you must be suspicious creeps into how we read the Bible and hear the message of Jesus. If we focus on our own sheepfold then we become suspicious of other sheepfolds. But Jesus came that ALL would have abundant life. The earlier teachings of letting the poor reap from what was left in the fields is replaced by the teaching that ALL should share in abundant life.
That's risky, isn't it? It's one thing to give your spare change to the beggar on the street or to donate to a not-for-profit knowing that you will get to declare it at tax time and another thing completely to image that same beggar living in a beautiful house and that not-for-profit having enough resources to do whatever they do with ease. But that's what I think we should imagine. Life abundant for everyone!
I have this crazy idea that if everyone had enough and if everyone was respected and celebrated for who they are then crime would decrease, sadness would decrease, productivity would increase, communities would grow closer and engage each other across boundaries of difference, and … God would be glorified. I believe this. I believe it fully and firmly.
We have to work like Jesus worked, not as a hired hand who will run away when things get scary, but as a shepherd who truly cares. Three times Jesus asks Peter if he loves him and when Peter says yes Jesus tells him to feed and tend his sheep. This story is in the Gospel of John, the 21st chapter, after Jesus' resurrection. Still, after his torture and execution, after his being descended three days and then rising from the dead, Jesus is concerned about his sheep being fed and tended.
We are one fold. There are other folds. I believe that we are the hands, feet, and heart of Christ in this world. We are given power to do what we must do by the Holy Spirit. And the works we do are from our foundation of faith and for the glory of God.
Today I ask you, do you love Jesus? Will you feed and tend his sheep? Will you remember and advocate for the poor and isolated, for the marginalized and oppressed. Are there gleanings from your field, whatever your field looks like, that you can leave behind for others? We have to be careful to correct those would say folks are stealing from us. It is important to speak up when someone warns us that we are being taken advantage and say plainly and with love for the sheep that we intentionally left for it whoever needed it.
We also must guard against thinking well of ourselves for doing good. It is for the love of Christ and the love of the sheep that we do what we do. It is also because we remember that once we were slaves in Egypt. That's harder. Especially for white people. People of colour remember very well the stories of their ancestor's enslavement. As a white person, I don't have that. My people have never endured the kind of cruel treatment that the Bible is asking me to call to memory as a motivation. The story of the Israelites in the land of Egypt is thousands of years past. I am detached from it by time even if by nothing else.
My motivation then, rather than conjuring up a memory that I don't really have, is solidarity. To be in solidarity one has to be in relationship with people. It's time consuming, energy consuming, and requires commitment. I'm working on it. I'm working on it because through the scriptures Jesus asked me if I love him and I said yes. Then he asked me if I would feed and tend to his sheep by offering the abundant life that I was given, and I said yes. Solidarity doesn't mean doing something for someone, it means doing something with someone. A hired hand isn't in solidarity with the sheep. A good shepherd is in solidarity with the sheep.
Do you love Jesus? Do you believe that this flock and the other flocks are equal and deserving of true justice and abundant life? Will you tend to the flocks as a shepherd?
Today is July 4th, a national holiday when the United States celebrates our independence from a system of government that was oppressive. While our history as a nation is far from unblemished when it comes to oppression – past and current – the tenets of our national creeds can help guide us toward true equality with the hopeful result of liberty and justice for all.
I am not here today to preach to you on the tenets of our national creeds though, because along with this being July 4th, it is also Sunday, a religious holiday for us Christians to celebrate our interdependence with our God and with each other. The notion of liberty and justice for all is a core message of our sacred scriptures. Over and over we read that God is displeased with the people when they neglect widows, orphans, and the resident alien in their midst. We also read that our motivation for not oppressing the poor, the isolated, and the resident aliens in our midst should be because we were once enslaved aliens in the land of Egypt. When we remember how God redeemed us from our poverty, our isolation, and our oppression we should be moved to pity and mercy on those who are in similar situations in our midst.
The God of Israel repeats this concern for the widow, the poor, the orphans, and the resident alien in book after book of our sacred text. And yet so many who call themselves Christian are more concerned with social morality than with social equality. The message is clear though – even if you don't like someone, you need to treat them as equals. We need to make sure that people have food and shelter. We need to make sure that justice is upheld; that the marginalized are not overlooked; and that everyone gets to rest.
Jesus' ministry reflects these values. Time and time again he heals, he feeds, and he sets free all persons, from whatever rank, social status, or nationality they are. In the passage from the Gospel of John, Jesus declares himself the good shepherd. He tells us, "I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly." Lots and lots of life!! Abundance of life!!
Jesus also says, "I know my own and my own know me," which sounds like this abundance of life is for a select group of folks, that is until he finishes his thought ... "I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also." He doesn't explain who these other sheep are, where they will come from, or what they will look like. We know nothing except there are other sheep in other folds that belong to Jesus.
One of my favourite teachings in the gospels comes from both Mark and Luke. It says, "whoever is not against us is for us."
The old testament scriptures which talk about taking care of the widows, the orphans, the poor, and the resident aliens do not require any kind of statement of faith from them or any kind of moral fiber as deemed by the provider. The directive given is to let them eat, let them rest, and let them live equally ... without distortion of their wages, their goods, or their services. There is no blame in Deuteronomy or Exodus for poverty. There is only the command that enough is left behind in the fields for folks who need to eat to be able to do so. There are also commands to not take advantage of someone because they don't have the money to pay for a lawyer or because they are foreign to the culture and don't know our ways.
While our official national creeds use words like "all men are created equal" and "liberty and justice for all," our unspoken cultural norms and expectations include phrases like, "if it is to be it is up to me" and "if you work hard enough you will be rewarded." These ideas that poverty is blamed on the poor and that if you don't look and sound like the popular majority you must be suspicious creeps into how we read the Bible and hear the message of Jesus. If we focus on our own sheepfold then we become suspicious of other sheepfolds. But Jesus came that ALL would have abundant life. The earlier teachings of letting the poor reap from what was left in the fields is replaced by the teaching that ALL should share in abundant life.
That's risky, isn't it? It's one thing to give your spare change to the beggar on the street or to donate to a not-for-profit knowing that you will get to declare it at tax time and another thing completely to image that same beggar living in a beautiful house and that not-for-profit having enough resources to do whatever they do with ease. But that's what I think we should imagine. Life abundant for everyone!
I have this crazy idea that if everyone had enough and if everyone was respected and celebrated for who they are then crime would decrease, sadness would decrease, productivity would increase, communities would grow closer and engage each other across boundaries of difference, and … God would be glorified. I believe this. I believe it fully and firmly.
We have to work like Jesus worked, not as a hired hand who will run away when things get scary, but as a shepherd who truly cares. Three times Jesus asks Peter if he loves him and when Peter says yes Jesus tells him to feed and tend his sheep. This story is in the Gospel of John, the 21st chapter, after Jesus' resurrection. Still, after his torture and execution, after his being descended three days and then rising from the dead, Jesus is concerned about his sheep being fed and tended.
We are one fold. There are other folds. I believe that we are the hands, feet, and heart of Christ in this world. We are given power to do what we must do by the Holy Spirit. And the works we do are from our foundation of faith and for the glory of God.
Today I ask you, do you love Jesus? Will you feed and tend his sheep? Will you remember and advocate for the poor and isolated, for the marginalized and oppressed. Are there gleanings from your field, whatever your field looks like, that you can leave behind for others? We have to be careful to correct those would say folks are stealing from us. It is important to speak up when someone warns us that we are being taken advantage and say plainly and with love for the sheep that we intentionally left for it whoever needed it.
We also must guard against thinking well of ourselves for doing good. It is for the love of Christ and the love of the sheep that we do what we do. It is also because we remember that once we were slaves in Egypt. That's harder. Especially for white people. People of colour remember very well the stories of their ancestor's enslavement. As a white person, I don't have that. My people have never endured the kind of cruel treatment that the Bible is asking me to call to memory as a motivation. The story of the Israelites in the land of Egypt is thousands of years past. I am detached from it by time even if by nothing else.
My motivation then, rather than conjuring up a memory that I don't really have, is solidarity. To be in solidarity one has to be in relationship with people. It's time consuming, energy consuming, and requires commitment. I'm working on it. I'm working on it because through the scriptures Jesus asked me if I love him and I said yes. Then he asked me if I would feed and tend to his sheep by offering the abundant life that I was given, and I said yes. Solidarity doesn't mean doing something for someone, it means doing something with someone. A hired hand isn't in solidarity with the sheep. A good shepherd is in solidarity with the sheep.
Do you love Jesus? Do you believe that this flock and the other flocks are equal and deserving of true justice and abundant life? Will you tend to the flocks as a shepherd?
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Sweet Sophia
Wisdom calls. Understanding raises her voice.
We hear Wisdom from on high, standing near, and at the intersection of our lives.
She is at the door and at the city limits, crying out.
We listen for her words of truth.
Wisdom tells us - Be in awe of God!
Our hearts know no other worthy of our praise.
Wisdom and happiness meet when we follow her ways.
We watch and wait daily for the sound of Wisdom’s voice.
Our ears tingle, our souls become alive, and our hearts find happiness.
We hear Wisdom from on high, standing near, and at the intersection of our lives.
She is at the door and at the city limits, crying out.
We listen for her words of truth.
Wisdom tells us - Be in awe of God!
Our hearts know no other worthy of our praise.
Wisdom and happiness meet when we follow her ways.
We watch and wait daily for the sound of Wisdom’s voice.
Our ears tingle, our souls become alive, and our hearts find happiness.
Tuesday, June 08, 2010
Research on Lesbian Experiences of Social Attitudes and Discrimination
This comes forwarded from a friend.
*************
... helping the scholars helps us, friends. Please take a minute to participate if you qualify.
