There might be a deeper problem embedded in our nation's financial crisis, said Dr. Michael Kerr, Director of the Bowen Center for the Study of the Family, at a conference at Pacific Lutheran University, Feb. 12-13. The problem? Chronic anxiety that has led to regressive behavior.
I heard Dr. Kerr speak last week at the conference celebrating the 40th anniversary of Consulatation to Clergy in Region 1, a resource for ELCA and Missouri Synod clergy and congregations. Kerr is an expert in Bowen family systems theory that looks at how an individual functions within a system. It's very a helpful system for learning more about self and how we function in families and congregations. I've been through a Bowen family system theory workshop; I do not exaggerate when I say it has totally re-shaped how I relate to my family and congregation.
Anyway, Bowen theory has several concepts. One of them is regression: "If chronic anxiety escalates in a relationship system, the system becomes dominated by less thoughtful and more reactive ways of interacting that are older in an evolutionary sense than the advanced complex behaviors of a well-functioning relationship system."
In other words, when we get anxious, our brains shift into neutral and we react more emotionally, less rationally. Ever seen this in someone? How about yourself?
Regression isn't just for indivuduals, it happens to larger groups, like a whole nation. Kerr suggests the US is in a period of regression. He points to manifestations of emotoinally-driven regression: violence, we-they factions, polarizations, litigation, teen pregnancies, focus on rights, fundamentalism, quick-fix legislation, and terrorism. While statistics for these may vary on the month or year, these concerns have been part of our national reality for some time.
What causes a regression? Some suggest a period of abundance. Consider this example from the Galapagos Islands. During an El Nino deluge of rain one year, the islands produced an abundance of caterpillars which were eaten in abundance by ground finches. The finches behavior changed at this good fortune. Researchers said "the birds went crazy" and there was a "copulating frenzy." Females produced more eggs than they could care for, "teen" females were getting pregnant, males staked out poor territories but got females anyway, some females abandoned their eggs, and other manner of odd behavior.
Apparently, the birds couldn't handle the abunance. They failed to self-regulate.
Our country has been in a period of abundance. How did we handle it? Did we indeed fail to self-regulate?
Fear not, I'll not leave this post on such a downer. What's the cure for chronic anxiety? Well, perhaps it's not a cure but there is a way to mediate anxiety. Physician, know thyself! Seriously, it's time for a little introspection. Get quiet. Get thoughtful. Bowen theory suggests the way to deal with anxiety is to connect to the self, the deeper self and operate from that place.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Monday, February 02, 2009
Living the Questions
(The following comments are from my sermon at Central, preached Sunday, 2/01/09)
When I was thinking about going to seminary, I asked a pastor who was also a mentor if he learned the answers to complex theological questions. "No," he replied, "I just learned to ask better questions."
Sunday's gospel (2/01/09) from Mark 1 finds Jesus in a synagogue teaching with authority, not like the scribes, Mark is careful to point out. The lecture is interrupted by a man possesed with an unclean spirit. Jesus casts out the demon and everyone is amazed. They start asking, and kept asking, questions. "What is this? A new teaching? With authority!"
There are a lot of questions floating around out there. I saw a Thrivent (Financial for Lutherans) representative last week and he said he's getting questions like, "Why didn't we see this [economic downturn/recession] coming?" As if he knows the answer! The recession leads to tough questions: How much longer must I postpone retirement? How do I deal with the anger of losing %40 of my investments? What do I do when I can't pay the heating bill/mortgage/credit card?
We've been asking tough questions at Central lately. Can we afford four full-time staf? Can we afford a full-time youth director? (We've decided yes, at least for now, but these questions were asked during the budgeting cycle.)
Other questions rise up: Why is our attendance dropping? How can we attract more young people and families? Why do people sometimes feel disconnected from each other at Central? Why is it so hard to find volunteers? Why is everyone so busy?
Back to our gospel. The man with the unclean spirit clearly had a problem but didn't ask Jesus for help. Maybe he was so possesed that he couldn't find the words. Yet he dared bring his unclean self into the holiest place in Capernaum on the holiest day of the week. He made no request. He just placed himself in front of the Son of God. And Jesus healed him, restoring the man not just to health but back into community.
When we question God, each other, ourselves or our mission as disciples, I wonder if we can be so brave: place ourselves in front of Christ. Could we do so even without agenda or expectation? Could we come before God in quiet hope, in open desire to follow?
Perhaps this is the way, as the poet Rilke says, to "live the questions." Rilke continues: "Try to love the questions themselve, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language. Do not look now for the answers. They cannot now be given to you because you could not live them. It is a question of experiencing everything. At present you need to live the question. Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself expereincing the answer, some distant day."
Amen.
When I was thinking about going to seminary, I asked a pastor who was also a mentor if he learned the answers to complex theological questions. "No," he replied, "I just learned to ask better questions."
Sunday's gospel (2/01/09) from Mark 1 finds Jesus in a synagogue teaching with authority, not like the scribes, Mark is careful to point out. The lecture is interrupted by a man possesed with an unclean spirit. Jesus casts out the demon and everyone is amazed. They start asking, and kept asking, questions. "What is this? A new teaching? With authority!"
There are a lot of questions floating around out there. I saw a Thrivent (Financial for Lutherans) representative last week and he said he's getting questions like, "Why didn't we see this [economic downturn/recession] coming?" As if he knows the answer! The recession leads to tough questions: How much longer must I postpone retirement? How do I deal with the anger of losing %40 of my investments? What do I do when I can't pay the heating bill/mortgage/credit card?
We've been asking tough questions at Central lately. Can we afford four full-time staf? Can we afford a full-time youth director? (We've decided yes, at least for now, but these questions were asked during the budgeting cycle.)
Other questions rise up: Why is our attendance dropping? How can we attract more young people and families? Why do people sometimes feel disconnected from each other at Central? Why is it so hard to find volunteers? Why is everyone so busy?
Back to our gospel. The man with the unclean spirit clearly had a problem but didn't ask Jesus for help. Maybe he was so possesed that he couldn't find the words. Yet he dared bring his unclean self into the holiest place in Capernaum on the holiest day of the week. He made no request. He just placed himself in front of the Son of God. And Jesus healed him, restoring the man not just to health but back into community.
When we question God, each other, ourselves or our mission as disciples, I wonder if we can be so brave: place ourselves in front of Christ. Could we do so even without agenda or expectation? Could we come before God in quiet hope, in open desire to follow?
Perhaps this is the way, as the poet Rilke says, to "live the questions." Rilke continues: "Try to love the questions themselve, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language. Do not look now for the answers. They cannot now be given to you because you could not live them. It is a question of experiencing everything. At present you need to live the question. Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself expereincing the answer, some distant day."
Amen.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Lament on a day of joy
Jan. 20, 2009: The inaguration of Barack Obama as the 44th president of the United States, Washington, D.C.
Jan. 19-21, 2009: ELCA Preaching conference on lament, Cannon Beach, Oregon.
Good thing I'm Lutheran and can hold two opposites in tension. While for some, this day may be a day of sadness (McCain supporters, Republicans, etc) for me this was a day of joy, hope and pride in our nation. I'm gathered in this Oregon beach town with 100 or so Lutheran pastors to discuss how to preach in times of lament and sadness (a theme picked a year ago for this conference). I'm glad the speakers at least acknowledged the irony, as many of us are very happy to see this day come.
We watched the inaguration and Obama's speech together on a big screen in our conference room. I've never seen Lutheran pastors sit still for so long. People nodded and said "Amen" as Obama spoke. I wept. We clapped and stood when it was over. We clapped some more for the poet and the preacher who followed Obama.
Then, instead of delving back into Jeremiah and the Psalms of sadness, we talked about how joy and sorow, lament and praise often go together. Our Psalms do suggest this: most lament psalms have at least a few verses of praise, usually at the end. We know it's true in our own lives. Sometimes we curse and thank God in the same breath. We find ways to be joyful even on dark days.
So we passed a microphone around and talked about where we saw joy and lament collide this day.
