Unbalanced

In my last post I talked about teetering on the edge of the cliff. After our most recent leadership retreat, I have the feeling that we are beginning to finally lose our footing on the top up there. Our leaders are ready, or so they say, to take the plunge and do some of the changes we've only thus far talked about. Awesome! I just hope they're also ready for the fallout that will come with. I hope that I can prepare them well enough to stand their ground when it feels like its falling out from under us.
We are a group that works well together and spends plenty of time in healthy, spiritual discernment. Honestly, I truly look forward to taking this plunge with them. It's something of an adventure, really.
As for myself, I still struggle daily with making church and worship relevant to all who step in our doors, from my own 6 year old who bounds down the aisle, to the eighty-six year old who teeters in on a walker each week. There are so many people 'out there' who are looking for something, but they don't know where to find it. How can we offer it to them? How can we keep our own integrity in tact at the same time? I try really hard not to fall prey to the books and programs that claim to have all the answers. Most of them are out-of-date before they even get printed. Mostly, I feel challenged to motivate my congregation to find their identity in this changing landscape. Figure out who we are and if it meshes with who we want to be, and if not, make it do so. Ah, it sounds so easy...

On the Edge

I've been struggling a lot lately with what I guess I'll call "the church on the edge." It's nothing new. But being relatively new to this line of work, it's not something I've had to deal with first hand.
The church is balancing on the edge of a cliff, I think. At the top of this cliff is a baren wasteland. A dry, tumbleweed-strewn, dust-blown landscape--dead or nearly. At the bottom, a verdant landscape, lush, maybe a lazy river snaking through, trees, animals, you get the picture.
But back at the top, this church--The Church?--has to decide if it has the guts to step off that cliff. 'Cuz baby, it's a long damn way to the bottom. The ride will be bumpy and we might get a little bruised and even a bit broken on the way.
My congregation has a lot of elderly folks, but we also have a few younger families with young kids. It's a really, REALLY hard balancing act to find ways of worship that are relevant and inspiring across the board. My own six year old has no qualms about telling me how boring she finds 'church' (read 'worship') to be. Hell, I'm starting to find it boring and I'm the one who puts it together! I actually threw the hymnal across the room because I was tired of looking at hymns with archaic words (thee, thou, ye, etc.) and stodgy tunes--and it was the one published in 1990!
And here's where I have to steel my own nerves. Do I have the guts to push my own church over the edge down that cliff? So far, not yet, but I think I'm getting closer. The church, as a whole, is balanced on the edge of that cliff. For the most part, churches are in a nimble dance to keep it balanced there. Maybe they just need someone strong enough to give a good push to send them over the edge.
Yes, as I said, they may get a little bruised and battered on the way down, but damn if it won't be worth the trip!

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year?

I hate to admit it, but I play favorites. I should love all seasons of the church year equally and treat them the same, I know. But I just can't help it--I love Advent best. Honestly, it doesn't have that much to do with Christmas itself. I just love the expectant waiting. I happen to be one of those sorts who actually enjoys anticipation. I love writing the Advent candle lighting liturgy. I love the advent carols, some even more than the Christmas ones. I love getting the Advent calendars for the girls in the mail and...
well, ok, I love some of the secular stuff too. I admit that getting to bake the Christmas cookies and a joy for me. I do like to decorate for the holidays with evergreens from the backyard and the glow of candles on every (high, out of reach of small children) surface. We're not traveling this year so it'll be a much quieter, calmer experience since we won't be getting ready for both Christmas and traveling.
So, yeah, I play favorites. It's just how I roll.

Shifting

We are approaching our annual leadership retreat for the church this weekend. Myself and a few other 'visionary' leaders are aiming to begin what I am sure will be a long and sometimes painful process of transformation. A transformation from an inward focused congregation to an outward focused congregation.
I've done lots of reading on congregational transformation. It's not always a nice thing. Many people (usually older) resist the change because they like church to be all about them. The church is there to care for them and their needs and to make them feel good about themselves. Unfortunately, I have yet to see any evidence of this being a biblical model of church.
So often we forget that we have been called to "go and make disciples of all nations" and that the way of Christ is not always easy. Christ's way is a way of service and compassion--two things I see many mainline churches sadly lacking. Sure, we have compassion for each other, our own members--but not for those outside our walls, the ones truly hurting and in need.
This is a total paradigm shift from the church of the 1950's era. This is the church model I'm fighting against. A model that allowed church to be on par with a social club like Rotary or Lions club. A model that saw church as a place to see and be seen, a place that you went because that's 'what nice people do.' A model that even had a dress code or you weren't allowed in.
That's a lot to go up against. I'm glad I have a few folks who are interested in and committed to fighting this battle with me. As one of them put it, "we're turning a barge around in a ditch." Yep. That's about right. Pray for us, k?

