Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Come and Take My Hand

Texts: Luke 4:1-14; John 13: 30 – 36; and the song, Ecclesiastes: Free My Heart by Meshell Ndegeocello

Our celebration of Black History Month continues with a song by Meshell Ndegeocello.
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We are entering a ritual season. The 40 day or 40 year wilderness experience is understood to be a time of testing, trial, and discernment which leads to a call to action which then leads to a promise fulfilled.

In Genesis 8, the rain fell for forty days and forty nights ... a time of testing for Noah's family followed by a call to follow God which is followed by the promise of God to never curse the ground because of humankind's propensity to be evil.

Exodus 16, "The Israelites ate manna forty years, until they came to a habitable land; they ate manna, until they came to the border of the land of Canaan."

Moses twice went into the mountain for 40 days and 40 nights to meet with God. Exodus 24 tells of the first time. Exodus 34, the second. In Exodus 34 it states explicitly that Moses "neither ate bread nor drank water. And he wrote on the tablets the words of the covenant, the ten commandments." The first time was easier - God wrote on the tablets and Moses might have had food.

Moses sent spies into the land of Canaan, according to Numbers 13, and "At the end of forty days they returned from spying out the land." What did the spies discern? The spies reported that the land was amazing but so were the people ... the conclusion being by all but 2 of the spies that Israel didn't have a chance against the Canaanites. The people cried out against Moses and then in Numbers 14 God cries out to the people ... another 40 years for this. And it's not going to be you, it's going to be your kids that get to enter the promised land.

Deuteronomy 8:2 "Remember the long way that the Lord your God has led you these forty years in the wilderness, in order to humble you, testing you to know what was in your heart, whether or not you would keep his commandments."

If you go to a concordance – whether and actual book or online – you will see forty days and years everywhere, such as 1 Kings 2:11, "The time that David reigned over Israel was forty years; he reigned seven years in Hebron, and thirty-three years in Jerusalem."

I bring this up not just to give a Bible lesson, but to say that this is a long-standing tradition that is used in various ways. There's trial. There's testing. There's discernment. It's poetic rather than literal. It's a concept of – a long time – as well showing it is a contained time.

Story after story, even when one like Jesus or Moses goes off into the mountain, what I've noticed is that a person is rarely sent off alone. They might be the only person there, but The Presence accompanies. For, it is to The Presence that we are sent. Even in the midst of trial or discernment ... it is not to the hard thing that we're sent to ... it is to The Presence. The hard thing happens, but hard things always happen. I wonder if it's in contrast to the presence of our Divine Beloved that the hard things feel and even become even harder.

As I've been contemplating Lent ... this season of a long yet contained time of reflection, discernment, and trial ... I have strongly felt that as alone as I am often in person; as alone as I am when I sit on the train filled with other people; as alone as I am because I am the one who inhabits this particular body; I am never actually alone.

In our reading tonight in John 13 Simon Peter doesn't want Jesus to leave him alone. He wants to know where Jesus is going. Jesus answers, "Where I am going, you cannot follow me now; but you will follow afterward."

This is afterward. We are living in afterward. Jesus calls to us - Come and take my hand.

When life becomes as Meshell Ndegeocello sings from the adapted words of Ecclesiastes, that it is time to move to the next step ... that this place and this season is winding down. As she sings, "I'm so ready. Free my heart so my soul may fly," she also sings, "Come and take my hand."

I see here so many pictures from these words. I see Jesus at the Table with his friends. I also see him in the Garden praying. In addition I see Jesus at the resurrection turning to us and saying, "Come, take my hand." It is as if our taking the hand of Jesus helps to free not only our souls, but also his soul.

In the wilderness story where Jesus was tempted he was not alone. It wasn't just the tempter with him either. It was the Spirit that drove him there to begin with. It is not my impression that Spirit just pushed Jesus into the mountains and then said, "See you later. Good luck.Hope it turns out well." I believe Spirit was with him. I believe Spirit sustained him during his time of decision-making. Who was he going to be? What was he going to choose? How was he going to live? Both paths were difficult ones laden with burden and with treasure.