Research Study Looking for Lesbian Women
Looking for lesbian women to participate in a research study examining social attitudes and experiences of discrimination.
Participation involves completion of an anonymous online questionnaire. Participants must:
-Self identify as a lesbian woman (i.e., not heterosexual or bisexual)
-Be 18 years or older
This survey is being conducted in two parts and is estimated to take you no longer than 15 minutes total to complete. At the end of part one you will be asked to provide your e-mail address in order to be contacted when it is time to complete part two. Because your email address will be collected in a separate survey, there will be no way for the researcher to associate your email address with the answers you provided to the other questions.
If you would like to participate, click on the following link. Alternatively you may copy the link and paste it in your web browser.
Link for LESBIAN women:
http://www.surveymonkey.com/s/BRIEFstudy
Regina Chopp may be reached at rchopp@gmu.edu or 530-219-5582 for questions or to report a research-related problem.
*************
... helping the scholars helps us, friends. Please take a minute to participate if you qualify.
Research Study Looking for Lesbian Women
Looking for lesbian women to participate in a research study examining social attitudes and experiences of discrimination.
Participation involves completion of an anonymous online questionnaire. Participants must:
-Self identify as a lesbian woman (i.e., not heterosexual or bisexual)
-Be 18 years or older
This survey is being conducted in two parts and is estimated to take you no longer than 15 minutes total to complete. At the end of part one you will be asked to provide your e-mail address in order to be contacted when it is time to complete part two. Because your email address will be collected in a separate survey, there will be no way for the researcher to associate your email address with the answers you provided to the other questions.
If you would like to participate, click on the following link. Alternatively you may copy the link and paste it in your web browser.
Link for LESBIAN women:
http://www.surveymonkey.com/s/BRIEFstudy
Regina Chopp may be reached at rchopp@gmu.edu or 530-219-5582 for questions or to report a research-related problem.
Monday, June 07, 2010
The Brown Boi Project leadership retreats
Worth the read to the bottom where it says, "if you are selected your travel, lodging, and food will be covered to attend the retreat in Oakland, CA from August 18th-22nd."
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The Brown Boi Project leadership retreats work to build leadership, economic self sufficiency, and health of young (35 and under) masculine of center* womyn, trans men, and straight/queer men of color-pipelining them into the social justice movement.
*Masculine of center (MOC) is a term coined that recognizes the breadth and depth of identity for lesbian/queer/ womyn who tilt toward the masculine side of the gender scale and includes a wide range of identities such as butch, stud, aggressive/AG, dom, etc. ©B. Cole 2008
During the 5-day training retreat you will have the opportunity to work across issues and communities, talk about race, class, culture, gender and sexuality, and explore whether the social justice sector might be the right place to help their community. Our retreats bring participants from across the country to experience an intensive introduction to community organizing while doing important personal leadership development.
We’re looking for people who are interested in deepening their path or career to include building power for communities of color. You will receive training in understanding power, communications, cross culture coalition building, personal finance, community organizing, conflict resolution, fundraising, relationship building, gender justice, and personal life planning. The program is open to participants from around the country and if you are selected your travel, lodging, and food will be covered to attend the retreat in Oakland, CA from August 18th-22nd.
To apply please complete our survey by June 11th at http://www.brownboiproject.org/brown_boi_project.html
**************************
The Brown Boi Project leadership retreats work to build leadership, economic self sufficiency, and health of young (35 and under) masculine of center* womyn, trans men, and straight/queer men of color-pipelining them into the social justice movement.
*Masculine of center (MOC) is a term coined that recognizes the breadth and depth of identity for lesbian/queer/ womyn who tilt toward the masculine side of the gender scale and includes a wide range of identities such as butch, stud, aggressive/AG, dom, etc. ©B. Cole 2008
During the 5-day training retreat you will have the opportunity to work across issues and communities, talk about race, class, culture, gender and sexuality, and explore whether the social justice sector might be the right place to help their community. Our retreats bring participants from across the country to experience an intensive introduction to community organizing while doing important personal leadership development.
We’re looking for people who are interested in deepening their path or career to include building power for communities of color. You will receive training in understanding power, communications, cross culture coalition building, personal finance, community organizing, conflict resolution, fundraising, relationship building, gender justice, and personal life planning. The program is open to participants from around the country and if you are selected your travel, lodging, and food will be covered to attend the retreat in Oakland, CA from August 18th-22nd.
To apply please complete our survey by June 11th at http://www.brownboiproject.org/brown_boi_project.html
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Chicago Coalition of Welcoming Churches needs your help
Pride in Chicago is coming soon. Chicago Coalition of Welcoming Churches (CCWC) could sure use some help both with planning our parade entry, organizing for the entry, and in running the entry on the day of the parade. If you can help, please comment here or get in touch with me at annmarie@chicagowelcomingchurches.org
Here's an announcement for a work day from Brent. Again, you can reply here or email at the above address. Thanks all.
***********************
Pride is quickly approaching and there are things to be organized for the parade to be a success. Next Saturday, June 5th at 2pm (advise if a later time is better) we will meet at the Coalition's storage locker,
Public Storage
5733 N. Broadway
Chicago, IL 60660
We will be doing the following:
-Inventory of congregation signs for the parade
-Identifying any church that needs a sign and communicating directly with them
-Inventory of other materials for the parade
(to include nuts & bolts for signs, magnets for banners on van)
-Checklist review of items needed for parade day
-Planning who to invite to help with particular tasks
-Brainstorming additional ways to make our entry in the parade more effective (music? chants? vehicle?)
Here's an announcement for a work day from Brent. Again, you can reply here or email at the above address. Thanks all.
***********************
Pride is quickly approaching and there are things to be organized for the parade to be a success. Next Saturday, June 5th at 2pm (advise if a later time is better) we will meet at the Coalition's storage locker,
Public Storage
5733 N. Broadway
Chicago, IL 60660
We will be doing the following:
-Inventory of congregation signs for the parade
-Identifying any church that needs a sign and communicating directly with them
-Inventory of other materials for the parade
(to include nuts & bolts for signs, magnets for banners on van)
-Checklist review of items needed for parade day
-Planning who to invite to help with particular tasks
-Brainstorming additional ways to make our entry in the parade more effective (music? chants? vehicle?)
Monday, May 24, 2010
Angie
Today my mother would have turned 72 years old. In honour of her birthday, I drank lots of coffee. Yes, I was fully caffeinated all day. Coffee was her beverage of choice until she last went to the hospital. She liked it with powder creamer because it didn't cool the coffee. Only burning hot coffee would do. As much as I love my mother, today was an ice coffee day for me. Sorry Mom. I think she'd be okay with that. She would think me crazy ... but she'd be okay with that too.
Here are a few things my mom taught me.
If you can make something fun, do it. For instance, polishing a newly waxed floor is hard work. Instead, have the kids polish the floor by donning their feet with old socks and letting them skate their hearts out.
It isn't cheaper to use a coupon if you spend more money in gas going to that special story than the worth of the coupon.
Cheap jewelry needs more special care than expensive jewelry. This was her dying lesson to me. I didn't understand her very well at first. It might have been the morphine that she was on, but it was probably my ignorance of jewelry. Finally I understood ... don't wash your hands while wearing your costume jewelry.
Take naps
Read fun books
Continue to be amazed at wonderful things, even if they grow ordinary. Be amazed for your whole life. Have you seen hundreds of deer in the backyard? Has that grown ordinary? It shouldn't. Having deer roam about in your backyard is nothing short of amazing.
Be kind as often as you can. Avoid gossip.
Sniff out a garage sale. Buy from second hand stores.
Trust God.
******* Happy Birthday, Mom!
Here are a few things my mom taught me.
If you can make something fun, do it. For instance, polishing a newly waxed floor is hard work. Instead, have the kids polish the floor by donning their feet with old socks and letting them skate their hearts out.
It isn't cheaper to use a coupon if you spend more money in gas going to that special story than the worth of the coupon.
Cheap jewelry needs more special care than expensive jewelry. This was her dying lesson to me. I didn't understand her very well at first. It might have been the morphine that she was on, but it was probably my ignorance of jewelry. Finally I understood ... don't wash your hands while wearing your costume jewelry.
Take naps
Read fun books
Continue to be amazed at wonderful things, even if they grow ordinary. Be amazed for your whole life. Have you seen hundreds of deer in the backyard? Has that grown ordinary? It shouldn't. Having deer roam about in your backyard is nothing short of amazing.
Be kind as often as you can. Avoid gossip.
Sniff out a garage sale. Buy from second hand stores.
Trust God.
******* Happy Birthday, Mom!
Monday, April 26, 2010
Get Up
Texts: 1 Kings 17:17 - 24 and Acts 9:32 - 43
Resurrection. Physical resurrection. Before Jesus and after Jesus there are stories about physical resurrection in the Bible. Jesus' resurrection was different because he did it himself. He didn't need help. But, that does not take away from the marvel and miracle of what I'll call assisted resurrections.
When we read the Bible, we often fit ourselves into the story. In the stories that we read today, I think it might be easiest to find ourselves in the character of the mother whose son has died or of the widows who are grieving about Tabitha's death. I'm sure that each of us has lost a loved one and prayed for some kind of miracle or gotten angry. It may be difficult to imagine ourselves as the son or as Tabitha, a person who has died and has been resurrected. It may be even more difficult to imagine ourselves as Elijah or Peter, calling out to God on behalf of someone who is dead with the result being resurrection.
However, just like Carl Jung asks us to interpret our dreams as if every person in the dream is an aspect of our self, I'd like us to interpret this scripture as if each person could be us.