On Being of the Female Persuasion and in the Ministry

Being a woman in the ministry is something that I didn't worry too much about when I came here, even though I was the first woman that this congregation had ever had. I was more concerned about my age--more specifically, my age compared to the average age of this congregation (and the denomination as a whole).
Over at RGBP this past week, there was a post on what to look out for being the first woman pastor of a congregation. It got me thinking of the challenges that I have faced over the past two and a half years. Honestly, most of them aren't due to my gender. Some folks have been a little less confortable than others. I don't think we lost anyone over it, at least not that I'm aware of. But as pointed out in one of the comments to the post, I am tangling a bit now with some of the matriarch/patriarch 'dynasties' in the church. This is unraveling in several ways. Mostly it is coming about with knit-picky snipping at me for what they see me not doing to their particular liking or standards. "We've come to expect better (fill in the blank) from our pastors here," is a frequent relay.
Thankfully, I know I also have some staunch supporters who are excited about my ministry with this church and know that I care for the congregation (knit-pickers and all!) and that change is always a painful experience, especially for smaller congregations.
Probably harder than anything else is being a mom and a minister. I'm still the primary care-giver. I am thankful that my vocation allows me some flexibility to my schedule. Who says I have to sit in my office to write a sermon? I have a laptop. Starbucks, anyone? Some members believe that ministry ought to be a career like any other. 9-5, fire at will, that they as the members are my 'boss,' that sort of thing. But I have some wise lay people who reminded me that my 'contract' is actually called a 'covenant.' That is, in the sense of a marriage. I don't actually work for the church, I work for Christ--he's the boss! I was called to lead and minister to this church in the name of Christ, as his disciple. I am blessed to have wonderful colleagues and lay people to help me sort all this out and help me to realize what is actually beneath some of the knit-picking. Once I know the root, it's far more easily addressed and the lay leaders who are not part of the entrenched dynasties are wonderful at taking the leadership mantle and addressing the rest of the congregation when those sorts of critical comments would be better received that way than from me.
I am also blessed to have many wonderful female colleagues in the area. Even though I am the only woman pastor in my town, the rest of the men that I have encountered of other denominations have been very open and we have good collegial relationships. But I also know that I couldn't make it without my minister girl-friends! We are all in similar situations and it is so helpful to know that small churches are fairly predictable and I'm not going through this alone.
Still, I have been very well received by the majority of folks here in my congregation. My pillars are very good to me and help remind me why my work here is still very relevant. I know that the Spirit is moving and shaking here and we have to lead, follow, or get out of the way! TBTG!

for future reference

I just hate it when I find great stuff like this after the fact (story of my life)
But I want it here so I can find it again next year!

Jinxed

I'm sure I cursed myself the other day when I told someone that, with 4 in '09, surely we would be death/funeral free for at least the first half of 2010. While none of my congregation is appearing to be in eminent danger of passing, the grandfather of one of our members died over the weekend and I was asked to do the service. It won't be at the church as neither the member's parents or grandparents were religiously affiliated, but I had helped with the father's sudden passing in the summer and so was asked to come be with the family again. They've had a lot to deal with in the past 6 or 7 months. I worry that the grandmother isn't far behind either. I suppose the 'good' news is that the grandparents are both in poor health and it was not completely unexpected. I think that helps in some small way.
Personally, I like funerals. You really get to know people. The facades fade or crumble and people share their stories and memories. They are, however, quite emotionally exhausting for everyone, including the minister. But more than any other time in my ministry, I am brought up short by just how amazing and even palpable God's grace is during these difficult times. TBTG!

Lent Already?!?

The last time I posted it was about Advent, now it's time for Lent! How in the heck did that happen??
It's not going to slow down anytime soon either. I have Ash Wednesday to plan, a Lenten Bible Study, the regular weekly bible study, the community Lenten services to attend--the first of which our church is hosting,as well as the normal sermons to write, oh, and a baptism coming up (that one gets a hooray!) Trying to plan when confirmation should begin (probably the fall). Hmmmm... I better quit before I get too overwhelmed. I supposed I'd rather be busy than bored though!
We had three days off school this week too, so I'm frantically trying to catch up from that. Snow, and lots of it. Not something we see much of around here and certainly not in that sort of quantity. L loved it. M was nonplussed, though that's fair since all she can do is let it hit her in the face. It was too powdery to build snowmen though, much to L's disappointment.
Can I just say, stream of conscience, that I am so excited to actually have a real, grown-up date planned with my hubby? Wow! When was the last time we did that? Can't even recall. Probably the Indigo Girls concert when I was preggo with M. Not that we could do much conversing there--no, wait there was also the Gaelic Storm concert. Again, not much conversation. So this will be a nice, sit-down dinner where we can talk about things other than the children or work. (At least I hope we still have other things to talk about!)
My work is going good though. I'm hoping we can be funeral free for a while. I don't see any immanent, but you never know. The only thing I wish is that we had some more self-starters in the church. I feel like I'm having to come up with all new ideas and that means it's harder to get people passionate about following through on them. I get a little jealous when I see other churches with people who start their own programs and initiatives. (Like, say, recycling--why in the world don't we do that?!)
But overall, they are good, hard-working people, and I love them. Amen.

following my own advice

I preach--not just from the pulpit--every Advent about not letting the hustle and bustle of preparing our homes for the coming of Christmas supersede the preparation of our hearts for the coming of Christ. And while I can't be accused of that (our decorations consist of a garland with the stockings and a 4.5 ft. tree with lights and a few ornaments) I can be accused of trying so hard to have the services be perfect that I neglect my own devotions and time for myself to pray and just be still and know...
I have a hard time balancing what I want to do with what I have to do and what needs to be done. Bake cookies for my friends, no problem--that's fun! Take the donated coats to the neighbor church, who wants to do that? (Hint: not me)

Thanks-giving

Giving thanks is easy to do when you have a lot to be thankful for. I sit here thinking about all the people who are struggling this holiday season. There are so many who are out of work, who have no home or family to go to, who are wondering if they will be able to meet the bills next month. The list goes on.
A pastor friend of mine wrote this on his FB page: "[The story of Thanksgiving: Native] people give food to dumb starving white people...white people kill them. Neat story" And my response: "...and so the white people give thanks by staying home and gorging themselves while millions in our country still starve every day."

And so perhaps not so strangely, this year, I didn't stuff myself as I have in years past. My mind was on those who wouldn't be having much if anything to eat today. I thought about the entire town near our own whose very existence is in question after the shut-down of a factory that employs nearly 1/8 of that town's population as well as quite a number of ours. What are they giving thanks for today?