One person noted that Obama listed our nation's lament. He acknowledged the pain in our nation: people losing jobs, fighting two wars, those who have lost their homes. Someone else pointed out that the opening and closing prayers had aspects of repentence and confession, which are lament-like but lead to new life and new hope.
Another pastor acknowledged that while many people in our congregations feel like an 8-year lament is over, others strongly feel a period of sadness is beginning. How do we stay at the table and honor their words of lament over a change of power in the administration? Someone else also mentioned the grief and lament that George Bush must be feeling.
One thought I'm left with: my generation (X) and the one after it (Y) have little experience with corporate lament or corporate joy. We felt this first at 9/11 when we mourned together. I think many of us feel the shared joy now at this promise of new hope in our country's leadership. Perhaps the best part is that we feel it together. May this national pride lead to unity of purpose and maybe, just maybe, a small step away from our tendancy toward so-called "rugged individualism."
Jan. 19-21, 2009: ELCA Preaching conference on lament, Cannon Beach, Oregon.
Good thing I'm Lutheran and can hold two opposites in tension. While for some, this day may be a day of sadness (McCain supporters, Republicans, etc) for me this was a day of joy, hope and pride in our nation. I'm gathered in this Oregon beach town with 100 or so Lutheran pastors to discuss how to preach in times of lament and sadness (a theme picked a year ago for this conference). I'm glad the speakers at least acknowledged the irony, as many of us are very happy to see this day come.
We watched the inaguration and Obama's speech together on a big screen in our conference room. I've never seen Lutheran pastors sit still for so long. People nodded and said "Amen" as Obama spoke. I wept. We clapped and stood when it was over. We clapped some more for the poet and the preacher who followed Obama.
Then, instead of delving back into Jeremiah and the Psalms of sadness, we talked about how joy and sorow, lament and praise often go together. Our Psalms do suggest this: most lament psalms have at least a few verses of praise, usually at the end. We know it's true in our own lives. Sometimes we curse and thank God in the same breath. We find ways to be joyful even on dark days.
So we passed a microphone around and talked about where we saw joy and lament collide this day.
One person noted that Obama listed our nation's lament. He acknowledged the pain in our nation: people losing jobs, fighting two wars, those who have lost their homes. Someone else pointed out that the opening and closing prayers had aspects of repentence and confession, which are lament-like but lead to new life and new hope.
Another pastor acknowledged that while many people in our congregations feel like an 8-year lament is over, others strongly feel a period of sadness is beginning. How do we stay at the table and honor their words of lament over a change of power in the administration? Someone else also mentioned the grief and lament that George Bush must be feeling.
One thought I'm left with: my generation (X) and the one after it (Y) have little experience with corporate lament or corporate joy. We felt this first at 9/11 when we mourned together. I think many of us feel the shared joy now at this promise of new hope in our country's leadership. Perhaps the best part is that we feel it together. May this national pride lead to unity of purpose and maybe, just maybe, a small step away from our tendancy toward so-called "rugged individualism."
Monday, January 12, 2009
One-line wisdom
Seen on a shelf at a parishioner's home: (paraphrase)
There is one holy call in life: not to make life harder for other people than it already is.
There is one holy call in life: not to make life harder for other people than it already is.
Monday, January 05, 2009
Christmas in Botswana
Sami Oeser, a member of Central, has been serving in the Peace Corps in Botswana for nearly 2 years. She's working at an orphanage with kids whose lives have been changed by HIV/AIDS (either from infection themselves or orphaned when parents died of AIDS). Here are some excerpts from Sami's Christmas card this year. Enjoy!
Sami writes:
I have learned some valuable lessons from living in Africa, though I'm not sure how applicable they will be in Alaska.
* Always shake out your shoes before putting them on. (You don't even want to know what might be hiding inside!)
* Don't sit under a palm tree (Falling palm nuts are big and heavy!)
* Don't park a car under any tree (goats will climb up on the hood and roof to reach foliage, leaving behind hoof indentations)
* Don't drink any fluids within 10 hours of a journey by bus (The buses have no facilities and don't stop!)
* If it looks like it tastes nasty, it probably does.
I am not alone:
In case any of you think I may be lonely living by myself in Maun, Botswana- fear not. Besides a steady stream of neighbors (especially children, last Friday during a rainstorm, I had 28 kids drawing pictures in my 300 sq. ft. house) I currently reside with 5 cats, several dozen spiders, a score of lizards, myriad cockroaches, beetles, flies, mosquitos, moths, crickets, mopani words and thousands of ants who materialize out of thin art if any scrap of food is left out, and then disappear just as quickly after consuming it. Fortunately, because I live far from the river, and there is little vegetation in my yard, I do not have a snake problem.
Christmas in Maun:
Christmas here goes by almost unnoticed. There are no Christmas trees, no lights and no decorations, save for one lone "Merry Christmas/Happy New Year" sign in teh window of a shop owned by a Hindu couple - go figure). There is no Christmas music and no sales pitches to buy presents. Chrsitmas cards and wrapping paper are very difficult to find. Ribbon is non-existent. But then, most people in my village can't afford to exchange gifts anyway. And instead of snow covered trees, I will be looking out on sun-baked sand.
But just like last year, I will put up the 10-inch Christmas tree that I made from green construction paper, and the African creche I assembled from wood carvings. I will play christmas music (thank goodness I remembered to bring some CDs from home), drink Christmas tea, eat some chocolate (life is good) and thank God for the wonderful support and love I have received this past year from my family and friends.
I hope to see each of you next summer.
Blessings,
Sami
---
If you want to check out the orphanage where Sami works: www.banabaletsatsi.com
Or write to Sami:
Sami Oeser
c/o BBL
Private Bag 114, Suite 55
Maun, Botswana
Sami writes:
I have learned some valuable lessons from living in Africa, though I'm not sure how applicable they will be in Alaska.
* Always shake out your shoes before putting them on. (You don't even want to know what might be hiding inside!)
* Don't sit under a palm tree (Falling palm nuts are big and heavy!)
* Don't park a car under any tree (goats will climb up on the hood and roof to reach foliage, leaving behind hoof indentations)
* Don't drink any fluids within 10 hours of a journey by bus (The buses have no facilities and don't stop!)
* If it looks like it tastes nasty, it probably does.
I am not alone:
In case any of you think I may be lonely living by myself in Maun, Botswana- fear not. Besides a steady stream of neighbors (especially children, last Friday during a rainstorm, I had 28 kids drawing pictures in my 300 sq. ft. house) I currently reside with 5 cats, several dozen spiders, a score of lizards, myriad cockroaches, beetles, flies, mosquitos, moths, crickets, mopani words and thousands of ants who materialize out of thin art if any scrap of food is left out, and then disappear just as quickly after consuming it. Fortunately, because I live far from the river, and there is little vegetation in my yard, I do not have a snake problem.
Christmas in Maun:
Christmas here goes by almost unnoticed. There are no Christmas trees, no lights and no decorations, save for one lone "Merry Christmas/Happy New Year" sign in teh window of a shop owned by a Hindu couple - go figure). There is no Christmas music and no sales pitches to buy presents. Chrsitmas cards and wrapping paper are very difficult to find. Ribbon is non-existent. But then, most people in my village can't afford to exchange gifts anyway. And instead of snow covered trees, I will be looking out on sun-baked sand.
But just like last year, I will put up the 10-inch Christmas tree that I made from green construction paper, and the African creche I assembled from wood carvings. I will play christmas music (thank goodness I remembered to bring some CDs from home), drink Christmas tea, eat some chocolate (life is good) and thank God for the wonderful support and love I have received this past year from my family and friends.
I hope to see each of you next summer.
Blessings,
Sami
---
If you want to check out the orphanage where Sami works: www.banabaletsatsi.com
Or write to Sami:
Sami Oeser
c/o BBL
Private Bag 114, Suite 55
Maun, Botswana
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
The Shack
Apparently, everyone is reading it. "The Shack," by Wm. Paul Young. I'd barely heard of it. I saw it at Costco. I bought it because I was sure it was the next month's book club book. It wasn't. I read it anyway.
The premise (from the book jacket): a young girl, Missy, is abducted on a family camping trip; evidence found in a remote shack suggests she's been murdered. Years later, her father, Mack, receives a note, apparently from God, inviting him back to the shack for a weekend.