Focusing on the story of Tabitha, first let us consider the widows. These women were not just grieving; they were also hopeful. It says that the disciples heard that Peter was near and sent for him. It also says that Tabitha was a disciple. It seems likely to me that the widows were of the disciples who sent for Peter. When Peter arrives they show him the tunics and other clothing that she made. They were overflowing with memories, praises, and love. Maybe they wanted Peter to know how important she was to their community. Maybe they wanted Peter to see how worthy she was of a miracle.
Whatever their motivation, what strikes me the most is that they called for Peter and hoped for a miracle. They had heard about him healing Aeneas, and while healing a man who was eight years bedridden is no small miracle, it isn't resurrecting someone from the dead. What kind of faith did they have? What kind of need did they have that they would turn so strongly to their faith for an answer? What kind of pain were they in that moved them to seek a miracle of this magnitude?
When we think of faith, do we think of some kind of superhuman power that calls down the glory of God? Do we think of someone who is near enough to perfection that they have some kind of right to ask God for the incredible? If these are our images of faith, it is little wonder to me that so few miracles are happening today.
I think faith is hitting rock bottom and not giving up. I think faith is taking God to task for promises made. I think faith is a result of having a strong connection with the Holy but at the same time feeling a deep longing or ache to have that connection manifested. This is the faith I see in the widow disciples. I believe this is the faith that we need to have. It is a passion, a hope, and an active striving. If we are the widows, we must get in touch with this intense emotion and motivation.
Can we see ourselves as Tabitha? Here we have a woman who has lived her life devoted to the cause of Jesus. She didn't give her hand-me-downs to the poor, but she made them clothes to wear. She was loved dearly by the widows to whom she gave selflessly, which tells us that there was more to their relationships then just giver and taker. She was a part of their lives and they were a part of hers. When Tabitha died it sent more than a ripple through their community, it sent a wave of grief and change. Can we see ourselves as Tabitha, woven into the community like the threads she wove into fabric for the people she loved?
And what of her resurrection? Can we see ourselves there? Have we been touched by the resurrection power of prayer? Have we yielded ourselves to a change so extreme that it brings breath into our lifeless body? We may not have experienced a physical resurrection, but as we yield to the breath of the Spirit, our bodies and our minds are quickened along with our souls. When we hear our Divine Beloved call to us to Get Up, do we have the will and the desire to do so? It can be so much easier to just keep laying there, ignoring or even not believing that it is us to whom the Voice is talking. Peter said, "Tabitha, get up." He called her by name. We need to be like Tabitha and hear our name being called. We need to believe that our name is being called and we need to respond by getting up.
How is it that we can be like Peter? Is it possible that we could physically raise someone from the dead? As I understand the teachings of Jesus, yes, it is very possible that our prayers could have resurrection powers. Jesus sent out his disciples to perform the very miracles that he performed. Peter raises Tabitha from the dead after Jesus' resurrection but before the Holy Spirit was sent on the day of Pentecost. That's amazing!
We are living post Pentecost. The Holy Spirit is no less powerful than before. God's strength and desire have not diminished. I do not have a clue why miracles are not performed every day in the name of Jesus. There are so many of us who profess our faith in Christ. Clearly it takes more than just declaring yourself a Christian to have this kind of extreme power of the Holy Spirit flow.
And truthfully, when we consider the ramifications of embodying such power, how many of us really want it? Elijah carried the boy upstairs and stretched himself over the corpse three times calling out to God. Peter sent everyone out of the room, knelt down, and then prayed before turning to the body of Tabitha and calling her name telling her to rise. We have no indication how long any of this took. We may romanticize that all this took about 15 minutes, but really, we don't know. I expect it takes some work to pray a prayer of resurrection power.
There is an account in the gospels of a boy who is possessed. The disciples could not cast out the demon. Jesus claims in Matthew that it is because of their lack of faith. In Mark he explains that "this kind only comes out through prayer." In other words, this is not easy or casual. You have to be prepared spiritually. You have to have a spiritual discipline to exercise this kind of power. It is like being a spiritual athlete. You have to train and be serious about what you want to do.
Can we see ourselves as Peter? It's hard. It is like imagining ourselves as Tabitha. Both of these disciples were absolutely invested in being a disciple. They both took their calling very seriously. They also both felt a responsibility to the people of their communities. They exercised their gifts and their talents, seeking to do good wherever they went.
Peter was gaining a reputation ... , a kind of fame, like Jesus had. That kind of celebrity will take its toll on a person. Imagining ourselves as Peter is a little like imagining ourselves as Mother Teresa, Bono, or the Dalai Lama. Who can attain to such a depth of discipline? And yet, I believe it is a worthy goal, to imagine ourselves this way. Not to pretend we are powerful when we aren't. Peter wasn't in it for the glory. This is about striving for that connection with God that will make us effective in our communities. It is about gaining a reputation for service and caring. It is about being attainable and not scary.
Peter was sent for and he yielded his plans to those in need. He heard the stories of the widows and he let their grief and hope move him. He took the risk to pray for a miracle.
Peter got up when the Spirit of God told him to get up. Tabitha got up when the Spirit of God through Peter told her to get up. And before all of this, the disciple widows got up in their grief and hope to send for Peter.
It is time to get up. It is time to hear our names being called. It is time to kneel and pray for a miracle. It is time to lift our voices and call for that miracle to happen.
Resurrection. Physical resurrection. Before Jesus and after Jesus there are stories about physical resurrection in the Bible. Jesus' resurrection was different because he did it himself. He didn't need help. But, that does not take away from the marvel and miracle of what I'll call assisted resurrections.
When we read the Bible, we often fit ourselves into the story. In the stories that we read today, I think it might be easiest to find ourselves in the character of the mother whose son has died or of the widows who are grieving about Tabitha's death. I'm sure that each of us has lost a loved one and prayed for some kind of miracle or gotten angry. It may be difficult to imagine ourselves as the son or as Tabitha, a person who has died and has been resurrected. It may be even more difficult to imagine ourselves as Elijah or Peter, calling out to God on behalf of someone who is dead with the result being resurrection.
However, just like Carl Jung asks us to interpret our dreams as if every person in the dream is an aspect of our self, I'd like us to interpret this scripture as if each person could be us.
Focusing on the story of Tabitha, first let us consider the widows. These women were not just grieving; they were also hopeful. It says that the disciples heard that Peter was near and sent for him. It also says that Tabitha was a disciple. It seems likely to me that the widows were of the disciples who sent for Peter. When Peter arrives they show him the tunics and other clothing that she made. They were overflowing with memories, praises, and love. Maybe they wanted Peter to know how important she was to their community. Maybe they wanted Peter to see how worthy she was of a miracle.
Whatever their motivation, what strikes me the most is that they called for Peter and hoped for a miracle. They had heard about him healing Aeneas, and while healing a man who was eight years bedridden is no small miracle, it isn't resurrecting someone from the dead. What kind of faith did they have? What kind of need did they have that they would turn so strongly to their faith for an answer? What kind of pain were they in that moved them to seek a miracle of this magnitude?
When we think of faith, do we think of some kind of superhuman power that calls down the glory of God? Do we think of someone who is near enough to perfection that they have some kind of right to ask God for the incredible? If these are our images of faith, it is little wonder to me that so few miracles are happening today.
I think faith is hitting rock bottom and not giving up. I think faith is taking God to task for promises made. I think faith is a result of having a strong connection with the Holy but at the same time feeling a deep longing or ache to have that connection manifested. This is the faith I see in the widow disciples. I believe this is the faith that we need to have. It is a passion, a hope, and an active striving. If we are the widows, we must get in touch with this intense emotion and motivation.
Can we see ourselves as Tabitha? Here we have a woman who has lived her life devoted to the cause of Jesus. She didn't give her hand-me-downs to the poor, but she made them clothes to wear. She was loved dearly by the widows to whom she gave selflessly, which tells us that there was more to their relationships then just giver and taker. She was a part of their lives and they were a part of hers. When Tabitha died it sent more than a ripple through their community, it sent a wave of grief and change. Can we see ourselves as Tabitha, woven into the community like the threads she wove into fabric for the people she loved?
And what of her resurrection? Can we see ourselves there? Have we been touched by the resurrection power of prayer? Have we yielded ourselves to a change so extreme that it brings breath into our lifeless body? We may not have experienced a physical resurrection, but as we yield to the breath of the Spirit, our bodies and our minds are quickened along with our souls. When we hear our Divine Beloved call to us to Get Up, do we have the will and the desire to do so? It can be so much easier to just keep laying there, ignoring or even not believing that it is us to whom the Voice is talking. Peter said, "Tabitha, get up." He called her by name. We need to be like Tabitha and hear our name being called. We need to believe that our name is being called and we need to respond by getting up.
How is it that we can be like Peter? Is it possible that we could physically raise someone from the dead? As I understand the teachings of Jesus, yes, it is very possible that our prayers could have resurrection powers. Jesus sent out his disciples to perform the very miracles that he performed. Peter raises Tabitha from the dead after Jesus' resurrection but before the Holy Spirit was sent on the day of Pentecost. That's amazing!
We are living post Pentecost. The Holy Spirit is no less powerful than before. God's strength and desire have not diminished. I do not have a clue why miracles are not performed every day in the name of Jesus. There are so many of us who profess our faith in Christ. Clearly it takes more than just declaring yourself a Christian to have this kind of extreme power of the Holy Spirit flow.
And truthfully, when we consider the ramifications of embodying such power, how many of us really want it? Elijah carried the boy upstairs and stretched himself over the corpse three times calling out to God. Peter sent everyone out of the room, knelt down, and then prayed before turning to the body of Tabitha and calling her name telling her to rise. We have no indication how long any of this took. We may romanticize that all this took about 15 minutes, but really, we don't know. I expect it takes some work to pray a prayer of resurrection power.