And so I count my own blessings. I have a job, my spouse has a job, we are healthy, I have family that I love, I have in-laws who like me... I could fill a whole page with trivialities. But mostly I am thankful that I am able to find my security not in those things, but in my faith in God. For that, I am truly thankful.

tag: crap I'm tired...

I have a tag called "crap I'm tired of" but right now, I just feel like, "Crap, I'm tired!" Baby is waking up at around 2 every night still. What dumbass said that 5-6 hours is sleeping though the night (apparently that's the AAP definition!) Yeah, sure. I had to laugh though. I thought I was being pretty low key about getting her and nursing her and going back to sleep. Turns out, I frequently talk (occasionally swear!) and toss the covers around, completely waking up P--and not having a clue I was doing any of it! I guess I was more asleep than I thought!
Both kids have been sick in the last week, both with fevers and ear infections--though L's hasn't been diagnosed yet, since she just today started to complain about the ear. May try a homeopathic drop I saw before hitting the doctor's office since she can be a bit dramatic sometimes. It may just be that her head is stuffy.
Otherwise, I'm glad that my dad is here for the weekend and next as well, and we might take an evening and drive out to the beach to visit with him and his friends and let L play in the sand.

out of focus

It's amazing sometimes, the way that ministry can be viewed so differently by different people. I meet regularly with a newly formed pastor-parish relations team, a team created to help there be better communications between myself and the people in the pews, so to speak. Supposedly it is to avoid triangulation and to pass on difficulties that people don't feel they can voice in person. So, if you've already figured out that it has become a "pick on the pastor" team, you'd be right. So far, I've been told all the things I'm doing wrong, and not a single word of what I do well (and I'm sure there must be something I'm doing well!)
But what it comes out of is differing views of what a pastor should be doing. This group feels that my ministry should be primarily inward focused--HUGE amounts of pastoral care and visitation. They had a single older gentleman pastor several years ago who focused ALL his attention on the church people. "So we've come to expect that level of care from our pastors. In other words, "because we've always done it that way." Not that I don't provide PC & V. Hospital visits, shut-in and nursing home visits, calls when folks are gone for a few weeks w/out notice, calls when we have new visitors, calls when the deacons share a need, etc. I'm there!
But questions like, "do you keep a log of visits and calls? do you turn it in to anyone?" um, no and no. Am I getting a grade on this? I got the impression that they literally wanted me to go down the directory list (maybe as often as once a month!) and call every person just to say "hi!" 'Course, I assume they also want me to continue to preach, teach, and outreach.
There's the kicker--time. I ain't got that much. I realize that they have never had a young pastor with a young family. Previous pastors who made phone calls at 7 or 8 at night didn't have kids to bathe and get in bed.
So really, what's going to happen is I'm going to have to hold a "come to Jesus meeting" with this committee and hash out where I need to focus my energy. Right now, it's outward--and good things are happening in this church! There is more energy, new members are coming to join us, people are excited about ministry again. So as I type that, I wonder if some of this visitation crap isn't somewhat about fear of change. Make the pastor care for us and maybe the new people will drift off or not come at all. Hmm, something to think about.

Sermon: Tongue Lashing

James 3:1-12

I was rather surprised that the verses from James were the ones that the lectionary used for the Sunday that is the kick-off for the Sunday School year for the majority of mainline denominations. What? Are they trying to scare off the few people we have who still want to teach? Here we are celebrating our teachers and James is giving them a stern lecture, warning them how careful they must be about what comes out of their mouths.

But the more I thought about it, the more it does seem appropriate. After all, Jesus has told us that it is not what goes into our mouths that defiles us, but what comes out. There are all kinds of sayings about watching your mouth so it won’t get you in trouble. And because our teachers are leaders to whom we look for example, surely they must be particularly cautious. James had obviously been having some trouble with the leaders in the congregation to whom he is writing. He is well aware that those people in positions of authority must watch what they say, because others are looking to them and trusting them as leaders.

See, words have incredible power. Pastors more than most have a deep and difficult understanding of this, I think. Yet we all face it, any time we open our mouths and let words spill out. And it’s not just the words we say, but how we say them—inflection, timing, and so on. Admittedly, that’s one reason I’m not much of a texter. Not only do you lose inflection, you even lose the vowels! Without the modulation of voice, I would worry that jests might come across as serious or sympathy as sarcastic or any number of other misunderstandings. And yet it is a powerful way of communicating for an entire generation. One teen I asked about it said that they prefer it because you can hold conversations with many people at once and that there are no awkward silences. I argue that it takes away the personal aspect, though for some I suppose that might be a draw. James knew the tongue was a dangerous body part; I wonder what he would say today about the thumbs?

In this information age, words bombard us constantly—texting, voice mail, email, advertising, radio, podcasts... But we’ve come to expect everyone to have an agenda. We expect misinformation and deceit, even from respectable and reputable sources. In fact, we only consider a source reputable and reliable if we agree with it. That is why teachers especially have to be careful in their words. We have to keep our reputation for wisdom in our words, for truth in our speech. As Paul reminds us, we are to “let no evil talk come out of [our] mouths, but only what is useful for building up.” It is the job of teachers then, to teach others how to think for themselves and discern what is evil and what is useful, what is truth and what is deceitful. It’s not simply a relaying of information to be spat back at the appropriate time. This is a foundational belief of Presbyterianism, and one that has not always been popular with the general public. There are many people who do not want to have to think about their faith. They want it in black and white, rote answers that they can indeed spit at people who do not agree with them. Their tongues become weapons, using proof-texting and verse-citing to provide evidence that they are in the right (and of course, in converse, that others are wrong.)