If you haven't read it, don't let me spoil it for you. Perhaps you'd best stop reading.
Okay?
I'm pretty suspicious of these pop-culture religious books. I mean, who is this author anyway? Has he read Pannenberg and Tillich? Where's his credentials?
There've been a number of these types of pseudo-religous culture books: Da Vinci Code, The Secret, anything by Joel Osteen, even Oprah qualifies. So I was wary. Got out my Lutheran microscope.
The story is compelling. It's hard to resist being drawn into the character portraits of Mack, wife Nan and their 5 children. The writing is a bit forced with descriptive adjectives but the story line makes up for it.
Mack goes to the shack and finds God. All three of them. (SPOILER ALERT!) God is personified as a large African-American woman who likes to cook, the Spirit is Sarayu, an Asian woman who floats about and emits bright and colorful lights, and Jesus is, well, a Middle Eastern carpenter with a big nose. What did you expect?
I like God in this portrayal. All three of them. I love God as an African American woman who gives big hugs and cooks tasty greens. God also tells Mack she's especially fond of him...and everyone else. I love a God who cooks buttery scones!
During his time with God at the shack, Mack works thorugh his anger and moves toward forgiveness and healing. It's a beautiful journey, with an intriguing portrayal of Sophia, Lady Wisdom. I appreciated the work Mack does around forgiving Missy's killer. We all know (at least in our heads) that holding onto anger only turns our own hearts black.
Mack also learns the nature of God. It's all about dropping personal agendas and trusting in God. Here's a quote of which I am especially fond. Jesus, the Jewish carpenter, is talking to Mack: (p. 181-2)
---------
"Remember, the peple who know me are the ones who are free to live and love without any agenda."
"Is that what it means to be a Christian?" It sounded kind of stupid as Mack said it, but it was how he was trying to sum up everything in his mind.
"Who said anything about being a Christian? I'm not a Christian."
The idea struck Mack as odd and unexpected and he couldn't keep himself from grinning. "No, I suppose you aren't."
They arrived at the door of the workshop. Again, Jesus stopped. "Those who love me come from every system that exists. They were Buddhists or Mormons, Baptists or Muslims, Democrats, Republicans and many who don't vote or are not part of any Sunday morning or religious institutions. I have followers who were murderers and many who were self-righteous. Some are bankers and bookies, Americans and Iraqis, Jews and Palestinians. I have no desire to make them Christian, but I do want to join them in their transformation into sons and daughters of my Papa, into my brothers and sisters, into my Beloved."
"Does that mean," asked Mack, "that all roads will lead to you?"
"Not at all," smiled Jesus as he reached for the door handle of the shop. "Most raods don't lead anywhere. What it does mean is that I will travel any road to find you."
-----
Not bad, theology. Not bad at all.
The premise (from the book jacket): a young girl, Missy, is abducted on a family camping trip; evidence found in a remote shack suggests she's been murdered. Years later, her father, Mack, receives a note, apparently from God, inviting him back to the shack for a weekend.
If you haven't read it, don't let me spoil it for you. Perhaps you'd best stop reading.
Okay?
I'm pretty suspicious of these pop-culture religious books. I mean, who is this author anyway? Has he read Pannenberg and Tillich? Where's his credentials?
There've been a number of these types of pseudo-religous culture books: Da Vinci Code, The Secret, anything by Joel Osteen, even Oprah qualifies. So I was wary. Got out my Lutheran microscope.
The story is compelling. It's hard to resist being drawn into the character portraits of Mack, wife Nan and their 5 children. The writing is a bit forced with descriptive adjectives but the story line makes up for it.
Mack goes to the shack and finds God. All three of them. (SPOILER ALERT!) God is personified as a large African-American woman who likes to cook, the Spirit is Sarayu, an Asian woman who floats about and emits bright and colorful lights, and Jesus is, well, a Middle Eastern carpenter with a big nose. What did you expect?
I like God in this portrayal. All three of them. I love God as an African American woman who gives big hugs and cooks tasty greens. God also tells Mack she's especially fond of him...and everyone else. I love a God who cooks buttery scones!
During his time with God at the shack, Mack works thorugh his anger and moves toward forgiveness and healing. It's a beautiful journey, with an intriguing portrayal of Sophia, Lady Wisdom. I appreciated the work Mack does around forgiving Missy's killer. We all know (at least in our heads) that holding onto anger only turns our own hearts black.
Mack also learns the nature of God. It's all about dropping personal agendas and trusting in God. Here's a quote of which I am especially fond. Jesus, the Jewish carpenter, is talking to Mack: (p. 181-2)
---------
"Remember, the peple who know me are the ones who are free to live and love without any agenda."
"Is that what it means to be a Christian?" It sounded kind of stupid as Mack said it, but it was how he was trying to sum up everything in his mind.
"Who said anything about being a Christian? I'm not a Christian."
The idea struck Mack as odd and unexpected and he couldn't keep himself from grinning. "No, I suppose you aren't."
They arrived at the door of the workshop. Again, Jesus stopped. "Those who love me come from every system that exists. They were Buddhists or Mormons, Baptists or Muslims, Democrats, Republicans and many who don't vote or are not part of any Sunday morning or religious institutions. I have followers who were murderers and many who were self-righteous. Some are bankers and bookies, Americans and Iraqis, Jews and Palestinians. I have no desire to make them Christian, but I do want to join them in their transformation into sons and daughters of my Papa, into my brothers and sisters, into my Beloved."
"Does that mean," asked Mack, "that all roads will lead to you?"
"Not at all," smiled Jesus as he reached for the door handle of the shop. "Most raods don't lead anywhere. What it does mean is that I will travel any road to find you."
-----
Not bad, theology. Not bad at all.
Monday, December 22, 2008
O What fun with O Antiphons
I discovered the early church tradition of the O Antiphons this season.
Yes, I know my Catholic and Episcopal sisters and brothers have long known this lovely pre-Christmas tradition. But it's all new to me!
The joy of discovery is a good, good thing.
My spiritual director suggested I pray with the O Antiphons this season. In case you're a newbie to this like me, the seven antiphons are traditionally recited during vespers Dec. 17-23. This is a special time of Advent preparation.
The O Antiphons serve at least two purposes. Each one highlights a title for Messiah:
O Sapientia (wisdom)
O Adonai (Lord)
O Radix Jesse (root of Jesse)
O Clavis David (Key of David)
O Oriens (rising sun)
O Rex Gentium (king of nations)
O Emmanuel
Also, each one refers to Isaiah's prophecy of the coming of the Messiah.
I've been praying with each of these during my nightly prayer/meditation time. I like it. I like thinking of the diversity of names for the coming Lord. I like focusing on different aspects of the divine. I like singing one more verse each night of "O Come, O Come Emmanuel," where most of these names for Messiah are found.
So, in case you didn't know, now you do.
May Christ come to you in just the way you need this season.
Yes, I know my Catholic and Episcopal sisters and brothers have long known this lovely pre-Christmas tradition. But it's all new to me!
The joy of discovery is a good, good thing.
My spiritual director suggested I pray with the O Antiphons this season. In case you're a newbie to this like me, the seven antiphons are traditionally recited during vespers Dec. 17-23. This is a special time of Advent preparation.
The O Antiphons serve at least two purposes. Each one highlights a title for Messiah:
O Sapientia (wisdom)
O Adonai (Lord)
O Radix Jesse (root of Jesse)
O Clavis David (Key of David)
O Oriens (rising sun)
O Rex Gentium (king of nations)
O Emmanuel
Also, each one refers to Isaiah's prophecy of the coming of the Messiah.
I've been praying with each of these during my nightly prayer/meditation time. I like it. I like thinking of the diversity of names for the coming Lord. I like focusing on different aspects of the divine. I like singing one more verse each night of "O Come, O Come Emmanuel," where most of these names for Messiah are found.
So, in case you didn't know, now you do.
May Christ come to you in just the way you need this season.
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
Can I get a Witness?
After my previous post (rant) I'm now ready to tackle the lectionary readings for this coming Sunday, the Third Sunday of Advent, Year B.