There is an account in the gospels of a boy who is possessed. The disciples could not cast out the demon. Jesus claims in Matthew that it is because of their lack of faith. In Mark he explains that "this kind only comes out through prayer." In other words, this is not easy or casual. You have to be prepared spiritually. You have to have a spiritual discipline to exercise this kind of power. It is like being a spiritual athlete. You have to train and be serious about what you want to do.
Can we see ourselves as Peter? It's hard. It is like imagining ourselves as Tabitha. Both of these disciples were absolutely invested in being a disciple. They both took their calling very seriously. They also both felt a responsibility to the people of their communities. They exercised their gifts and their talents, seeking to do good wherever they went.
Peter was gaining a reputation ... , a kind of fame, like Jesus had. That kind of celebrity will take its toll on a person. Imagining ourselves as Peter is a little like imagining ourselves as Mother Teresa, Bono, or the Dalai Lama. Who can attain to such a depth of discipline? And yet, I believe it is a worthy goal, to imagine ourselves this way. Not to pretend we are powerful when we aren't. Peter wasn't in it for the glory. This is about striving for that connection with God that will make us effective in our communities. It is about gaining a reputation for service and caring. It is about being attainable and not scary.
Peter was sent for and he yielded his plans to those in need. He heard the stories of the widows and he let their grief and hope move him. He took the risk to pray for a miracle.
Peter got up when the Spirit of God told him to get up. Tabitha got up when the Spirit of God through Peter told her to get up. And before all of this, the disciple widows got up in their grief and hope to send for Peter.
It is time to get up. It is time to hear our names being called. It is time to kneel and pray for a miracle. It is time to lift our voices and call for that miracle to happen.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Today is today
Text: Luke 19: 28 - 40
The stories preceding this story are not all happy and joyful. Some are but to me they certainly don't build to this "Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem."
At the end of chapter 18, Jesus foretells his death and resurrection for the third time in Luke's gospel. And for the third time, the disciples don't get it.
Then a blind beggar is shouting out to Jesus while those around him sternly shush him. But he will not be shushed. He shouts even more loudly. The story then reads, Jesus stood still and ordered the man to be brought to him. Jesus didn't keep walking. He did not make them catch up to him. He stopped what he was doing so that he could attend to this man who was shouting out to him. After the beggar received his sight he began glorifying God and followed Jesus.
Next is the story of Zacchaeus, a chief tax collector who was rich and "short in stature." He wanted to see Jesus as he passed by so he climbed a tree. Jesus saw him, called him by name, and invited himself over to spend the night. Zacchaeus was thrilled. The crowd grumbled. After all, Zacchaeus was a chief of the tax collectors. How much more of a sinner could Jesus find? But Jesus sees Zacchaeus' character and not his occupation, and calls him a son of Abraham.
Immediately following this, while Jesus had the attention of his crowd of disciples ... grumbly though they were ... he told them the parable of "a nobleman who went to a distant country to get royal power for himself." The nobleman summons ten of his slaves and gives them each the same amount of money with which to do business until he returns. While he is gone, many of the citizens speak out against his being a ruler over them because they hate him. We are told what happens with three of these slaves. The first profits 10 more pounds, the second profits 5, and the third has only the pound he was given. While the first and the second are rewarded with cities to govern equivalent to the profits they made, the nobleman takes the pound away from the third one and gives it to the first. Finally, the nobleman turned king says those citizens who hate him are his enemies and he calls for their slaughter in his presence.
Now we begin our story of the triumphal entry. Not after the joyous glorifying of God after the beggar's healing. Not after Zacchaeus being declared a son of Abraham. No ... it is after a harsh king reprimands a scared slave and calls for the slaughter of those who oppose him. And all of these stories are in the context of Jesus explaining to his followers that he is about to be tortured and killed and them not getting it.
This story of the triumphal entry, like so many other stories, often gets told in a vacuum as if it's just one cool thing happening after another until finally they are overwhelmed with joy to the point of singing and dancing in the street. Other times the disciples are criticized because they are singing and dancing in the street when they should be scared out of their minds about Jesus' prediction of his death.
Were they rejoicing because they thought those who opposed Jesus were going to be slaughtered in his presence? How could they think that and why would they rejoice over that? It doesn't jive with the rest of Jesus' teachings.
Did they not understand Jesus telling them that he was going to be tortured and killed because they thought it was a parable? Did they not understand because they didn't want to understand?
Does it matter? Were they wrong to express their joy that Jesus was with them that day riding on a donkey showing the world that he was indeed THE King? The Pharisees thought it was wrong. According to Jesus it was not wrong of them. It was the only reasonable thing that they could be doing. If they stopped, the stones would shout out. That seems like it would have been even more disruptive than a parade of shouting people.
Some scholars believe that Jesus was leading his parade of loyal followers at the same time that Pontius Pilate was leading his parade at the other end of the city. Both came for the purpose of peace. Pilate came to keep the peace during the Passover when droves of Jews came to their most holy city to remember the time that their people revolted against their oppressors with Moses and God at the helm. How clever of the Romans to let one Jewish prisoner go during the Passover. Moses demanded Pharaoh, "Let my people go!" But Pharaoh's heart was hardened. Pilate said, "Okay, I'll give you one. You get choose even."
Whatever the factual details of the day were; whatever the motivation for the cheering and singing; Jesus was riding on a donkey on which no one had ever ridden and he had a parade cheering him on. The donkey ... a humble working animal. One that had never been ridden ... a humble working animal saved for a sacred moment. How could the crowds resist cheering? In spite of the dire the parables and criticism by the Pharisees, their messiah; their healer; their hero was riding into Jerusalem for the festival and they were right there for it!
A lot had happened prior to this moment. A lot was going to happen after this moment. But this was the moment in which they were living. They may not have understood half of what Jesus said, but they did see what he did and they knew how he made them feel. And right now he made them feel like celebrating.
There are so many moments. We think we know what might happen tomorrow or next week. And we know what happened yesterday. We know that we don't understand half of what's going on most of the time. Can we set all these knowings aside – not forget about them completely because they do inform how we make plans and help us make the choices that are set before us – but can we set aside the expectation of how we should feel or live based on these knowings and simply look at the moment we are in and respond to that? Sure there are people out there who will criticize. We may be tempted to criticize our own selves. But when we miss those moments we never get them back. If Jesus had died and not gotten the parade because folks were too bound by his coming death, it would have been a grievous loss. When I sit at the bedside of someone who is dying it's a beautiful thing to find a moment of laughter or celebration.
We are all going through very hard things. Our tomorrows may be painful and scary. Our today may be painful and scary. But when there is a moment to celebrate – regardless of who will think what – we should celebrate. I think we should look for those moments of joy. I think we should even create them.
The writer of proverbs said, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick." (Pr 13:12) The writer of proverbs also says, "A glad heart makes a cheerful countenance, but by sorrow of the heart the spirit is broken." (Pr 15:13) And also, "A cheerful heart is a good medicine, but a downcast spirit dries up the bones." (Pr 17:22)
I know it is not easy to have a cheerful heart when hope is deferred! But I also know that I do not want my bones to dry up. I do not want my spirit broken. Neither do I want to see your bones dry or your spirit broken.
Today's celebration just may be what gets you through tomorrow's grief. Good Friday will get here soon enough. For today, Happy Palm Sunday.
The stories preceding this story are not all happy and joyful. Some are but to me they certainly don't build to this "Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem."
At the end of chapter 18, Jesus foretells his death and resurrection for the third time in Luke's gospel. And for the third time, the disciples don't get it.
Then a blind beggar is shouting out to Jesus while those around him sternly shush him. But he will not be shushed. He shouts even more loudly. The story then reads, Jesus stood still and ordered the man to be brought to him. Jesus didn't keep walking. He did not make them catch up to him. He stopped what he was doing so that he could attend to this man who was shouting out to him. After the beggar received his sight he began glorifying God and followed Jesus.
Next is the story of Zacchaeus, a chief tax collector who was rich and "short in stature." He wanted to see Jesus as he passed by so he climbed a tree. Jesus saw him, called him by name, and invited himself over to spend the night. Zacchaeus was thrilled. The crowd grumbled. After all, Zacchaeus was a chief of the tax collectors. How much more of a sinner could Jesus find? But Jesus sees Zacchaeus' character and not his occupation, and calls him a son of Abraham.
Immediately following this, while Jesus had the attention of his crowd of disciples ... grumbly though they were ... he told them the parable of "a nobleman who went to a distant country to get royal power for himself." The nobleman summons ten of his slaves and gives them each the same amount of money with which to do business until he returns. While he is gone, many of the citizens speak out against his being a ruler over them because they hate him. We are told what happens with three of these slaves. The first profits 10 more pounds, the second profits 5, and the third has only the pound he was given. While the first and the second are rewarded with cities to govern equivalent to the profits they made, the nobleman takes the pound away from the third one and gives it to the first. Finally, the nobleman turned king says those citizens who hate him are his enemies and he calls for their slaughter in his presence.
Now we begin our story of the triumphal entry. Not after the joyous glorifying of God after the beggar's healing. Not after Zacchaeus being declared a son of Abraham. No ... it is after a harsh king reprimands a scared slave and calls for the slaughter of those who oppose him. And all of these stories are in the context of Jesus explaining to his followers that he is about to be tortured and killed and them not getting it.
This story of the triumphal entry, like so many other stories, often gets told in a vacuum as if it's just one cool thing happening after another until finally they are overwhelmed with joy to the point of singing and dancing in the street. Other times the disciples are criticized because they are singing and dancing in the street when they should be scared out of their minds about Jesus' prediction of his death.
Were they rejoicing because they thought those who opposed Jesus were going to be slaughtered in his presence? How could they think that and why would they rejoice over that? It doesn't jive with the rest of Jesus' teachings.