No matter what decisions you are making, no matter how you are shaping this season of Lent to be meaningful to you, please do me this one favour. Don't live through it alone. Even if you need to be the only person on the mountain, don't go through this alone. Let Spirit sweep you up and love you. Let Spirit hold you and comfort you. There are so many people who feel alone and lonely. Sometimes we all feel alone and lonely. It is hard to reach out to The Presence, to feel being accompanied. But mark my words – you are never alone, when you are the only one there or when you are in a crowded room.

This Lenten journey that we are on is toward Easter. It is toward the promise of resurrection. It is toward our own spirit's rebirth. Whatever you do and however you do it, please know that Spirit is with you.

Sometimes Spirit, though, is not enough. Being accompanied by a person can bring great strength and comfort. But it is also a very vulnerable place to be. To give up our walls and our defensive tactics is scary and difficult. Like Peter, we want assurance that with whomever we have shared that kind of intimacy that they won't just go away. Unfortunately, sometimes we are whisked or driven into a seemingly solitary experience. And the truth is that we are the ones who inhabit our bodies, even when we share them with others. It is the you in your you-ness that stays constant.

At every turn, I believe Jesus is singing to us, "Now is afterwards. Come and take my hand. You can go through this forty days. You and I together because I've already done it and I know it's possible. Come ... take my hand."

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Don’t Stop While You’re Ahead

I'm a little late with my posting. This one if from January 31, 2009.

Text: Luke 4:21 – 30

Jesus had a habit of getting into trouble. Through out the gospels he sidesteps one disaster after another. You might say he's socially awkward. Or maybe he's reckless. He always seems to take things a little too far.

In this story in Luke, Jesus comes out of the gate strong. People are responding to him favourably. It says, "They were amazed at his gracious words." He was in the limelight ... and then ... he kept talking. He eloquently told the crowd that was falling in love with him that they couldn't follow through and he equated them to widows and lepers that weren't worth the time a prophet had to spend. The honeymoon was over quickly. The crowd turned on him and not only ran him out of town but they wanted to hurl him off the cliff.

Can you imagine if Jesus had a handler ... a PR person? What kind of trouble Jesus would have gotten into with what happened here? The PR person would have said, "Jesus, what were you thinking? You had them in the palm of your hand. They were yours. Why did you turn on them? Why did you say that stuff to them? You had to know it would tick them off? You can't do stuff like that. You are going to ruin your career before it even starts."

Jesus might reply by saying, "I was just telling them the truth. You know that's what is going to happen."

"Timing, Jesus," the handler replies, "It's in the timing. We would cross that bridge when we come to it. But while you have them, keep them. You need all the support you can get while you can get it. You can't say stuff like that anymore. Stick to healing and encouraging people. We gotta get this thing off the ground."

At this point in my imaginary conversation between Jesus and his PR person I hear Jesus saying, "You have no clue what I'm about. Get out of here!"

The PR person leaves shaking their head mumbling something about Jesus having so much potential.

As I see it, one of the lessons here is that we are to not stop while we are ahead. Being popular ... being the next best thing ... being agreed with ... are not bad on their own but as a follower of Christ, they are not the goal.

Sometimes we get caught up in timing. We want to say the right things but at the right time. So we wait ... and we're silent at times when we could speak up. That's not the way of the Christ.

I know that what I am advocating is risky. Speaking up in a group of people, a group of friends, to your boss, to your employee - they all have risks. I'm not talking about evangelizing. I'm talking about living your life of faith.

Is it wrong to laugh at a handicap person who has fallen? Yes. Is it equally wrong to be silent when others laugh and to not say, "That's not funny." Yes. Is it wrong to laugh at jokes against bisexuals, or to be complicit in a conversation when poor people are being blamed for their poverty because "they just don't work hard enough." Yes.

There are many many times that we could say a simple sentence to stand up for Love and Mercy. But those sentences can be lethal to a conversation. They can be lethal to a relationship. Solidarity with the marginalized is not for the faint-hearted. And I will confess that at times I still find myself silent, the words stuck in my throat, my gut twisted at the thought of speaking, my spirit twisted at the thought of not speaking.