I was somewhat unimpressed to discover that the Gospel (this time from John) is the John the Baptist text again (it was found in Mark last week). More preparing! More crying out! More straight paths! Pastor Glenn's sermon last week was entitled "For Crying out Loud!" I'm tempted to title mine this week "For Crying out Loud Part Duex."
Well, if we must return to J the B, perhaps there's something new in John's text. Perhaps it's about witnessing.
John's Gospel tells us there was a man named John, sent from God. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all would believe. He wasn't the light, he just testified to it. (John 1:6-8 paraphrase).
We're reminded the Bibical witnesses of Christmas were always witnessing to something other than themselves. They witnessed to the amazing things God was doing in the incarnation, the coming of Christ as a human. (Thanks, Bishop Mike, for this reminder!)
So when we witness (which we are called to do) we are not to witness so that we receive the glory or that our lights shine. We merely hold the flashlight up to what God's is already doing. Maybe we can help someone to see in the dark.
This morning on NPR's "Fresh Air," Terry Gross interviewed Frank Schaeffer, son of Francis and Edith, authors who helped link evangelicals to the anti-abortion movement. Schaeffer himself promoted the religious-policial agenda but has now renounced those teaches and has joined the Greek Orthodox church.
Schaeffer commented on growing up evangelical, where he was encouraged to witness to his faith and try to turn people to Christ at every opportunity. He said he would wait patiently while people talked about their families, friends, passions and work, and then jump into the more important conversations about whether the person knew Jesus or had been saved.
His point was that was always witnessing, always trying to turn every conversation into a talk about God.
Did he miss God's genuine movement? Did he find God in the other stories people told about their daily lives? Perhaps. Perhaps that's why he doesn't live this way any more.
So what does it mean to witness?
Perhaps a witness points to something beyond herself.
Perhaps a witness points out God's simple and powerful movements in all aspects of life.
Perhaps we really must stay awake this advent season.
I was somewhat unimpressed to discover that the Gospel (this time from John) is the John the Baptist text again (it was found in Mark last week). More preparing! More crying out! More straight paths! Pastor Glenn's sermon last week was entitled "For Crying out Loud!" I'm tempted to title mine this week "For Crying out Loud Part Duex."
Well, if we must return to J the B, perhaps there's something new in John's text. Perhaps it's about witnessing.
John's Gospel tells us there was a man named John, sent from God. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all would believe. He wasn't the light, he just testified to it. (John 1:6-8 paraphrase).
We're reminded the Bibical witnesses of Christmas were always witnessing to something other than themselves. They witnessed to the amazing things God was doing in the incarnation, the coming of Christ as a human. (Thanks, Bishop Mike, for this reminder!)
So when we witness (which we are called to do) we are not to witness so that we receive the glory or that our lights shine. We merely hold the flashlight up to what God's is already doing. Maybe we can help someone to see in the dark.
This morning on NPR's "Fresh Air," Terry Gross interviewed Frank Schaeffer, son of Francis and Edith, authors who helped link evangelicals to the anti-abortion movement. Schaeffer himself promoted the religious-policial agenda but has now renounced those teaches and has joined the Greek Orthodox church.
Schaeffer commented on growing up evangelical, where he was encouraged to witness to his faith and try to turn people to Christ at every opportunity. He said he would wait patiently while people talked about their families, friends, passions and work, and then jump into the more important conversations about whether the person knew Jesus or had been saved.
His point was that was always witnessing, always trying to turn every conversation into a talk about God.
Did he miss God's genuine movement? Did he find God in the other stories people told about their daily lives? Perhaps. Perhaps that's why he doesn't live this way any more.
So what does it mean to witness?
Perhaps a witness points to something beyond herself.
Perhaps a witness points out God's simple and powerful movements in all aspects of life.
Perhaps we really must stay awake this advent season.
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
Bypassing Happiness
Why do we bypass happiness and choose crankiness, worry and fear?
Perhaps it's just because I'm a pastor and thus a repository for people's complaints, both trivial and life-changing. Maybe it's the economic downturn or my congregation's veeeery tight budget for FY 2009 but I seem to be hearing lots of complaining and unhappiness lately.
I attended a yoga workshop a few weeks ago where the presenter began not with headstands or hamstring stretches but this question: If at our deepest center is this level of peace, quiet and calm (Sanskrit: Ananda, or bliss) then why do we spend so much time in these outer layers of the physical world, mental chatter, stories we tell ourselves and our reativity to others. Good question.
Here's my addendum/Christian spin: If at our core we hold the light of Christ and the Holy Spirit dwells within us, why do we live with such unhappiness, negativity, complaining and just plain whining? Why do we do it ourselves? (I am, of course, asking the question of myself, too.)
So why don't we choose peace, gratitude and contentedness? Do we even know we have a choice? Do we see that we are not the sum of the stories we tell ourselves? We are not our feelings. We are not our reactions. We are created as God's image and bear the Holy Spirit within. Why not live out of that?
Well, Pastor Lisa, (some say) because the world is a rotten place. I've lost $100,000in my retirement account and my husband ran off with a younger woman. Or, I've lost all control of my children's actions and I feel left out and lonely. Or, I hate the hymns at Central and no one sets up for coffee hour and why don't we have a fellowship committee and where are the children in worship?
Yes, I hear you. I am truly sorry for your losses. But complaint on these smaller items without action or follow through? Listen up folks, when you notice that somebody should be doing it, that somebody is probably you. Listen up folks. God is calling. I'm just the receptionist.
I went to see a parishioner today at Providence Hospital; she requested prayer before her triple bypass.
I entered the room in all seriousness of my pastoral office. How are you, I said with great worry.
"I am so blessed," she responded, smiling.
Her story: chest pains were misdiagnosed last week as high blood pressure. On a second trip to the ER yesterday, a smart doc realized she had major blockages in three arteries. If not caught, the doc said, the heart attack that was soon to come would likely have killed her. She expressed complete thankfulness to God and to her family for getting her this far. She was joyful, peaceful and ready to face the surgery and recovery.
She is the single happiest person from my congregation I have seen in weeks.
Why do we bypass happiness?
Where are our blockages?
What if we don't clean out those blockages?
Why do we bypass happiness?
Perhaps it's just because I'm a pastor and thus a repository for people's complaints, both trivial and life-changing. Maybe it's the economic downturn or my congregation's veeeery tight budget for FY 2009 but I seem to be hearing lots of complaining and unhappiness lately.
I attended a yoga workshop a few weeks ago where the presenter began not with headstands or hamstring stretches but this question: If at our deepest center is this level of peace, quiet and calm (Sanskrit: Ananda, or bliss) then why do we spend so much time in these outer layers of the physical world, mental chatter, stories we tell ourselves and our reativity to others. Good question.
Here's my addendum/Christian spin: If at our core we hold the light of Christ and the Holy Spirit dwells within us, why do we live with such unhappiness, negativity, complaining and just plain whining? Why do we do it ourselves? (I am, of course, asking the question of myself, too.)
So why don't we choose peace, gratitude and contentedness? Do we even know we have a choice? Do we see that we are not the sum of the stories we tell ourselves? We are not our feelings. We are not our reactions. We are created as God's image and bear the Holy Spirit within. Why not live out of that?
Well, Pastor Lisa, (some say) because the world is a rotten place. I've lost $100,000in my retirement account and my husband ran off with a younger woman. Or, I've lost all control of my children's actions and I feel left out and lonely. Or, I hate the hymns at Central and no one sets up for coffee hour and why don't we have a fellowship committee and where are the children in worship?
Yes, I hear you. I am truly sorry for your losses. But complaint on these smaller items without action or follow through? Listen up folks, when you notice that somebody should be doing it, that somebody is probably you. Listen up folks. God is calling. I'm just the receptionist.
I went to see a parishioner today at Providence Hospital; she requested prayer before her triple bypass.
I entered the room in all seriousness of my pastoral office. How are you, I said with great worry.
"I am so blessed," she responded, smiling.