Did they not understand Jesus telling them that he was going to be tortured and killed because they thought it was a parable? Did they not understand because they didn't want to understand?
Does it matter? Were they wrong to express their joy that Jesus was with them that day riding on a donkey showing the world that he was indeed THE King? The Pharisees thought it was wrong. According to Jesus it was not wrong of them. It was the only reasonable thing that they could be doing. If they stopped, the stones would shout out. That seems like it would have been even more disruptive than a parade of shouting people.
Some scholars believe that Jesus was leading his parade of loyal followers at the same time that Pontius Pilate was leading his parade at the other end of the city. Both came for the purpose of peace. Pilate came to keep the peace during the Passover when droves of Jews came to their most holy city to remember the time that their people revolted against their oppressors with Moses and God at the helm. How clever of the Romans to let one Jewish prisoner go during the Passover. Moses demanded Pharaoh, "Let my people go!" But Pharaoh's heart was hardened. Pilate said, "Okay, I'll give you one. You get choose even."
Whatever the factual details of the day were; whatever the motivation for the cheering and singing; Jesus was riding on a donkey on which no one had ever ridden and he had a parade cheering him on. The donkey ... a humble working animal. One that had never been ridden ... a humble working animal saved for a sacred moment. How could the crowds resist cheering? In spite of the dire the parables and criticism by the Pharisees, their messiah; their healer; their hero was riding into Jerusalem for the festival and they were right there for it!
A lot had happened prior to this moment. A lot was going to happen after this moment. But this was the moment in which they were living. They may not have understood half of what Jesus said, but they did see what he did and they knew how he made them feel. And right now he made them feel like celebrating.
There are so many moments. We think we know what might happen tomorrow or next week. And we know what happened yesterday. We know that we don't understand half of what's going on most of the time. Can we set all these knowings aside – not forget about them completely because they do inform how we make plans and help us make the choices that are set before us – but can we set aside the expectation of how we should feel or live based on these knowings and simply look at the moment we are in and respond to that? Sure there are people out there who will criticize. We may be tempted to criticize our own selves. But when we miss those moments we never get them back. If Jesus had died and not gotten the parade because folks were too bound by his coming death, it would have been a grievous loss. When I sit at the bedside of someone who is dying it's a beautiful thing to find a moment of laughter or celebration.
We are all going through very hard things. Our tomorrows may be painful and scary. Our today may be painful and scary. But when there is a moment to celebrate – regardless of who will think what – we should celebrate. I think we should look for those moments of joy. I think we should even create them.
The writer of proverbs said, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick." (Pr 13:12) The writer of proverbs also says, "A glad heart makes a cheerful countenance, but by sorrow of the heart the spirit is broken." (Pr 15:13) And also, "A cheerful heart is a good medicine, but a downcast spirit dries up the bones." (Pr 17:22)
I know it is not easy to have a cheerful heart when hope is deferred! But I also know that I do not want my bones to dry up. I do not want my spirit broken. Neither do I want to see your bones dry or your spirit broken.
Today's celebration just may be what gets you through tomorrow's grief. Good Friday will get here soon enough. For today, Happy Palm Sunday.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Categories
Texts: Luke 15 and The Invitation by Oriah http://www.oriahmountaindreamer.com/
I have read a couple of articles lately that talk about the Middle Eastern proverb that states, "I saw them eating and I knew who they were." I wonder if someone passing by our potluck would have said to themselves or to the person next to them, "I know who they are," just because we were eating together. I wonder which one or two of us would have stood out to them as the indicator of the group's status. I wonder if how we eat as a group defines us in some certain way so that someone not of our community would say, "I know who they are." Everyone has something they are looking for. Probably each one of us meets some kind of criteria for someone else's judgment. And probably we each have some criteria we look for too.
Jesus is being judged according to his eating with tax collectors and sinners. In response Jesus tells three stories, the last of which is the story of the prodigal. The first story is the story of the lost sheep. The second story is the story of the lost coin. In each of the three stories what was lost ended up being found. The finding of what was lost ends up in rejoicing and calling people up to have a party. "I lost something that was important. Now I've found it. I'm so happy. Come rejoice with me." In the first two stories the party is called and there is no conflict. In the third story, there is conflict. The older son is furious that his younger brother who was irresponsible and selfish comes home and is received with rejoicing. There is no punishment meted out. There is no reconciling rights and wrongs. There is just rejoicing.
The Pharisees and scribes grumbled saying, "This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them." The older brother refuses to go inside to his younger brother's party. He will not eat the fattened calf with them. The father goes in without him. The Pharisees and scribes do not rejoice that those who they label tax collectors and sinners desire to be with a holy man who heals and teaches. Instead of rejoicing over the sheep that Jesus has found, they categorize Jesus as being like unto a tax collector and sinner. Just like the older brother does not rejoice with his father that his once-dead brother has returned, the Pharisees and scribes do not rejoice with Jesus.
We are categorized and we categorize according to type. In this scripture I see a call to stop looking at the superficial categories that we create and to come together. I also see a call to live into the truth of our being children of a magnificent, abundant, powerful, and extravagant divine parent. The older brother is told by his father, "You are always with me and all that is mine is yours." Do we live, though, like the older brother ... our nose to the grindstone and our hearts weary with work and resentment? Do we obey commands and yet not celebrate?
The older brother and the Pharisees worked hard and followed all the rules. But they did not see the abundance that was right in front of them. All they could see were the rules and the work. The younger son saw all the abundance and didn't see the work at all, that is, until the abundance ran out. Neither perspective is full.
Jesus calls us to a new perspective, one that obliterates our superficial categories altogether. This perspective calls us to see each other more deeply and to respond to each other with more innocence. When the shepherd lost and found his sheep, when the woman lost and found her coin, they rejoiced and called their friends to come party with them. When the father lost and found his son, he rejoiced and began organizing a party.
Can we shed our need for the categories that keep us walking with folks that look and talk and eat like us? I'm not suggesting that we put ourselves into situations where we will be abused. But, can we risk getting to know people and really caring about them ... even rejoicing with them ... who are not like us? Can we reach deeper and look for the similarities that are more at our core.
Can we learn to work hard and to party hard? Can we see and feel deep in our soul the abundance that is ours simply because of our relationship with God? Can we also see and feel the power that we have to be a part of the work in bringing the Realm of Heaven here to our earth? Can we do this work by shattering the categories that keep us isolated, but that feel safe?
This poem by Oriah, called The Invitation, inspires me to the deeper calling that I hear Jesus teaching. This teaching that asks us to transcend our boundaries and to rejoice with those who have found what they have lost, whatever that is.
How can we do this? How do we get to know people who are not like us? We have to lift up our eyes ... maybe the eyes of our soul. We have to go outside of our daily patterned life.
What is the real risk of getting to know others who are not like us? Is it that our own soul will be bared? Is it that we will have to redefine what is good and holy and wonderful?
There are stories to be told, stories to be heard, joy and pain to be shared; parties to attend and burdens to bear.
When we find ourselves either being shut out by someone or shutting out someone, we can pause and open our souls to the call of Jesus. If we are being judged, the call is knowing that even if the person in front of us can't rejoice with us, that our Messiah is and that we have a community here that will. If we find ourselves being critical of others that Jesus is spending time with, we need to lay down our categories and step over the boundaries that are superficial.
In truth, I don't think we have to go too far out of our way to simply share the lives of those not like us. We don't have to become best friends with someone to appreciate a moment of life.
What we have to do, is open ourselves up to the moments as the present themselves.
I have read a couple of articles lately that talk about the Middle Eastern proverb that states, "I saw them eating and I knew who they were." I wonder if someone passing by our potluck would have said to themselves or to the person next to them, "I know who they are," just because we were eating together. I wonder which one or two of us would have stood out to them as the indicator of the group's status. I wonder if how we eat as a group defines us in some certain way so that someone not of our community would say, "I know who they are." Everyone has something they are looking for. Probably each one of us meets some kind of criteria for someone else's judgment. And probably we each have some criteria we look for too.
Jesus is being judged according to his eating with tax collectors and sinners. In response Jesus tells three stories, the last of which is the story of the prodigal. The first story is the story of the lost sheep. The second story is the story of the lost coin. In each of the three stories what was lost ended up being found. The finding of what was lost ends up in rejoicing and calling people up to have a party. "I lost something that was important. Now I've found it. I'm so happy. Come rejoice with me." In the first two stories the party is called and there is no conflict. In the third story, there is conflict. The older son is furious that his younger brother who was irresponsible and selfish comes home and is received with rejoicing. There is no punishment meted out. There is no reconciling rights and wrongs. There is just rejoicing.
The Pharisees and scribes grumbled saying, "This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them." The older brother refuses to go inside to his younger brother's party. He will not eat the fattened calf with them. The father goes in without him. The Pharisees and scribes do not rejoice that those who they label tax collectors and sinners desire to be with a holy man who heals and teaches. Instead of rejoicing over the sheep that Jesus has found, they categorize Jesus as being like unto a tax collector and sinner. Just like the older brother does not rejoice with his father that his once-dead brother has returned, the Pharisees and scribes do not rejoice with Jesus.
We are categorized and we categorize according to type. In this scripture I see a call to stop looking at the superficial categories that we create and to come together. I also see a call to live into the truth of our being children of a magnificent, abundant, powerful, and extravagant divine parent. The older brother is told by his father, "You are always with me and all that is mine is yours." Do we live, though, like the older brother ... our nose to the grindstone and our hearts weary with work and resentment? Do we obey commands and yet not celebrate?
The older brother and the Pharisees worked hard and followed all the rules. But they did not see the abundance that was right in front of them. All they could see were the rules and the work. The younger son saw all the abundance and didn't see the work at all, that is, until the abundance ran out. Neither perspective is full.