When we speak aloud, as James so adeptly points out, our tongues, so small in size, can create large-scale disasters. It’s a daunting thought. I can feel the sweat on my brow bead up as I go on. The tongue, so small in size, can be like the tiny spark that sets off huge forest fires in the California wilderness. A slip of the tongue, an illustration misunderstood and many of you might walk out of here with the wrong impression. And as all preachers know and fear, it is always the mistakes that are remembered. We could make the most profound revelation, but one small Freudian slip and that’s what your mind will grasp and take home. And those are the things that we cannot recall, cannot slurp back into our mouths, or call a do-over. How much worse do we make things when we try to over-explain, try to re-cast the mold even after the plaster has hardened? It only makes the mistake that much more obvious in the end.

In the recent movie ‘Doubt,’ starring Meryl Streep and Philip Seymour Hoffman, Streep’s character, the principal of a Catholic parochial school, goes on a crusade to expel the popular parish priest played by Hoffman, based only on the rumors of a young idealistic fellow nun that the priest has taken a special interest in a young boy student. She takes that to mean something more than it perhaps should. Rumors are spread, lives are destroyed and words do irreparable damage. There is a scene at the end, where one of the characters is seen taking a pillowcase of feathers to a rooftop and releasing them into the wind. They represent the words that were spoken and can now never be retrieved, no matter how sorry the speaker is for saying them. At the end of the movie is Streep’s character, dour as ever saying, “I have doubts.”

How often does it seem like our tongues have minds of their own, speaking even if our minds have doubts? I remember, as an impulsive child, being reminded often to think before I spoke. We all have times when we wish we could chase down the feathers that have floated off, out of our control. Growing up in the deep south, I learned quickly that words were never to be taken at face value. So often, what might sound like a compliment, was meant to be the opposite, yet said with a syrupy sweetness that belied the gall underneath. How many of you have ever used the duplicitous phrase, “Well, bless her sweet little heart?” Yeah, you know what it means, what it really means.

James knew well that no matter how much praise you offer a person, the one harsh word spoken, even in a heated moment, will be the one remembered. He knows full well that none of us can control our speech at all times, otherwise, he says, we’d be perfect. But that is why he warns us to constantly be careful of letting our tongues wag, lest we wish we could take back the words spoken. It can both bless and curse, he says. But he also says that this is not the way it should be. Should a spring yield both fresh and brackish water? Of course not! Our language says so much about who we are inside that what comes out of us represents what is in our souls. The same is true of the church. What people hear us say, and even the way we say it, represents who we are when we are inside these walls.

Even today, the most frequent reason cited by those who steer clear of churches is the duplicity of Christians. Hypocrites is the word used most often. “If God’s word does not show up in the flesh of a congregation—if those who hear the word do not also incarnate the word—then the tongue has worked a wicked spell on them.” But we also must be careful not to indulge in glib speech in the church, making what is difficult sound easy, or what is mysterious sound plain.

Whether we mean to or not, we construct worlds with our speech. Describing a world we see, we often mistake it for the whole world. Like the three blind men describing an elephant. It is hard and cool and smooth, said the one feeling the tusk. No, it is warm and wrinkled and tough said the one feeling the leg. No, no, it is rough and hairy and keeps moving, said the one feeling the twitchy tail. Yet we still make meaning of what we see and proceed to conflate this with God’s meaning. Then we behave according to this world we have constructed with our speech, even when that causes us to dismiss or harm those who construe the world differently.

For teachers and others in authority, the danger lies in the perilous combination of authority on the one hand and misused, damaging speech or erroneous claims on the other. The reason James aims this cautionary text at teachers is because teachers and other leaders will be held liable not only for their own follies but also for the errors that their students assimilate and pass on. The more authority the person speaking has, the more likely that people will take their words for truth and also pass them on to others as such. If we as teachers and leaders are not careful in what we say, can we expect that those of whom we teach and lead will be any better?

Our words let people know how we feel, what we think, what we believe—well, at least sometimes. Presbyterians do fairly well at living in a Christian way most of the time, but much less frequently do we do as well talking about our faith and beliefs. We love to tell people that we’re different due to our government or our worship style or how welcoming we are, but rarely do we love to tell them what our confessions say and what our doctrine declares. That’s the hard part about being a teacher, for as powerful as words are, sometimes finding the right ones to articulate the mysteries of God and our faith prove immensely difficult.

We say that we’d rather live our faith than speak of it; we say that actions speak louder than words, but truthfully, not much when it comes to our faith. It is James who says several times that faith divorced from works is useless. But works without faith is just philanthropy. And this isn’t just an internal faith, this is a shared faith, a faith that uses words to communicate with others what we believe and how our lives have been affected by our faith in Christ. See, the tongue, for as much trouble as it can get us in, can also be useful for building up. As far back as the garden of Eden, the tongue was meant for praising God. And as people made in the image of God, I’d go so far as to say it was meant for praising each other as well. But as James points out, in the same breath, we can sing praise to God and demean those made in God’s likeness.

It is easy to see why James has such strong words of warning against the tongue. Forget karate chops and judo kicks, the tongue is the body part that can do more damage more quickly than any other. Yet, “if we dedicate our tongues to the language of God, our actions will follow. Our tongues, which bless and curse, can also ask for forgiveness. Teachers are not perfect, but must choose words carefully, because God has given us authority to build up for the body of Christ.”[i] And make no mistake, we are all teachers in the priesthood of all believers. So let us choose words that are useful for building up, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness. Amen.