Her story: chest pains were misdiagnosed last week as high blood pressure. On a second trip to the ER yesterday, a smart doc realized she had major blockages in three arteries. If not caught, the doc said, the heart attack that was soon to come would likely have killed her. She expressed complete thankfulness to God and to her family for getting her this far. She was joyful, peaceful and ready to face the surgery and recovery.
She is the single happiest person from my congregation I have seen in weeks.
Why do we bypass happiness?
Where are our blockages?
What if we don't clean out those blockages?
Why do we bypass happiness?
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Modern-day Deuteronomy
I preached on Thanksgiving, if you could call it preaching.
I basically re-wrote a Deuteronomy text (8:7-18) for a modern context. The original is addressed to the people of Israel. God reminds them that he has rescued them from slavery in Egypt and provided for them through wilderness journeys and into Canann. Now that they live in relative comfort and prospertiy, it seems they've forgotten God.
Does that ever happen in our world?
Thanksgiving is for remembering what God has done and for giving thanks. My re-write is below. Thanks for reading it :)
For the Lord your God is bringing you into a good land, a land flowing with glacier-fed streams, with alpine lakes and hot springs near Fairbanks, a land of moose and caribou, of blueberries and cranberries, of salmon, halibut and lingcod, a land where you may eat without scarcity, where you will lack nothing, a land where gold is found and from whose plains you may drill oil. You shall eat and hunt and fish your fill (or at least 25 dip-netted salmon per person per season) and bless the Lord your God for the good land he has given you.
But take care that you do not forget the Lord your God by failing to keep his commandments, remembering those less fortunate or congratulating yourself for being so smart. When you have shot and quartered a moose this season and filled up shelves with Costco bargains, when you have built a 3,000-foot house on the Hillside and a deck with new patio furniture, and when your stocks soared and your PFD got bigger, and you even find the perfect parking spaces, don’t become full of yourself and your things that you forget God.
For this God through Christ delivered you from slavery to sin and self-centeredness so that all people could live in hope. This God led our nation through world wars and the Great Depression, present in suffering, near at times of death.
This God walked with Alaskans through the journey from territory to statehood, through the terrible earthquake of 1964, through pipeline prosperity and the 1980s crash. Through oil prices high and low, through winter storms, deaths of loved ones, rising costs of living and summer bear attacks, God has been very near. God has fed you with his Word and through the love of others. Even when times were tough, God intended good for you.
So do not say to yourself, “My power and college degree and sound investment strategies and hard work have gained me all that I have. I’m rich! It’s all mine!” Think again! Remember that the Lord our God gave you the strength and persistence to create this wealth and, as we’ve seen in the stock market, it will not last nor will it save you. If you forget God and start worshipping gods of your own design (including the gods of fear, hoarding, scarce-thinking and blaming), then consider this your warning, this will be the end of you. I mean to say that when you forget to thank God, you’re pulling away from your source of life and healing, your center, your well-spring, your foundation. You lose the you you’re meant to be. So remember and give thanks!
I basically re-wrote a Deuteronomy text (8:7-18) for a modern context. The original is addressed to the people of Israel. God reminds them that he has rescued them from slavery in Egypt and provided for them through wilderness journeys and into Canann. Now that they live in relative comfort and prospertiy, it seems they've forgotten God.
Does that ever happen in our world?
Thanksgiving is for remembering what God has done and for giving thanks. My re-write is below. Thanks for reading it :)
For the Lord your God is bringing you into a good land, a land flowing with glacier-fed streams, with alpine lakes and hot springs near Fairbanks, a land of moose and caribou, of blueberries and cranberries, of salmon, halibut and lingcod, a land where you may eat without scarcity, where you will lack nothing, a land where gold is found and from whose plains you may drill oil. You shall eat and hunt and fish your fill (or at least 25 dip-netted salmon per person per season) and bless the Lord your God for the good land he has given you.
But take care that you do not forget the Lord your God by failing to keep his commandments, remembering those less fortunate or congratulating yourself for being so smart. When you have shot and quartered a moose this season and filled up shelves with Costco bargains, when you have built a 3,000-foot house on the Hillside and a deck with new patio furniture, and when your stocks soared and your PFD got bigger, and you even find the perfect parking spaces, don’t become full of yourself and your things that you forget God.
For this God through Christ delivered you from slavery to sin and self-centeredness so that all people could live in hope. This God led our nation through world wars and the Great Depression, present in suffering, near at times of death.
This God walked with Alaskans through the journey from territory to statehood, through the terrible earthquake of 1964, through pipeline prosperity and the 1980s crash. Through oil prices high and low, through winter storms, deaths of loved ones, rising costs of living and summer bear attacks, God has been very near. God has fed you with his Word and through the love of others. Even when times were tough, God intended good for you.
So do not say to yourself, “My power and college degree and sound investment strategies and hard work have gained me all that I have. I’m rich! It’s all mine!” Think again! Remember that the Lord our God gave you the strength and persistence to create this wealth and, as we’ve seen in the stock market, it will not last nor will it save you. If you forget God and start worshipping gods of your own design (including the gods of fear, hoarding, scarce-thinking and blaming), then consider this your warning, this will be the end of you. I mean to say that when you forget to thank God, you’re pulling away from your source of life and healing, your center, your well-spring, your foundation. You lose the you you’re meant to be. So remember and give thanks!
Back to blogging
Dearest friends in Blogland-
If you're still out there, I'm back to blog some more. I somehow got bogged down with life. Since I last blogged, I've...
* Spent a whirlwind week in Iowa over Wartburg Homecoming (my alma mater) and saw bunches of family members. Also met my sister's boyfriend, watched the homecoming parade and generally just enjoyed being with my sister, who is a senior at W'burg.
* Lost my grandfather on Halloween. He was 90.
* Voted absentee (bummer, but at least my vote counted eventually)
* Went back to Iowa for another week for Grandpa's wake (election day) and funeral (nov. 5) Also should mention I watched election returns at a dive bar called Poor Dick's in New Hampton, Iowa, with my cousins. We drank pitchers of Miller Lite (the horror) and watched election returns on an impossibly small TV. Let me just say most of my cousins did not vote for the candidate I did. Oh well. Anyway, the next night they all wanted to eat dinner at the bowling alley (the food's real good, they said, but thankfully we went to a bar/grille instead. You guessed it. Miller Time.)
* Preached some sermons, visited some sick parishioners, tried to manage some anxiety about Central's budget without getting anxious myself (didn't work)
* Taught yoga, ran a lot, skied once.
So what's new with you?
Love,
Lisa
If you're still out there, I'm back to blog some more. I somehow got bogged down with life. Since I last blogged, I've...
* Spent a whirlwind week in Iowa over Wartburg Homecoming (my alma mater) and saw bunches of family members. Also met my sister's boyfriend, watched the homecoming parade and generally just enjoyed being with my sister, who is a senior at W'burg.
* Lost my grandfather on Halloween. He was 90.
* Voted absentee (bummer, but at least my vote counted eventually)
* Went back to Iowa for another week for Grandpa's wake (election day) and funeral (nov. 5) Also should mention I watched election returns at a dive bar called Poor Dick's in New Hampton, Iowa, with my cousins. We drank pitchers of Miller Lite (the horror) and watched election returns on an impossibly small TV. Let me just say most of my cousins did not vote for the candidate I did. Oh well. Anyway, the next night they all wanted to eat dinner at the bowling alley (the food's real good, they said, but thankfully we went to a bar/grille instead. You guessed it. Miller Time.)
* Preached some sermons, visited some sick parishioners, tried to manage some anxiety about Central's budget without getting anxious myself (didn't work)
* Taught yoga, ran a lot, skied once.
So what's new with you?
Love,
Lisa
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Why Pray?
A curious woman in the adult education class Sunday asked me this. Why pray, she asked, when God's in charge and we're not? Why pray for healing for someone else if God already knows the plans he has made for us? Why intercede? Does it do any good?
Great questions. Love them. Keep it up. Since, you asked, a few thoughts.