Jesus calls us to a new perspective, one that obliterates our superficial categories altogether. This perspective calls us to see each other more deeply and to respond to each other with more innocence. When the shepherd lost and found his sheep, when the woman lost and found her coin, they rejoiced and called their friends to come party with them. When the father lost and found his son, he rejoiced and began organizing a party.
Can we shed our need for the categories that keep us walking with folks that look and talk and eat like us? I'm not suggesting that we put ourselves into situations where we will be abused. But, can we risk getting to know people and really caring about them ... even rejoicing with them ... who are not like us? Can we reach deeper and look for the similarities that are more at our core.
Can we learn to work hard and to party hard? Can we see and feel deep in our soul the abundance that is ours simply because of our relationship with God? Can we also see and feel the power that we have to be a part of the work in bringing the Realm of Heaven here to our earth? Can we do this work by shattering the categories that keep us isolated, but that feel safe?
This poem by Oriah, called The Invitation, inspires me to the deeper calling that I hear Jesus teaching. This teaching that asks us to transcend our boundaries and to rejoice with those who have found what they have lost, whatever that is.
How can we do this? How do we get to know people who are not like us? We have to lift up our eyes ... maybe the eyes of our soul. We have to go outside of our daily patterned life.
What is the real risk of getting to know others who are not like us? Is it that our own soul will be bared? Is it that we will have to redefine what is good and holy and wonderful?
There are stories to be told, stories to be heard, joy and pain to be shared; parties to attend and burdens to bear.
When we find ourselves either being shut out by someone or shutting out someone, we can pause and open our souls to the call of Jesus. If we are being judged, the call is knowing that even if the person in front of us can't rejoice with us, that our Messiah is and that we have a community here that will. If we find ourselves being critical of others that Jesus is spending time with, we need to lay down our categories and step over the boundaries that are superficial.
In truth, I don't think we have to go too far out of our way to simply share the lives of those not like us. We don't have to become best friends with someone to appreciate a moment of life.
What we have to do, is open ourselves up to the moments as the present themselves.
Sunday, March 07, 2010
Sharing Flesh and Blood
Texts: Hebrews 2:5 - 18 and Ain't I a Woman? By Sojourner Truth (http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/mod/sojtruth-woman.html)
In the Hebrew text we are told that Jesus understands us and can be compassionate to us because he shared in our flesh and blood ... and because he shared in our suffering. His ability to be merciful and faithful as our High Priest is due to his "becoming like us in every respect."
There is something about us humans. We need to be able to relate. We need to be able to see and feel some kind of kinship.
It's no wonder to me that as Christianity spread that the pictures of Jesus changed. Jesus was likely a dark skinned man. Maybe he had nappy hair that was black. His eyes were possibly a deep rich brown like the fertile earth. As his message went from nation to nation his image changed. We are used to looking at people who look like us. It's a superficial thing.
The image of Jesus changed to look like the people who had adopted his teachings. There's really nothing wrong with that ... until one nation becomes dominant and insists that the other nations are wrong and that their depiction of the Messiah is evil. And there's nothing wrong with it unless it is a conquered nation who is being stripped of their beliefs by force and given a whole new set of beliefs from a Messiah with whom they can't relate.
The Hebrew text doesn't give us this superficial relationship with Jesus. We are offered something much more substantial. We are told that Jesus shared in being made of flesh and blood like we are made and that Jesus shared in experiencing suffering just like us. This is the Messiah that we follow ... that we trust with our own flesh and blood ... that we trust with our own suffering. This is the Messiah with whom we share the bread and wine of communion because he shared flesh and blood with us.
Whenever I think about suffering I think of Buddhism. The First Noble Truth is often translated as Life is Suffering. The word suffering is an incomplete translation though. The word that is translated as suffering is Dukkha. Dukkha, like many ancient words, has no equal in many languages, English included. Instead of translating the word, some say that it is more important to look at the three types of Dukkha: Suffering or pain; Impermanence or change; and Conditioned states.
I thought I would take this approach with the Greek word translated as suffering. There are two words that I found being used in our text.
One of the words has three spellings. They are, Pascho (pas-kho), patho, and pentho. These words mean, to experience a sensation or impression (usually painful): - feel, passion, suffer, vex.
The second word is pathema (path'-ay-mah. This means something undergone, an emotion or influence; such as affection, affliction, motion, suffering.
These words have a relationship with the word pathos or passion. I think it's good to look at the fullness of these ideas. We are not just talking about a Messiah who felt the whip of the Romans and the betrayal of the Pharisees. Our Messiah knows all our passions. Our Messiah was made of flesh and blood, just like we are. When his skin was scratched it hurt. When his skin was caressed it felt good. Jesus experienced the whole of the human condition.
If all we focus on is Jesus knowing our pain, then we have a Saviour who only understands part of our life. That's not the kind of Saviour I want!
I want a Saviour who understands me. I want a Messiah who I can laugh and cry with. I don't want to laugh by myself. I don't want to enjoy the spring daffodils all alone. The joy of the resurrection was that Jesus returned ... body and all! For this season of Lent we reflect on the wilderness and the betrayal, but the reason we can get through this is because of our confidence in the resurrection! And because we have a Messiah who can relate to us in our flesh and blood we can relate to our Messiah. We can look at the terrible tragedy of his suffering while we are suffering but hopefully we won't stop there. Hopefully we will say, "yes, but ... there is the resurrection." I can endure this suffering. I can live in this suffering. I can conquer this suffering. Hope is powerful
We fill this need of ours through many re-creations of the relatable Messiah. I'm not being flippant. I think re-creations help us get through our every day stuff. Sometimes maybe Jesus seems a little too far off or too powerful. Not quite as relatable as we would like. He is too God-ish. So we create superheroes. Wonder Woman. Superman. Spiderman.
We create fictional characters who walk around just like us. They have boring jobs and relationship troubles. They go to parties. They try to figure out how to fit in. But when the signal is spotted or when a cry for help is heard, they transform into a super-person. They transform into a saviour. Sometimes they suffer at the hands of evil but they always bounce back. These stories give us hope.
As much as these stories seem like mimics of our understanding of Jesus for us, I think they are also show, in some way, how we wish to be. Maybe it's just me, but when I hear the story of Spiderman or the Incredible Hulk, I imagine myself hearing the cry of distress and being transformed into a powerful and almost invincible person who saves the day.
Messiah complex? Maybe.
But that is the desire that is birthed in me when I hear the story of Jesus. I believe that we have been given the gift of a relatable Messiah not just to help us get through life but also to help us become who we need to be in this life. Jesus stands as an example to us of how to live. He is a merciful and faithful high priest to us but he is also our teacher and mentor. We are to follow him to the cross with the promise of experiencing the resurrection.
As Christians, I believe that the superheroes in comic strips and on movie screens are examples of what we need and who we want to be.
We are not called to be above anyone. We are not called to be without defect or awkwardness. We are called to be relatable and yet to hear the cry of distress and answer it in the power with which we have been gifted. And I believe we have all been given some power to answer the cries of distress.
Sojourner Truth asks, "Ain't I a woman?" She extends her arms to show her physical strength and yet asks again, "Ain't I a woman?" I hear echoes of Hebrews 2 in this. Am I not made of flesh and blood? Am I not one of you? Can you not relate to me? I can relate to you. I can see your skin and I know that blood is pumping through your veins. Don't be afraid of my power. Appreciate it for what it is and appreciate me for who I am.
There is comfort and challenge in Jesus being made in our image. We not only have a relatable high priest, saviour messiah ... but we also have a teacher and mentor who calls us to be the same for others.
"14 Since, therefore, the children share flesh and blood, he himself likewise shared the same things, so that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, 15 and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death."
We share this flesh and blood with so many. We come across people who are held captive by the fear of death. Sometimes it's physical death but more often I think there are other deaths or ends that people fear. Everyone needs someone to relate to. Can we follow in the footsteps of our Jesus who, because he was flesh and blood he could be merciful and faithful? And because he was Divine he could triumph over the fear of death.
Can Jesus' ability to relate to us transform us to be able to relate to others? Can we be like Sojourner Truth – proclaiming ourselves to be humans and relatable while challenging the power that holds the fear of death?
Can we take the ways we have been tested through suffering and become merciful and faithful priests of our Divine Beloved?
As lent continues and you meditate on the coming betrayal and then the resurrection of our Jesus, consider how he can relate to you and then how you can relate to others. Consider your super-powers ... your divine powers ... the gifts that you have that you know about and those that are not yet to the surface. Remember that your mild-mannered life is what makes you relatable to so many. Don't scorn your boring days or your awkward moments. Know that your pain and your joy allows you to share in the humanity of others.
And with all this, remember that, as verse 18 says, "Because Jesus himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested."
Because you yourself have been tested by what you suffer, you are able to help those who are being tested. And as you are doing so, Jesus, is helping you.Sharing Flesh and Blood
Texts: Hebrews 2:5 - 18 and Ain't I a Woman? By Sojourner Truth (http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/mod/sojtruth-woman.html)
In the Hebrew text we are told that Jesus understands us and can be compassionate to us because he shared in our flesh and blood ... and because he shared in our suffering. His ability to be merciful and faithful as our High Priest is due to his "becoming like us in every respect."
There is something about us humans. We need to be able to relate. We need to be able to see and feel some kind of kinship.
It's no wonder to me that as Christianity spread that the pictures of Jesus changed. Jesus was likely a dark skinned man. Maybe he had nappy hair that was black. His eyes were possibly a deep rich brown like the fertile earth. As his message went from nation to nation his image changed. We are used to looking at people who look like us. It's a superficial thing.