---

[i] Feasting on the Word, Yr. B, vol. 4, p. 66

Together again and catching up

So glad that P is home! I know he had a great time and the pictures were awesome. But just having an extra pair of hands to help with the girls makes such a difference. Getting back into a routine that is familiar is good. On the other hand, it does make things seem a little more chaotic to have one more person coming and going again and to have to work schedules around.
First week of school went great. L doesn't even say 'bye to me, just goes right to her seat and talks to her friends. Honestly, that's the way it should be. She's not timid about it at all. Or really about anything. She continually amazes me.
A friend/colleague and I are starting up a lunch for the women ministers in our presbytery this week. Can't wait to see who comes and how it goes. Hope it fun! ('course, we're meeting at a beer garden/restaurant, so it can't go too terribly bad!)

three cheers for courtesy

The Saga:
Starts back in May when I take L's forms and such to her school to register her for Kindergarten. Have to take in a medical form with physical and shot record. Ok, got it from her pediatrician, good to go. They take it. I leave, believing all is in order.
Fast forward to this past Thursday. It's orientation day. We go meet the teacher, find her room, etc. See a note on the door with kids who need to stop by the nurse's office. My kid is on that list. WTF? Ok, we go, we wait, we get our turn. They want a more up-to-date form or supposedly she can't come on Tues. Wait. It's Thursday, you want it by Tuesday and Monday's a holiday. WTF?! Every parent in the school with a kid who has a summer b-day is probably in the same boat. Why the hell didn't you tell me I'd need a more recent one when I was there in May? You looked at the date on it, you could have said, "she'll need an up-to-date form before school starts." I'd have asked for the form when we were there to have her check-up, no problem. That gives them time to fill it out.
Well, I'm a little unhappy, to say the least. especially having only 1.5 business days notice to fix this issue. But, we stop by the doctor's office on the way home to request the form, I explain and the nice lady behind the desk says it's usually a 72 hour turn around for med. forms. I try not to cry, and politely ask if there is a way to hurry this, as I would actually like for my child not to miss her first day of school (ok, so I would have taken her anyway and let them figure it out later) but she says I can check back at the end of the day on Friday.
So I do. I'm polite and kind and I guess that is not something that a lot of parents have been to those ladies that day. What do I get for keeping my head and using some manners? A nurse staying a few minutes late to complete the form for me and I walk out the door with form in hand on Friday. Totally worth it. :)

gonna be a long week and other random musing

Just as I predicted, the week P is gone hiking in UT, M starts working on her upper teeth--well, I'm pretty sure that's the case, anyhow. Fussy for no seeming reason, Tylenol helps, etc.--all the usual signs.
I just don't know how single moms do it. I've only been sans hubby for 2 days and I'm already going nuts. Even just the few minutes here and there of relief he provides from a 5 year old who can't.stop.talking or giving the baby her bottle when my hands are full, well, I'm grateful.
To top it all off, I'm super low energy, having been diagnosed with walking pneumonia the day before he left. I can tell the superdrugs are working since I can breathe a little deeper without it hurting now, but the lung capacity is still lower than usual and it takes more energy to walk up and down the stairs, much less carrying an 18+ lb. baby chubbette in my arms.
Laundry is trying to take over the house. Can't seem to make it go downstairs by itself either. Gathering up L's laundry is like a scavenger hunt. I don't remember what color the carpet in her room is these days. I try to get to pick up a bit every night before bed, but it just explodes again during the day.
I am so anxious about L's first day of school. She's super excited--it's my own childhood anxieties surfacing that make me nervous. You know, the old mess-up-in-school-and-flush-your-life-goodbye sort of worries. We got a Tinkerbell backpack and a Barbie lunch bag, all the other usual school supplies. Then we had fun decorating her pencil box with jewel stickers and glitter letters for her name. We bought her a first-day-of-school outfit, though what she'll decide she wants to wear that morning is anybody's guess. Can't wait to see how she does. I think she'll have a great time and love being with the other kids and learning new things; she's certainly a smart girl.

"We Want More!"

A sermon on the gospel lesson for Ordinary 17, Yr.B

John 6:24-35

by rivkah

“There was a name in nineteenth-century China, and perhaps all over Asia, for persons who came to church because they were hungry for material food. They converted, were baptized, joined the church, and remained active members as long as their physical needs were met through the generosity of the congregation. But once their prospects improved and they and their families no longer needed rice, they drifted away from the church. Hence, missionaries called them “rice Christians.”[i]

Obviously this is not a new phenomenon. Ever since Jesus miraculously fed the 5000 seated on the hill, he has had this crowd of people following him around, rather like a pack of stray dogs hoping for some stray crumbs to be dropped. They are fixated only on where their next meal will come from. Rather odd, wouldn’t you say, for people who had just witnessed such a miracle as the one they themselves were part of. “But these were the ones who saw the feeding miracle as an end in itself rather than the sign it was meant to be...”[ii]

They don’t realize that this miracle points to something beyond itself. Upon first witnessing the miracle feeding, they want to haul Jesus off and crown him king. THIS was what they wanted in a Messiah, someone who could feed them, make it so they wouldn’t have to work for their food, make life a little easier. They have been satisfied physically and so their eyes are fixed only on physical things. They have no idea that there is much more at stake.

Jesus and his disciples have finally gotten a much needed break on the other side of the sea when the crowd realizes he’s slipped off. They go searching for him and when they find him, they complain that he has left them. “When did you come here?” In other words, “Why aren’t you where we left you, so we could find you again?” But Jesus knows they have not come to find the one who could fill their souls. They have come to find the one who had filled their bellies.