First, what is prayer? It means different things. Here's a good excerpt from a book by Philip and Carol Zaleski who wrote Prayer: A History, "...a recovering alcoholic reciting the serenity prayer, a Catholic nun telling beads, a child crossing himself before a meal, a quaking Shaker, a meditating yogini, a Huichol Inidan chewing on a peyote button, a Zen monk in satori, a Lubavitcher dancing with the Torah, Saint Francis receiving the stigmata, a bookie crossing his fingers before the race, Scrooge pleading for just one more change, dear God, just more chance."
Cool line up, I think. At Bible camp as a young counselor, I was trained to say "prayer is just talking to God." And I still think that's part but not the whole. It's also listening.
Maybe prayer is more. Maybe it's getting quiet, getting in touch with yourself, taking stock, being honest. In the Christian Century, September 9, 2008, Marilyn Chandler McEntyre, speaks of the power of prayer. She says prayer that works is "prayer that yields clarity, or insight, or a course of action, or leaves you more accepting of uncertainty. It can work by opening your heart in spite of yourself, or by enabling you suddenly to imagine a point of view other than the one you've been clinging to."
Perhaps this where the listening comes in.
But there is still this matter of why pray if God knows all and isn't changing God's mind?
We pray, then, to stay in relationship with God. We pray to stay connected. We pray to humble ourselves and remember that we weren't really all so much in charge anyway. We pray to practice trust and letting go, the essential practice of living.
So does it work? Well, yes, it works on us, but does it work for others, for healing or for the world? A doctor in our morning adult ed class reported medical studies that suggest patients with people praying for them do better than those with no known pray-ers. So does it work?
Prayer is an act of hope, and hope is good for us, deep down in our souls and, apparently, our bones. Does God change God's mind? Why does God heal some people and not others? These are unknowables. I still believe in a merciful God, not one who goes about zapping people with disease and affliction. Bad things just happen. Perhaps when we pray, we place our trust in the one who walks with us, through good times and bad.
Great questions. Love them. Keep it up. Since, you asked, a few thoughts.
First, what is prayer? It means different things. Here's a good excerpt from a book by Philip and Carol Zaleski who wrote Prayer: A History, "...a recovering alcoholic reciting the serenity prayer, a Catholic nun telling beads, a child crossing himself before a meal, a quaking Shaker, a meditating yogini, a Huichol Inidan chewing on a peyote button, a Zen monk in satori, a Lubavitcher dancing with the Torah, Saint Francis receiving the stigmata, a bookie crossing his fingers before the race, Scrooge pleading for just one more change, dear God, just more chance."
Cool line up, I think. At Bible camp as a young counselor, I was trained to say "prayer is just talking to God." And I still think that's part but not the whole. It's also listening.
Maybe prayer is more. Maybe it's getting quiet, getting in touch with yourself, taking stock, being honest. In the Christian Century, September 9, 2008, Marilyn Chandler McEntyre, speaks of the power of prayer. She says prayer that works is "prayer that yields clarity, or insight, or a course of action, or leaves you more accepting of uncertainty. It can work by opening your heart in spite of yourself, or by enabling you suddenly to imagine a point of view other than the one you've been clinging to."
Perhaps this where the listening comes in.
But there is still this matter of why pray if God knows all and isn't changing God's mind?
We pray, then, to stay in relationship with God. We pray to stay connected. We pray to humble ourselves and remember that we weren't really all so much in charge anyway. We pray to practice trust and letting go, the essential practice of living.
So does it work? Well, yes, it works on us, but does it work for others, for healing or for the world? A doctor in our morning adult ed class reported medical studies that suggest patients with people praying for them do better than those with no known pray-ers. So does it work?
Prayer is an act of hope, and hope is good for us, deep down in our souls and, apparently, our bones. Does God change God's mind? Why does God heal some people and not others? These are unknowables. I still believe in a merciful God, not one who goes about zapping people with disease and affliction. Bad things just happen. Perhaps when we pray, we place our trust in the one who walks with us, through good times and bad.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Last things
How do you live when you're dying?
This is really everyone's story, but I guess most of us don't think of it unless the dying part is more imminent.
My book club read Randy Pausch's "The Last Lecture" as our September feature. I had to miss the discussion due to church conflicts, so I'll reflect here.
If you haven't heard of it, The Last Lecture is the story of Pausch, who died earlier this year of pancreatic cancer. He was 47 and a professor at Carnegie Mellon in human-computer interactions. He gave the lecture in Sep. 2007 (as his last). The book is based on the lecture and his story.
His lecture is entitled "Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams" and you can find it on YouTube. He's fun and funny. His dreams may seem child-like (float in zero gravity, play for the NFL, be Captain Kirk on Star Trek) but over his life he finds he does accomplish many of them (well, he played high school footbak and met Captain Kirk instead of becoming him). The lecture and the book are about his legacy to his kids but his words are also ways to live.
The book was a bestseller on NY Times. His death was covered by ABC, Time, the NY Times, Washington Post, LA Times. What is it about this story that has captivated us?
In part, I think, it's his honesty. One of the first slides in his last lecture is a CT scan of his liver, with arrows pointing to the tumors. He says it's important to point out the "elephant the room." He's funny, too. He gets down on stage and does a bunch of push-ups to show that, for a dying man, he's in pretty good shape. He even wrote the book (with journalist Jeffrey Zaslow) during phone conversations while Pausch rode his bike.
But there must be something more compelling. Many writers are honest and funny and they don't top bestseller lists. And while Pausch's advice is great (be honest, tell people you love them, don't waste time on important things, don't let brick walls stop you) we could find these proverbial thoughts elsewhere.
I think Pausch is so fascinating because our society shuts out death and dying. It's the place we don't go, publically. Pausch brings the reality (and hope, joy and fun even at the end) into public discourse. He embraces the nearness of death and lives fully in spite of it. He doesn't deny it, cover it up or get embarrased about it. Pausch lets us know it's okay to talk about death and it's okay to live even when you're dying.
After all, we're all doing it. Pausch might remind us we might as well enjoy life, then, while we have it.
Check out his Web site for more info, stories, and book details:
http://www.thelastlecture.com
This is really everyone's story, but I guess most of us don't think of it unless the dying part is more imminent.
My book club read Randy Pausch's "The Last Lecture" as our September feature. I had to miss the discussion due to church conflicts, so I'll reflect here.
If you haven't heard of it, The Last Lecture is the story of Pausch, who died earlier this year of pancreatic cancer. He was 47 and a professor at Carnegie Mellon in human-computer interactions. He gave the lecture in Sep. 2007 (as his last). The book is based on the lecture and his story.
His lecture is entitled "Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams" and you can find it on YouTube. He's fun and funny. His dreams may seem child-like (float in zero gravity, play for the NFL, be Captain Kirk on Star Trek) but over his life he finds he does accomplish many of them (well, he played high school footbak and met Captain Kirk instead of becoming him). The lecture and the book are about his legacy to his kids but his words are also ways to live.
The book was a bestseller on NY Times. His death was covered by ABC, Time, the NY Times, Washington Post, LA Times. What is it about this story that has captivated us?
In part, I think, it's his honesty. One of the first slides in his last lecture is a CT scan of his liver, with arrows pointing to the tumors. He says it's important to point out the "elephant the room." He's funny, too. He gets down on stage and does a bunch of push-ups to show that, for a dying man, he's in pretty good shape. He even wrote the book (with journalist Jeffrey Zaslow) during phone conversations while Pausch rode his bike.
But there must be something more compelling. Many writers are honest and funny and they don't top bestseller lists. And while Pausch's advice is great (be honest, tell people you love them, don't waste time on important things, don't let brick walls stop you) we could find these proverbial thoughts elsewhere.
I think Pausch is so fascinating because our society shuts out death and dying. It's the place we don't go, publically. Pausch brings the reality (and hope, joy and fun even at the end) into public discourse. He embraces the nearness of death and lives fully in spite of it. He doesn't deny it, cover it up or get embarrased about it. Pausch lets us know it's okay to talk about death and it's okay to live even when you're dying.
After all, we're all doing it. Pausch might remind us we might as well enjoy life, then, while we have it.
Check out his Web site for more info, stories, and book details:
http://www.thelastlecture.com
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
On Generosity and Equality
Or, why we (secretly) rejoice at others' sufferings and begrude their successes. Come on, we all do it.