I want to tell you a story. Not long ago I participated in a youth event where kids came from many different churches. The church where I was an associate pastor was quite liberal, but many of the other kids were from conservative churches. On the second day of our week together one of the teens in my class declared something that he thought was stupid as being gay. I confronted him by asking him if he was talking to me. Was he comparing what he was talking about to me? He didn't understand so I told him that as a lesbian I was confused by what he was saying. He and his friends became very upset that I was minister at all. We ended up off topic entirely while they quoted chapter and verse to me about why I was not fit for ministry. I in turn quoted chapter and verse back. It wasn't very productive.

Eventually we got back on topic a little and the young man rephrased his sentence saying, "okay then, it is lame." I had a problem with that too, and I told him so. I said, "Now you are comparing something you don't like to someone who is handicapped. That's not right either." He looked at me like he had had just about enough of me. He said, "So what are we supposed to do, change our whole language." And I said, "Yes. Everything needs to be revamped. That's what Jesus came to tell us." He and his friends were disgusted with me and by me. The rest of the week was terrible. We all had a hard time listening to each other.

Even though that was the outward result of my confronting his choice of words, I do not regret speaking up. It had to be said. And I stand by my conviction that our language and our actions have to be revamped and that that is one of the things that Jesus came to tell us. That is one of the things that Jesus lived.

The PR person in our head wants to monitor and correct our words and actions so that we don't get into too much trouble. That's understandable, but it isn't living our faith to the fullest. Sure there are times to make choices toward safety. I don't walk into just any room and introduce myself as a lesbian. I'm not advocating utter foolishness, but I am advocating risk-taking and faith-living. I do believe that stopping while we're ahead can be a way to avoid sticky conversations that have real meaning and depth.

There were many times that the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King was told that he was pushing his agenda too fast. That he wanted too much. That his timing was off. But Dr. King did not stop while he was ahead. Had he curbed his language a little, not pushed against the status quo so hard, maybe he wouldn't have come up against so resistance. Maybe he ... would have lived his life to his natural end.

Duanna Johnson was a black transwoman who was murdered in Memphis. Perhaps if she just wore men's clothes and was quiet about her gender identity she would be alive today. But Duanna wanted to live a life of freedom and liberty. She wanted to live as she was created. She did not stop while she was ahead.

I'm not painting a very optimistic picture, am I? I seem to be saying that if you push the envelope you are going to get killed. In fact, many people who push the envelope do get killed. Our brother and saviour, Jesus, is one of them. But I have it in mind that if we all push together ... if we all don't stop ... that progress will be made. Others who are in more precarious life situations than us will benefit and then they will be able to join us. Duanna shouldn't have had to die to live in her gender identity, but she couldn't not live her authentic self.

What if all of us who believe God's creation is beautiful, regardless of how similar or different that creation is from us, spoke up in solidarity with those who were different and deemed unbeautiful? What if together we didn't stop while we were ahead? What if we backed each other up and encouraged each other to say the right thing even when it was unpopular or not good politics?

As a Christian, I am a person who follows the teachings of a man who risked it all. A defiant man who spoke out against hate. A man who came to the aid of the woman caught in the act of adultery. This woman was about to be killed by the throwing of stones. Her male lover was not being accused of any guilt, only she was. And as a test the religious authorities physically dragged her to Jesus to see if he would say something for which they could bring a charge against him. You see, they knew that he didn't stop while he was ahead. They were hoping that he would step over the line. However, Jesus could also be quite brilliant in the way he pushed the envelope and after writing in the dirt with his finger awhile he invited anyone without sin to go ahead and fling the first stone at her. One by one all the men left, leaving Jesus and the woman alone. Jesus did not condemn her.

I believe, just like Jesus, we must not stop while we are ahead. There are people that are on the verge of being stoned. If we don't stand in solidarity with them, who will? The risk might be being hurled off a proverbial or a real cliff. We still have to speak up. Some of us are living on the margins, taking risks to live authentic lives as much as possible. Those of us for whom it is a lesser risk to speak up should do so. If we do this together; if we all push together; if we back each other up, there will be no stopping love and mercy and justice.