It is a slavering beast, this crowd. Hunger in their eyes. The hungry crowd wants more. More bread. More to eat. They are worried more about the immediacy of their stomachs than the future of their spiritual lives. But Jesus tries to explain to them that they are merely wasting their time coming after him in this fashion. “You’ve followed me around all over the countryside, hoping for more bread and never realizing you’re going after things that will mold and spoil. Don’t follow me around for barley loaves that merely fill you, follow me for the bread that will fulfill you, not just for a few hours, but for eternity. This is the bread that God has sent to you”

Well, they hear ‘follow,’ and ‘God,’ and thinking they have the right idea, want some clarification, just to be sure. “Ok, how can we follow God?” or as John puts it, “What must we do to perform the works of God?” They are so eager to please their Master that they don’t fully listen and understand what he is saying before jumping in with more questions, entirely missing the point of Jesus’ words. Now, from everything I’ve read, I’m pretty sure that Jesus was a really patient guy, but I think he must be rolling his eyes at these folks about now.

So, he tries to put it as simply as possible. “The work of God is to believe in him whom God has sent.” Couldn’t be easier, just believe, right? Their eyes brighten at this thought. “Oh! We can do that,” they think. “And then maybe he’ll give us more bread.” They want to get it right, I really think they do. They just don’t know how. Their eyes were just not opened to the higher meaning in Jesus’ words. So they eagerly ask him, “What sign will do give us so that we can see and believe?” Then the synapses fire and they remember another time when God had sent food for their people. And wanting to show off their smarty pants, they remind Jesus, “Our ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written, ‘He gave them bread from heaven to eat,’”

I can’t help it, but every time I read about Jesus telling someone, “Very truly I tell you,” I picture him doing a big ol’ forehead smack. It always precedes something that should be painfully obvious, but that the listener in the story just doesn’t seem to get. A lot of Christians today actually miss that the ‘he’ who gave the manna to the people in the wilderness was referring to Moses, not God in that verse. That is why Jesus points out to them that it was not actually Moses who gave them the bread, but God. “It was God who gave the bread that satisfied their hunger for one day only. The same God now gives them bread from heaven that will satisfy forever.”[iii]

Forever. That’s a hard concept to wrap our heads around. And bread that would satisfy forever. There must have been more than a few bemused souls in the crowd that day, hearing about bread that would last forever. Perhaps even many of us are still a bit befuddled at the idea. But this line is just the beginning of John’s exposition on what it means for Jesus to be the bread of life. We’ll hear more about this in the next few coming weeks. But in this passage, Jesus just introduces us to the idea. Plants the seed.

“For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world,” he explains. This isn’t just manna. It’s far more than food we can chew and swallow and eat our fill of. It even goes beyond the miracle of the food that lasts only a day, that no one can hoard. It’s very appropriate that the Israelites reaction the first time they see the bread from heaven called manna is to say, “What is it?” It’s quite a similar reaction to the one people have when first meeting the bread from heaven named Jesus. “Who are you? What are you?” There is a distinct lack of understanding that God is providing for them exactly what they need at that time. The Israelites needed food for their bellies and God provided manna in abundance. The Jews needed food for their souls and God provided Christ in abundance.

We who already know the story understand that Jesus was sent by God to fulfill God’s promise of everlasting life. We know that his body and blood are the food and drink of eternity. Yet in the text for next week we will see the confusion deepen as Jesus tries to explain this to the people and they can not get past the literality of seeming cannibalism—with a couple more, “very truly” forehead smacks from Jesus thrown in.

Miracles, in the Fourth Gospel, do not easily bring faith to those who witness them, but more often confusion, division, and hostility. These ‘rice Christians’ following Jesus that day are more than a little confused. They want the free food, the handouts. They think they understand about the manna when Jesus brings up bread from heaven. Ah, now we get it. Miracle food, or dare I say it, “wonder bread.” He’s got their interest. But they’re so sure they’ve got his number that they don’t really listen to the rest of what he says. “It is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.”

Yes, yes, they think. Bread coming down from heaven—that’s manna, we know about that, we get it. That’s what we want. Never have to plant or harvest or knead or bake again. But they miss the essential word, the last word of that phrase. This bread gives life to the world—not just a few, not just Israelites and their descendants—the world. Yet, thinking they’ve got this mystery sewn up, they get a little ahead of themselves. “Sir,” they say, “give us this bread always.”

What we know that they don’t know is the cost of eating this bread. This crowd that is so enthusiastic about following Jesus around when they think he will feed them with barley loaves and fish, quickly disperses when thing heat up with the Pharisees. Fair weather friends, indeed. And as we know, even Peter will deny Jesus three times when the going really gets tough. Yes, eating the bread of heaven is harder than it sounds. Towards the end of chapter six, even Christ’s closest disciples admit that these teachings about the eating the body and blood are difficult. Many more people turn away from following him at this point, shaking their heads as if to release these difficult and perhaps dangerous teachings they’ve heard.

But today, this crowd is still eager, wanting this bread that they think Jesus is offering to them. But he has one more curve ball to throw at them. A crux so important that the lectionary pulls it back in as the first line in next week’s text. He tells them, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.” Now whoever chose to stop the lectionary here must have a flair for the dramatic. It just stops right there at one of the most well known verses in John or even in all the gospels. Can’t you just hear the collective intake of breath as what he’s just said sinks into the minds of the crowd? We’re left at this cliff hanger, not knowing what the reaction of the crowd is to such an astonishing statement. It’s an outrageous claim.

And of course, they still don’t really understand. Perhaps they think they misheard him. “I am the bread of life? No, he must have said, I have the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry. That makes much more sense.” Their misunderstandings will be clarified next week, when we find out just, in fact, how difficult they begin to realize his teachings are.

So difficult that even John does not attempt to explain them in full. He lets us linger in the mystery of the body and blood for about half of this long chapter. John knows that to endeavor to explain this mystery would be to do it a great injustice. As John Calvin once said when asked to explain the Eucharist, “I would rather experience it than to understand it.” And indeed, “to feed upon the truth who is Jesus Christ, to find primary sustenance in him, is better even than to understand him.”[iv]

So we are left at this climax. The crowd who has been seeking out bread for their bellies, believing that they have witnessed the same sort of manna miracle as their ancestors, now get the shock of discovering that Jesus himself is the bread that they seek. Will they be ‘rice Christians?” Or perhaps “barley Christians” would be more apt. Will they simply drift away as so many of us do when the good feelings aren’t there anymore, when our own wants and desires aren’t being fulfilled, never mind what it is that we truly need.