Jesus tells a Kingdom of Heaven parable in the gospel lesson for this coming Sunday (Sept. 21). He says the kingdom is like workers in a vineyard, some work a whole day, some only an hour, and all get the same daily wage. The landowner asks those who grumble, "Are you envious because I am generous?"
Well, yeah! It's not fair! Seems like when I work hard, I should be rewarded. That's what I learned on the farm, anyway. In this world, that's how it works. But God's kingdom is different.
God's kingdom isn't fair. Of course it isn't. If it was, I'd be in big trouble for every malicous thought, every white lie and every silent rage against those who frustrate me.
So the kingdom isn't fair. But it's equal. And it's good. God loves us equally. There's nothing I can do to make God love me more, nothing to make God love me less. God loves me (a long-suffering Lutheran pastor!) as much as the elderly prison inmate who comes to know Christ at life's end. Yeah, it's not fair. But God is good.
We do begrudge God's generosity, though we might better be grateful for it. It's hard sometimes to be rejoice for a friend's success or good news. It's easy sometimes to be secretly happy when the friend has a tough time. I remember when a long-term boyfriend ended our relationship during seminary (I thought we were getting married) and two weeks later my roommate/best friend got engaged. It was so difficult to be happy about anything, least of all for my friend. But somehow God surprised me and I could celebrate her engagement while I mended my broken heart.
Bottom line: God is recklessly, wildly generous. No matter if we're up or down, that abundant love is with us. No matter if our friends are up or down, that abundant love is with them. We have all we need; God fills us. This is God's kingdom: a place where things don't always make sense, but where God is still God. And good.
Jesus tells a Kingdom of Heaven parable in the gospel lesson for this coming Sunday (Sept. 21). He says the kingdom is like workers in a vineyard, some work a whole day, some only an hour, and all get the same daily wage. The landowner asks those who grumble, "Are you envious because I am generous?"
Well, yeah! It's not fair! Seems like when I work hard, I should be rewarded. That's what I learned on the farm, anyway. In this world, that's how it works. But God's kingdom is different.
God's kingdom isn't fair. Of course it isn't. If it was, I'd be in big trouble for every malicous thought, every white lie and every silent rage against those who frustrate me.
So the kingdom isn't fair. But it's equal. And it's good. God loves us equally. There's nothing I can do to make God love me more, nothing to make God love me less. God loves me (a long-suffering Lutheran pastor!) as much as the elderly prison inmate who comes to know Christ at life's end. Yeah, it's not fair. But God is good.
We do begrudge God's generosity, though we might better be grateful for it. It's hard sometimes to be rejoice for a friend's success or good news. It's easy sometimes to be secretly happy when the friend has a tough time. I remember when a long-term boyfriend ended our relationship during seminary (I thought we were getting married) and two weeks later my roommate/best friend got engaged. It was so difficult to be happy about anything, least of all for my friend. But somehow God surprised me and I could celebrate her engagement while I mended my broken heart.
Bottom line: God is recklessly, wildly generous. No matter if we're up or down, that abundant love is with us. No matter if our friends are up or down, that abundant love is with them. We have all we need; God fills us. This is God's kingdom: a place where things don't always make sense, but where God is still God. And good.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Politics, as usual
Less than two months until the presidential election and I am counting the days.
Yes, I want change (and both Obama and McCain promise to bring it). Yes, I'm weary of the current administration. But mostly, I'm ready for it all to be over. I'm tired of the speeches, the half-truths, the promises. And it's only mid-September.
I sat at a table of Lutheran pastors and lay leaders at a meeting yesterday. As we ate lunch and made small-talk, I noted there were different political persuasions. One man was disatisfied with both presidential candidates but said he would now vote McCain because of Sarah Palin. Another man expressed shock at this (I happen to know he's an Obama fan, though he didn't disclose this publically). Most people kept their opinions to themselves and just discussed the phenomena, especially around Palin, who we Alaskans have known for years.
What didn't get mentioned in our small talk was the question I have in my heart (though I will confess I've made up my mind for Nov. 4). The question is this:
How does a person of Christian faith decide for whom to vote?
Now, if you attend other churches in town, the pastor might just tell you. Though I think that violates their 501 (C) (3) status! Maybe they just tell you indirectly. We don't do those kind of shenanigans here at Central.
So I pondered this and here's what I think so far. I'd be interested to know your ideas. Those of you in Blogland, remember I'm Lutheran, which focuses my theological lens.
How to pick a president (or any political leader)
* Pray. I think God encourages us to pray for our nation's leaders and potential leaders. As with everything, it's better not to ask Santa-God for a wish list. Rather, we pray for leaders' discernment and for decisions and actions that promote peace, justice and equity.
* Get informed. So Lutherans trust that God gave us these fantastic brains for a reason. So use them! Read up on candidates and issues, watch the debates. Check out articles or memoirs by candidates. Try to read and study from different sources or non-partisan opinions.
* Listen to others. This one's hard for me. But I believe we are called to listen the ideas and opinions of others, especially our friends and family, and especially if they have ideas that are different. In this way, we honor that Spirit that is in all of us and promote unity (not uniformity) in the body of Christ.
* Consider the widow, the orphan and the stranger. My seminary Old Testament professor said this phrase was like a drumbeat through the whole Bible. God is interested in what happens to the weak, poor and downtrodden. Liberation theologians speak of God's "preferential option" for the poor. Jesus blesses them. It's hard to wade through the promises but see if you can discern where a candidate stands on issues of poverty and hunger.
* Thank God! Be thankful that we live in a place where we can exercise freedom to vote, speak and assemble. Regularly thank God for what is good in our country, even while praying for things to improve.
* Get involved. If you prayerfully choose a candidate or cause worth supporting, do it! Consider ways to be part of the process or give financial support. Christians need not stand outside of the political process. God's mercy and love can work in strange and mysterious ways (even polical systems!) Be hopeful that your passion can create a more positive world.
Yes, I want change (and both Obama and McCain promise to bring it). Yes, I'm weary of the current administration. But mostly, I'm ready for it all to be over. I'm tired of the speeches, the half-truths, the promises. And it's only mid-September.
I sat at a table of Lutheran pastors and lay leaders at a meeting yesterday. As we ate lunch and made small-talk, I noted there were different political persuasions. One man was disatisfied with both presidential candidates but said he would now vote McCain because of Sarah Palin. Another man expressed shock at this (I happen to know he's an Obama fan, though he didn't disclose this publically). Most people kept their opinions to themselves and just discussed the phenomena, especially around Palin, who we Alaskans have known for years.
What didn't get mentioned in our small talk was the question I have in my heart (though I will confess I've made up my mind for Nov. 4). The question is this:
How does a person of Christian faith decide for whom to vote?
Now, if you attend other churches in town, the pastor might just tell you. Though I think that violates their 501 (C) (3) status! Maybe they just tell you indirectly. We don't do those kind of shenanigans here at Central.
So I pondered this and here's what I think so far. I'd be interested to know your ideas. Those of you in Blogland, remember I'm Lutheran, which focuses my theological lens.
How to pick a president (or any political leader)
* Pray. I think God encourages us to pray for our nation's leaders and potential leaders. As with everything, it's better not to ask Santa-God for a wish list. Rather, we pray for leaders' discernment and for decisions and actions that promote peace, justice and equity.
* Get informed. So Lutherans trust that God gave us these fantastic brains for a reason. So use them! Read up on candidates and issues, watch the debates. Check out articles or memoirs by candidates. Try to read and study from different sources or non-partisan opinions.
* Listen to others. This one's hard for me. But I believe we are called to listen the ideas and opinions of others, especially our friends and family, and especially if they have ideas that are different. In this way, we honor that Spirit that is in all of us and promote unity (not uniformity) in the body of Christ.
* Consider the widow, the orphan and the stranger. My seminary Old Testament professor said this phrase was like a drumbeat through the whole Bible. God is interested in what happens to the weak, poor and downtrodden. Liberation theologians speak of God's "preferential option" for the poor. Jesus blesses them. It's hard to wade through the promises but see if you can discern where a candidate stands on issues of poverty and hunger.