The image of Jesus changed to look like the people who had adopted his teachings. There's really nothing wrong with that ... until one nation becomes dominant and insists that the other nations are wrong and that their depiction of the Messiah is evil. And there's nothing wrong with it unless it is a conquered nation who is being stripped of their beliefs by force and given a whole new set of beliefs from a Messiah with whom they can't relate.
The Hebrew text doesn't give us this superficial relationship with Jesus. We are offered something much more substantial. We are told that Jesus shared in being made of flesh and blood like we are made and that Jesus shared in experiencing suffering just like us. This is the Messiah that we follow ... that we trust with our own flesh and blood ... that we trust with our own suffering. This is the Messiah with whom we share the bread and wine of communion because he shared flesh and blood with us.
Whenever I think about suffering I think of Buddhism. The First Noble Truth is often translated as Life is Suffering. The word suffering is an incomplete translation though. The word that is translated as suffering is Dukkha. Dukkha, like many ancient words, has no equal in many languages, English included. Instead of translating the word, some say that it is more important to look at the three types of Dukkha: Suffering or pain; Impermanence or change; and Conditioned states.
I thought I would take this approach with the Greek word translated as suffering. There are two words that I found being used in our text.
One of the words has three spellings. They are, Pascho (pas-kho), patho, and pentho. These words mean, to experience a sensation or impression (usually painful): - feel, passion, suffer, vex.
The second word is pathema (path'-ay-mah. This means something undergone, an emotion or influence; such as affection, affliction, motion, suffering.
These words have a relationship with the word pathos or passion. I think it's good to look at the fullness of these ideas. We are not just talking about a Messiah who felt the whip of the Romans and the betrayal of the Pharisees. Our Messiah knows all our passions. Our Messiah was made of flesh and blood, just like we are. When his skin was scratched it hurt. When his skin was caressed it felt good. Jesus experienced the whole of the human condition.
If all we focus on is Jesus knowing our pain, then we have a Saviour who only understands part of our life. That's not the kind of Saviour I want!
I want a Saviour who understands me. I want a Messiah who I can laugh and cry with. I don't want to laugh by myself. I don't want to enjoy the spring daffodils all alone. The joy of the resurrection was that Jesus returned ... body and all! For this season of Lent we reflect on the wilderness and the betrayal, but the reason we can get through this is because of our confidence in the resurrection! And because we have a Messiah who can relate to us in our flesh and blood we can relate to our Messiah. We can look at the terrible tragedy of his suffering while we are suffering but hopefully we won't stop there. Hopefully we will say, "yes, but ... there is the resurrection." I can endure this suffering. I can live in this suffering. I can conquer this suffering. Hope is powerful
We fill this need of ours through many re-creations of the relatable Messiah. I'm not being flippant. I think re-creations help us get through our every day stuff. Sometimes maybe Jesus seems a little too far off or too powerful. Not quite as relatable as we would like. He is too God-ish. So we create superheroes. Wonder Woman. Superman. Spiderman.
We create fictional characters who walk around just like us. They have boring jobs and relationship troubles. They go to parties. They try to figure out how to fit in. But when the signal is spotted or when a cry for help is heard, they transform into a super-person. They transform into a saviour. Sometimes they suffer at the hands of evil but they always bounce back. These stories give us hope.
As much as these stories seem like mimics of our understanding of Jesus for us, I think they are also show, in some way, how we wish to be. Maybe it's just me, but when I hear the story of Spiderman or the Incredible Hulk, I imagine myself hearing the cry of distress and being transformed into a powerful and almost invincible person who saves the day.
Messiah complex? Maybe.
But that is the desire that is birthed in me when I hear the story of Jesus. I believe that we have been given the gift of a relatable Messiah not just to help us get through life but also to help us become who we need to be in this life. Jesus stands as an example to us of how to live. He is a merciful and faithful high priest to us but he is also our teacher and mentor. We are to follow him to the cross with the promise of experiencing the resurrection.
As Christians, I believe that the superheroes in comic strips and on movie screens are examples of what we need and who we want to be.
We are not called to be above anyone. We are not called to be without defect or awkwardness. We are called to be relatable and yet to hear the cry of distress and answer it in the power with which we have been gifted. And I believe we have all been given some power to answer the cries of distress.
Sojourner Truth asks, "Ain't I a woman?" She extends her arms to show her physical strength and yet asks again, "Ain't I a woman?" I hear echoes of Hebrews 2 in this. Am I not made of flesh and blood? Am I not one of you? Can you not relate to me? I can relate to you. I can see your skin and I know that blood is pumping through your veins. Don't be afraid of my power. Appreciate it for what it is and appreciate me for who I am.
There is comfort and challenge in Jesus being made in our image. We not only have a relatable high priest, saviour messiah ... but we also have a teacher and mentor who calls us to be the same for others.
"14 Since, therefore, the children share flesh and blood, he himself likewise shared the same things, so that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, 15 and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death."
We share this flesh and blood with so many. We come across people who are held captive by the fear of death. Sometimes it's physical death but more often I think there are other deaths or ends that people fear. Everyone needs someone to relate to. Can we follow in the footsteps of our Jesus who, because he was flesh and blood he could be merciful and faithful? And because he was Divine he could triumph over the fear of death.
Can Jesus' ability to relate to us transform us to be able to relate to others? Can we be like Sojourner Truth – proclaiming ourselves to be humans and relatable while challenging the power that holds the fear of death?
Can we take the ways we have been tested through suffering and become merciful and faithful priests of our Divine Beloved?
As lent continues and you meditate on the coming betrayal and then the resurrection of our Jesus, consider how he can relate to you and then how you can relate to others. Consider your super-powers ... your divine powers ... the gifts that you have that you know about and those that are not yet to the surface. Remember that your mild-mannered life is what makes you relatable to so many. Don't scorn your boring days or your awkward moments. Know that your pain and your joy allows you to share in the humanity of others.
And with all this, remember that, as verse 18 says, "Because Jesus himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested."
Because you yourself have been tested by what you suffer, you are able to help those who are being tested. And as you are doing so, Jesus, is helping you.
In the Hebrew text we are told that Jesus understands us and can be compassionate to us because he shared in our flesh and blood ... and because he shared in our suffering. His ability to be merciful and faithful as our High Priest is due to his "becoming like us in every respect."
There is something about us humans. We need to be able to relate. We need to be able to see and feel some kind of kinship.
It's no wonder to me that as Christianity spread that the pictures of Jesus changed. Jesus was likely a dark skinned man. Maybe he had nappy hair that was black. His eyes were possibly a deep rich brown like the fertile earth. As his message went from nation to nation his image changed. We are used to looking at people who look like us. It's a superficial thing.
The image of Jesus changed to look like the people who had adopted his teachings. There's really nothing wrong with that ... until one nation becomes dominant and insists that the other nations are wrong and that their depiction of the Messiah is evil. And there's nothing wrong with it unless it is a conquered nation who is being stripped of their beliefs by force and given a whole new set of beliefs from a Messiah with whom they can't relate.
The Hebrew text doesn't give us this superficial relationship with Jesus. We are offered something much more substantial. We are told that Jesus shared in being made of flesh and blood like we are made and that Jesus shared in experiencing suffering just like us. This is the Messiah that we follow ... that we trust with our own flesh and blood ... that we trust with our own suffering. This is the Messiah with whom we share the bread and wine of communion because he shared flesh and blood with us.
Whenever I think about suffering I think of Buddhism. The First Noble Truth is often translated as Life is Suffering. The word suffering is an incomplete translation though. The word that is translated as suffering is Dukkha. Dukkha, like many ancient words, has no equal in many languages, English included. Instead of translating the word, some say that it is more important to look at the three types of Dukkha: Suffering or pain; Impermanence or change; and Conditioned states.
I thought I would take this approach with the Greek word translated as suffering. There are two words that I found being used in our text.
One of the words has three spellings. They are, Pascho (pas-kho), patho, and pentho. These words mean, to experience a sensation or impression (usually painful): - feel, passion, suffer, vex.
The second word is pathema (path'-ay-mah. This means something undergone, an emotion or influence; such as affection, affliction, motion, suffering.
These words have a relationship with the word pathos or passion. I think it's good to look at the fullness of these ideas. We are not just talking about a Messiah who felt the whip of the Romans and the betrayal of the Pharisees. Our Messiah knows all our passions. Our Messiah was made of flesh and blood, just like we are. When his skin was scratched it hurt. When his skin was caressed it felt good. Jesus experienced the whole of the human condition.
If all we focus on is Jesus knowing our pain, then we have a Saviour who only understands part of our life. That's not the kind of Saviour I want!
I want a Saviour who understands me. I want a Messiah who I can laugh and cry with. I don't want to laugh by myself. I don't want to enjoy the spring daffodils all alone. The joy of the resurrection was that Jesus returned ... body and all! For this season of Lent we reflect on the wilderness and the betrayal, but the reason we can get through this is because of our confidence in the resurrection! And because we have a Messiah who can relate to us in our flesh and blood we can relate to our Messiah. We can look at the terrible tragedy of his suffering while we are suffering but hopefully we won't stop there. Hopefully we will say, "yes, but ... there is the resurrection." I can endure this suffering. I can live in this suffering. I can conquer this suffering. Hope is powerful
We fill this need of ours through many re-creations of the relatable Messiah. I'm not being flippant. I think re-creations help us get through our every day stuff. Sometimes maybe Jesus seems a little too far off or too powerful. Not quite as relatable as we would like. He is too God-ish. So we create superheroes. Wonder Woman. Superman. Spiderman.
We create fictional characters who walk around just like us. They have boring jobs and relationship troubles. They go to parties. They try to figure out how to fit in. But when the signal is spotted or when a cry for help is heard, they transform into a super-person. They transform into a saviour. Sometimes they suffer at the hands of evil but they always bounce back. These stories give us hope.