Or will they stay, will we stay, and learn more about what it means for Christ to be the bread of life? Will we stay to hear more about how we can be fulfilled, rather than just filled, never to hunger or thirst again? Will we stay and feast on this bread of life? I invite you now, come to the table, come and feast! Amen.

[i] Sparks, O. Benjamin. "John 6:24-35, Pastoral Perspective" Feasting on the Word. Year B, Vol. 3. Westminster John Knox Press. Louisville, KY, 2009.

[ii] ibid.

[iii] ibid.

[iv]Willimon, William H. "John 6:24-35, Homiletical Perspective " Feasting on the Word. Year B, Vol. 3. Westminster John Knox Press. Louisville, KY, 2009.

R & R

Quite the inspiration, holding a sleeping baby in my arms while I contemplate Mark's passage on the disciples' need of a break (Mark 6: 30-34, 53-56)...
We all need a break, especially those of us in ministry. Just like sleeping babies, we need to 'sleep' so we can grow, turn off from the (over)stimulation of the world, and awaken hungry again. Being passed around from person to person, having to constantly adapt to new faces and situations is tough and emotionally (and even often physically) exhausting. People constantly getting in or putting things in your face to get a reaction out of you (good or bad)--it's a lot to deal with. We need to rest.
Conversely, it's the people following Jesus around who are like infants insofar as they are needy and helpless, crying out for healing. And just like a mother feeding her child in the middle of the night, no matter how tired she is, she can't resist (or tune out!) the child's cries of hunger and need. Jesus would no more ignore those people's needs than a parent would ignore their baby's. No matter how dirty the diaper, it has to be changed!
The line that struck me in my original reading was the line "...there was no time even for them to eat." Yeah, I so know how that feels. I don't even have a school-aged kid until the fall, but all of our comings and goings make it hard to get everyone around the table at once.
I remember from elementary social studies, the 3 basic human needs--food, clothing, & shelter. Food, a basic human need, and yet we so often put it off for other things. I could go off on a whole 'nuther rant about our Fast Food Nation, but I won't. You can see where it would head from here, I think.
I want to explore in this week's sermon the way the feeding of the 5,000 is sandwiched by this week's reading. Mark is actually quite the literary genius, leading us into this massive feast of loaves and fishes with the disciples lack of time for a meal. I imagine they were quite cranky and tired, having also just come off their journey made in pairs to the outlying regions. I know I get cranky when my blood sugar is low; I know my baby girl doesn't like it when her feeding gets delayed for whatever reason. How must they have felt to see Jesus delaying again, even though it was getting late?
It is hard to form a sermon without wanting to say, "This is what being a follower is all about, putting aside our own needs for those of others." Well, yes, but... But we need to have a time for rest and renewal. Even Jesus had to get away at times (napping in the boat, alone in the garden, etc.). We can't do effective ministry if we aren't getting our basic needs met, if we aren't at least rested and well-fed. And like babies, we will better thrive if we are also loved and hugged and adored occasionally.
Take a minute for yourself this week, don't put off caring for others, but do try to find that moment of peace. Let yourself be cared for like a small child, for we all are children of God.

"God in Between"

I thought is was about time that I got back into the habit of posting my sermons. I don't mind if you borrow them, though I'd like credit even though I admit that these words are not strictly mine, but rather my own interpretation of words given to me by the Spirit.

Disclosure: This title is shamelessly borrowed from a children's story written by Sandi Eisenburg Sasso

Scriptures: 1 Samuel 15:34-16:13, 2 Cor. 5:6-17, Mark 4:26-34

"God in Between"

Have any of you ever grown mint? From seed? The mint seed is the tiniest seed that I’ve ever come across. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a mustard seed to compare it to, but mint seeds are very, very tiny. Now if you’ve ever planted mint, even from an already started plant from the store, you know how invasive it can be, taking over everything if not kept in check. It becomes a wild, untamed mass of fragrant green leaves, invading spots you had saved for other plants. All from a seed about the size of one of the periods in your bulletin. Or think about a baby. My pediatrician said that babies M’s age gain half to one ounce every day! It is certainly a miracle to watch her grow and change. You all here in -- don’t seem to have much kudzu, but in --, we couldn’t get away from it. Someone once told me that in the heat of summer, kudzu can grow up to 18 inches in one day. You could almost sit and watch that kind of growth take place right in front of you!

This unbelievable, miraculous kind of growth is what Jesus is talking about when he references the mustard seed. This tiny seed, growing into a shrub almost tree-size. Birds can build nests in it and animals can find shade under its leaves. And this, he says, is like the kingdom of heaven. The evidence starts small, but with God’s care, it grows into a huge, sheltering, nurturing tree. One that provides nourishment and security. God takes the smallest seed and transforms it into a great plant that provides sustenance for all.

I’ve heard plenty of pastors use this parable to encourage evangelism and growth in their churches. “Go out, make this seed grow,” they exhort. But I actually think they’ve missed the point. Jesus isn’t talking about earthly things here. He’s talking about the kingdom of heaven—that part, at least, he says plainly. But if we look at the mustard seed parable up next to the parable of the farmer that Jesus tells in conjunction with it, we see that the farmer doesn’t even know how the seed grows. The farmer has so little to do with making the seed grow that in the parable the farmer sleeps through the process of sprouting and maturation.

But truthfully, we don’t need to know how. We just have to trust that God is doing what God promised (and God always does!). While in Matthew, we are admonished to have faith the size of a mustard seed, Mark makes no such admonition. In Mark, the parable is, plain and simple, about the kingdom that provides saving space way beyond our imagining. The parable is not about us, but about the grace of God. “We are freed from the burden of determining the harvest, of assuming that our successes or failures hasten or deter God’s plans.” We plant the seed and reap the harvest, but God does the ‘in between’ work. No matter our efforts, the harvest will come. We have to depend on God for germination, water, sun, etc.

As with the mustard seed, the smallest seed becomes the greatest shrub. In order to be fulfilling its mission, the church must produce some sort of growth, though that doesn’t have to be measured in numbers. Some people think the only way to measure a church’s growth (hear ‘success’) is by new members. I disagree. It can be measured by the church’s outreach, if they are adopting new programs, if they are increasing pledge gifts, if they are getting out more in their community, if they are finding new ways to spread the word about God’s coming kingdom. All of these are ways to measure church growth and success. We start these programs and trust that God will bring them to fulfillment in making new disciples.

The initial evidence of the kingdom may seem small, but the ultimate results are great. If we believe that this is how God does things, then what do we do? We will begin to look for the mustard seeds. We will look for the first signs of the kingdom with faith and optimism. We will not be too quick to dismiss the small and insignificant. We will not give up on ourselves, on others, on the church, or even on the world just because we see many signs of sin and brokenness. Rather, we will believe in God’s possibilities even if the evidence is as tiny as a mustard seed.

Consider David, youngest of Jesse’s sons, so insignificant that his father didn’t even call him in from the fields when a convening of his sons was requested by Samuel. He wasn’t the eldest, he wasn’t the tallest, or even the fairest, yet he was the chosen. He becomes one of the greatest and most beloved kings of Israel. Even when all the others, including Samuel, were shocked at his anointing, God already sees David’s potential and has great plans for him in the life of his chosen people, Israel.

God sees in us what we cannot see from the outside. Turns out, it’s not a beauty pageant. And we see that displayed in the life of Christ. Jesus always sees the potential in others. Their potential to be healed, to be whole, to be redeemed. Intimacy with Christ grows in us as certainly and effortlessly as seeds grow. We have so little to do with Christ’s nearness to us that we can just go to sleep as the gardener did. This trust, so deep that we can sleep without anxiety is much more useful to us than fussing over the little seed: dousing it with pesticide, repotting it, clucking anxiously over the amount of sun it has. The kingdom is like this sleepy, restful trust.

Trouble is, we like to be busy, productive, to feel like we’re being useful. Being busy and dogmatic makes sense to us. It fits with our normal way of being human. We achieve all sorts of goods by working hard and committing ourselves to our values. These are mostly reasonable things, and certainly nothing useful would happen if we did not work for it or if we remained indifferent to moral and political issues. It’s just that this way of operating is not like the kingdom of God. The harvest will come without us having to work for it, because God adores us and it is this love that is the power of growth.

God will not fail to fulfill the promise of salvation. It is already coming to be in this world—like the seed sown in the earth, or the remarkable growth of the tree from the mustard seed, silently but powerfully coming to be. The harvest will happen in God’s way and in God’s time. Meanwhile, we plant the seeds and wait for them to grow. We watch with patience and marvel at the first sprouts. Then we pray for rain and sun from God’s hand and joyfully reap the fruits of the harvest when they are mature.

As Paul tells the Corinthians, we walk by faith and not by sight. Or at least we try to. It isn’t easy for humans to hand over all control of the outcome. Yet faith demands that we do just that. Once we plant the seed, we can’t see what happens under the ground, we have to wait until we see the first sprouts. But we trust that God is always at work, even inside that tiny seed, planted deep in the dark earth.

It is yet another of God’s mysteries, like that of the Trinity, which we spoke of last week. This parable reminds us that God is full of mysteries and surprises. And in an age when we learn more and more with science and technology, all of the mystery and surprise seems to be getting squeezed out of our collective consciousness. If it isn’t tangible or quantifiable or calculable, it must not Be. But Jesus asks us in this parable not to close our imaginations too quickly.

Think about seeds he says. You don’t know how they grow into grain or fruit or trees or flowers. You just plant them and leave them until harvest time. It’s a mystery, an amazing mystery. Or the tiny mustard seed. How does that teeny, tiny seed grow into such an enormous plant? We can’t understand the kingdom of God any more than we can understand how a seed grows. But we can know that God is up to something in between the time we plant and the time we harvest. We can see the sprouts, the leaves, the fruit. It isn’t until then, though, that we can see the plants potential. God, on the other hand, can see the potential in the smallest of seeds right from the start before it even makes it to the soil.

So pray now that our eyes can be like the eyes of God, that we will be able to see the potential in all of God’s children and welcome them into the corner of the kingdom that we have right here at SPC. The kingdom will come, in God’s time and in God’s way; we believe that God will do the ‘in between’ work, allowing us the planting and the harvest. So get your gloves on, grab your trowel and rake, and… wait. Wait for the miraculous potential to break forth from the power of God. Amen.

new things

Wow! Hadn't realized how long it's been. Since before my maternity leave even. I've been back for two weeks now. It's been a fairly easy transition. Baby M is with me for the summer in the office until big sis goes to kindergarten in the fall. (Just can't afford two kids in child care at once!) She's done very well and I am able to work around her easily with a few simple tweaks in my time management.
Not to say that I'm not keeping busy. Summer is usually a slow time of year with people going on vacations and such, but right now I'm looking at planning for the officer training and retreat at the end of the summer, and best of all, welcoming five new members and officiating a couple of baptisms. What a joy!