As much as these stories seem like mimics of our understanding of Jesus for us, I think they are also show, in some way, how we wish to be. Maybe it's just me, but when I hear the story of Spiderman or the Incredible Hulk, I imagine myself hearing the cry of distress and being transformed into a powerful and almost invincible person who saves the day.
Messiah complex? Maybe.
But that is the desire that is birthed in me when I hear the story of Jesus. I believe that we have been given the gift of a relatable Messiah not just to help us get through life but also to help us become who we need to be in this life. Jesus stands as an example to us of how to live. He is a merciful and faithful high priest to us but he is also our teacher and mentor. We are to follow him to the cross with the promise of experiencing the resurrection.
As Christians, I believe that the superheroes in comic strips and on movie screens are examples of what we need and who we want to be.
We are not called to be above anyone. We are not called to be without defect or awkwardness. We are called to be relatable and yet to hear the cry of distress and answer it in the power with which we have been gifted. And I believe we have all been given some power to answer the cries of distress.
Sojourner Truth asks, "Ain't I a woman?" She extends her arms to show her physical strength and yet asks again, "Ain't I a woman?" I hear echoes of Hebrews 2 in this. Am I not made of flesh and blood? Am I not one of you? Can you not relate to me? I can relate to you. I can see your skin and I know that blood is pumping through your veins. Don't be afraid of my power. Appreciate it for what it is and appreciate me for who I am.
There is comfort and challenge in Jesus being made in our image. We not only have a relatable high priest, saviour messiah ... but we also have a teacher and mentor who calls us to be the same for others.
"14 Since, therefore, the children share flesh and blood, he himself likewise shared the same things, so that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, 15 and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death."
We share this flesh and blood with so many. We come across people who are held captive by the fear of death. Sometimes it's physical death but more often I think there are other deaths or ends that people fear. Everyone needs someone to relate to. Can we follow in the footsteps of our Jesus who, because he was flesh and blood he could be merciful and faithful? And because he was Divine he could triumph over the fear of death.
Can Jesus' ability to relate to us transform us to be able to relate to others? Can we be like Sojourner Truth – proclaiming ourselves to be humans and relatable while challenging the power that holds the fear of death?
Can we take the ways we have been tested through suffering and become merciful and faithful priests of our Divine Beloved?
As lent continues and you meditate on the coming betrayal and then the resurrection of our Jesus, consider how he can relate to you and then how you can relate to others. Consider your super-powers ... your divine powers ... the gifts that you have that you know about and those that are not yet to the surface. Remember that your mild-mannered life is what makes you relatable to so many. Don't scorn your boring days or your awkward moments. Know that your pain and your joy allows you to share in the humanity of others.
And with all this, remember that, as verse 18 says, "Because Jesus himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested."
Because you yourself have been tested by what you suffer, you are able to help those who are being tested. And as you are doing so, Jesus, is helping you.Sharing Flesh and Blood
Texts: Hebrews 2:5 - 18 and Ain't I a Woman? By Sojourner Truth (http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/mod/sojtruth-woman.html)
In the Hebrew text we are told that Jesus understands us and can be compassionate to us because he shared in our flesh and blood ... and because he shared in our suffering. His ability to be merciful and faithful as our High Priest is due to his "becoming like us in every respect."
There is something about us humans. We need to be able to relate. We need to be able to see and feel some kind of kinship.
It's no wonder to me that as Christianity spread that the pictures of Jesus changed. Jesus was likely a dark skinned man. Maybe he had nappy hair that was black. His eyes were possibly a deep rich brown like the fertile earth. As his message went from nation to nation his image changed. We are used to looking at people who look like us. It's a superficial thing.
The image of Jesus changed to look like the people who had adopted his teachings. There's really nothing wrong with that ... until one nation becomes dominant and insists that the other nations are wrong and that their depiction of the Messiah is evil. And there's nothing wrong with it unless it is a conquered nation who is being stripped of their beliefs by force and given a whole new set of beliefs from a Messiah with whom they can't relate.
The Hebrew text doesn't give us this superficial relationship with Jesus. We are offered something much more substantial. We are told that Jesus shared in being made of flesh and blood like we are made and that Jesus shared in experiencing suffering just like us. This is the Messiah that we follow ... that we trust with our own flesh and blood ... that we trust with our own suffering. This is the Messiah with whom we share the bread and wine of communion because he shared flesh and blood with us.
Whenever I think about suffering I think of Buddhism. The First Noble Truth is often translated as Life is Suffering. The word suffering is an incomplete translation though. The word that is translated as suffering is Dukkha. Dukkha, like many ancient words, has no equal in many languages, English included. Instead of translating the word, some say that it is more important to look at the three types of Dukkha: Suffering or pain; Impermanence or change; and Conditioned states.
I thought I would take this approach with the Greek word translated as suffering. There are two words that I found being used in our text.
One of the words has three spellings. They are, Pascho (pas-kho), patho, and pentho. These words mean, to experience a sensation or impression (usually painful): - feel, passion, suffer, vex.
The second word is pathema (path'-ay-mah. This means something undergone, an emotion or influence; such as affection, affliction, motion, suffering.
These words have a relationship with the word pathos or passion. I think it's good to look at the fullness of these ideas. We are not just talking about a Messiah who felt the whip of the Romans and the betrayal of the Pharisees. Our Messiah knows all our passions. Our Messiah was made of flesh and blood, just like we are. When his skin was scratched it hurt. When his skin was caressed it felt good. Jesus experienced the whole of the human condition.
If all we focus on is Jesus knowing our pain, then we have a Saviour who only understands part of our life. That's not the kind of Saviour I want!
I want a Saviour who understands me. I want a Messiah who I can laugh and cry with. I don't want to laugh by myself. I don't want to enjoy the spring daffodils all alone. The joy of the resurrection was that Jesus returned ... body and all! For this season of Lent we reflect on the wilderness and the betrayal, but the reason we can get through this is because of our confidence in the resurrection! And because we have a Messiah who can relate to us in our flesh and blood we can relate to our Messiah. We can look at the terrible tragedy of his suffering while we are suffering but hopefully we won't stop there. Hopefully we will say, "yes, but ... there is the resurrection." I can endure this suffering. I can live in this suffering. I can conquer this suffering. Hope is powerful
We fill this need of ours through many re-creations of the relatable Messiah. I'm not being flippant. I think re-creations help us get through our every day stuff. Sometimes maybe Jesus seems a little too far off or too powerful. Not quite as relatable as we would like. He is too God-ish. So we create superheroes. Wonder Woman. Superman. Spiderman.
We create fictional characters who walk around just like us. They have boring jobs and relationship troubles. They go to parties. They try to figure out how to fit in. But when the signal is spotted or when a cry for help is heard, they transform into a super-person. They transform into a saviour. Sometimes they suffer at the hands of evil but they always bounce back. These stories give us hope.
As much as these stories seem like mimics of our understanding of Jesus for us, I think they are also show, in some way, how we wish to be. Maybe it's just me, but when I hear the story of Spiderman or the Incredible Hulk, I imagine myself hearing the cry of distress and being transformed into a powerful and almost invincible person who saves the day.
Messiah complex? Maybe.
But that is the desire that is birthed in me when I hear the story of Jesus. I believe that we have been given the gift of a relatable Messiah not just to help us get through life but also to help us become who we need to be in this life. Jesus stands as an example to us of how to live. He is a merciful and faithful high priest to us but he is also our teacher and mentor. We are to follow him to the cross with the promise of experiencing the resurrection.
As Christians, I believe that the superheroes in comic strips and on movie screens are examples of what we need and who we want to be.
We are not called to be above anyone. We are not called to be without defect or awkwardness. We are called to be relatable and yet to hear the cry of distress and answer it in the power with which we have been gifted. And I believe we have all been given some power to answer the cries of distress.
Sojourner Truth asks, "Ain't I a woman?" She extends her arms to show her physical strength and yet asks again, "Ain't I a woman?" I hear echoes of Hebrews 2 in this. Am I not made of flesh and blood? Am I not one of you? Can you not relate to me? I can relate to you. I can see your skin and I know that blood is pumping through your veins. Don't be afraid of my power. Appreciate it for what it is and appreciate me for who I am.
There is comfort and challenge in Jesus being made in our image. We not only have a relatable high priest, saviour messiah ... but we also have a teacher and mentor who calls us to be the same for others.
"14 Since, therefore, the children share flesh and blood, he himself likewise shared the same things, so that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, 15 and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death."
We share this flesh and blood with so many. We come across people who are held captive by the fear of death. Sometimes it's physical death but more often I think there are other deaths or ends that people fear. Everyone needs someone to relate to. Can we follow in the footsteps of our Jesus who, because he was flesh and blood he could be merciful and faithful? And because he was Divine he could triumph over the fear of death.
Can Jesus' ability to relate to us transform us to be able to relate to others? Can we be like Sojourner Truth – proclaiming ourselves to be humans and relatable while challenging the power that holds the fear of death?
Can we take the ways we have been tested through suffering and become merciful and faithful priests of our Divine Beloved?
As lent continues and you meditate on the coming betrayal and then the resurrection of our Jesus, consider how he can relate to you and then how you can relate to others. Consider your super-powers ... your divine powers ... the gifts that you have that you know about and those that are not yet to the surface. Remember that your mild-mannered life is what makes you relatable to so many. Don't scorn your boring days or your awkward moments. Know that your pain and your joy allows you to share in the humanity of others.
And with all this, remember that, as verse 18 says, "Because Jesus himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested."
Because you yourself have been tested by what you suffer, you are able to help those who are being tested. And as you are doing so, Jesus, is helping you.
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