* Thank God! Be thankful that we live in a place where we can exercise freedom to vote, speak and assemble. Regularly thank God for what is good in our country, even while praying for things to improve.
* Get involved. If you prayerfully choose a candidate or cause worth supporting, do it! Consider ways to be part of the process or give financial support. Christians need not stand outside of the political process. God's mercy and love can work in strange and mysterious ways (even polical systems!) Be hopeful that your passion can create a more positive world.
Monday, September 08, 2008
Dancing with a Nun
The wedding was private, the reception, a public contra dance.
I did a wedding on Saturday for a couple who've been attending Central with some regularity and plan to join. The wedding was small and private, in the small rose garden on Anchorage's Park Strip.
Then it was off to Alpenglow ski area for a wedding reception, contra dance and North Carolina-style BBQ (a nod to the bride's home state).
After a delicous meal (and even vegetarian beans and rice) the caller in a white shirt and black vest fired up the band and invited us onto the floor for a circle contra dance.
Though I was wearing my collar, I'd put on a swishy red shirt and comfy cute flats for dancing. I had a great time.
We lined up again for a line contra dance and I was without a partner. Since many pairs were both women, I didn't mind when a woman I didn't know volunteered to be my partner.
She said, "I'll dance with the nun."
I got very quiet.
"I'm not a nun," I said, more impassioned than I intended. "I just did the wedding ceremony on the park strip. I'm a Lutheran pastor."
"Oh. I thought you came dressed in costume as a nun."
Great. Now I'm a nun.
Earlier that night, an attractive man had asked me if I was a priest. Groan.
All in a day's work, apparently, when serving the Lord.
Maybe I'll be a nun for Halloween. Nah, too close to home.
I did a wedding on Saturday for a couple who've been attending Central with some regularity and plan to join. The wedding was small and private, in the small rose garden on Anchorage's Park Strip.
Then it was off to Alpenglow ski area for a wedding reception, contra dance and North Carolina-style BBQ (a nod to the bride's home state).
After a delicous meal (and even vegetarian beans and rice) the caller in a white shirt and black vest fired up the band and invited us onto the floor for a circle contra dance.
Though I was wearing my collar, I'd put on a swishy red shirt and comfy cute flats for dancing. I had a great time.
We lined up again for a line contra dance and I was without a partner. Since many pairs were both women, I didn't mind when a woman I didn't know volunteered to be my partner.
She said, "I'll dance with the nun."
I got very quiet.
"I'm not a nun," I said, more impassioned than I intended. "I just did the wedding ceremony on the park strip. I'm a Lutheran pastor."
"Oh. I thought you came dressed in costume as a nun."
Great. Now I'm a nun.
Earlier that night, an attractive man had asked me if I was a priest. Groan.
All in a day's work, apparently, when serving the Lord.
Maybe I'll be a nun for Halloween. Nah, too close to home.
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
Almost Famous (almost)
It's been a big week for Alaskan women, apparently.
I had a phone call from a friend on Friday. It appears I was named Runner Up as "Best Preacher" in the Anchorage Press (weekly news/entertainment rag, for those outside of Anchorage). They did a "best of" everything survey recently(restaurants, DJs, live music, politicians, etc). See the results at:
http://www.anchoragepress.com/site/basicarticle.asp?ID=809
Scroll all the way to the bottom to see the preacher list. Jerry Prevo (Anchorage Baptist Temple) seems to have edged me out for the number one seat.
So, I've had a few emails, facebook hits, phone calls since then. Is this how Sarah Palin feels? At least no one's looking in to my shady past...
Anyway, thanks to my friends or whoever out there who thought to nominate me. Maybe someone was silly or maybe serious. Regardless, it's cute and I'm flattered.
I'm also thoughtful.
The side commentary in the Press noted that most readers left this one blank. Others wrote "anyone but Jerry Prevo" (again for those outside AK, Prevo is famed for a bit of fire and brimstone at his mega-temple). Others put "God" or "nature" and apparently someone put "f--k this category." Huh. How about that.
What I ponder about this experience is the loaded nature of that word, "preacher." Somehow this category is a turn off, an abomination or a mystery to the readers of the press. What? Can't a girl like good, dark beers and know a good preacher? Can't I hang out at Humpy's and still hear a sermon the next morning?
And what does it say about our religious/cultural life that we have to hate Jerry Prevo rather than knowing anything about any other preacher in town? Maybe we aren't visible, aren't "out there" enough as churches, pastors, Lutherans.
Maybe I should hold office hours at Kaladi's. Or Humpy's. Or Darwin's Theory. Maybe I'll see you there. Maybe I won't even preach.
I had a phone call from a friend on Friday. It appears I was named Runner Up as "Best Preacher" in the Anchorage Press (weekly news/entertainment rag, for those outside of Anchorage). They did a "best of" everything survey recently(restaurants, DJs, live music, politicians, etc). See the results at:
http://www.anchoragepress.com/site/basicarticle.asp?ID=809
Scroll all the way to the bottom to see the preacher list. Jerry Prevo (Anchorage Baptist Temple) seems to have edged me out for the number one seat.
So, I've had a few emails, facebook hits, phone calls since then. Is this how Sarah Palin feels? At least no one's looking in to my shady past...
Anyway, thanks to my friends or whoever out there who thought to nominate me. Maybe someone was silly or maybe serious. Regardless, it's cute and I'm flattered.
I'm also thoughtful.
The side commentary in the Press noted that most readers left this one blank. Others wrote "anyone but Jerry Prevo" (again for those outside AK, Prevo is famed for a bit of fire and brimstone at his mega-temple). Others put "God" or "nature" and apparently someone put "f--k this category." Huh. How about that.
What I ponder about this experience is the loaded nature of that word, "preacher." Somehow this category is a turn off, an abomination or a mystery to the readers of the press. What? Can't a girl like good, dark beers and know a good preacher? Can't I hang out at Humpy's and still hear a sermon the next morning?
And what does it say about our religious/cultural life that we have to hate Jerry Prevo rather than knowing anything about any other preacher in town? Maybe we aren't visible, aren't "out there" enough as churches, pastors, Lutherans.
Maybe I should hold office hours at Kaladi's. Or Humpy's. Or Darwin's Theory. Maybe I'll see you there. Maybe I won't even preach.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
To Have Without Holding
This is my sermon title for the weekend (Aug. 31) and also the title of a great poem by Marge Piercy. She writes:
Learning to love differently is hard,
love with the hands wide open, love
with the doors banging on their hinges,
the cupboard unlocked, the wind
roaring and whimpering in the rooms...
I loved her poem title because it reminded me of all we cling so tightly to in our world of scary times. We cling to our hopes, market predictions, expectations of other people, our achievements and ideas of how the world should be.
What if, instead, of clinging, we loved differently, with hands wide open?
The Bible text for Sunday is all about Jesus telling the disciples not to cling to their lives, lest they lose them but rather give up their lives for Christ to find them.
I loved this online commentary by artist and writer Jan Richardson:
"Jesus compels us to find the particular path that will enable us to do the work of giving up all that separates us from God, from one another, and from our deepest selves. As Peter learned, this includes releasing our desire to dictate the actions of others in ways we are not meant to do, and letting go of our attachment to outcomes that lie beyond our control. “To have without holding,” poet Marge Piercy puts it. In one of the great paradoxes of the spiritual path, it’s this kind of denial—this kind of detachment—that makes way for our deepest connections.
So what are you attached to just now? How do you know when a treasured expectation, desire, or relationship has become a stumbling block? Who or what helps you recognize these blocks? What might you build from them? Can you imagine what lies beyond them?" (found online at: http://paintedprayerbook.com)
Amen, I say. And check out my sermon, inspired by Jan, this Sunday at Central Lutheran, 9:30 AM.
Learning to love differently is hard,
love with the hands wide open, love
with the doors banging on their hinges,
the cupboard unlocked, the wind
roaring and whimpering in the rooms...
I loved her poem title because it reminded me of all we cling so tightly to in our world of scary times. We cling to our hopes, market predictions, expectations of other people, our achievements and ideas of how the world should be.
What if, instead, of clinging, we loved differently, with hands wide open?
The Bible text for Sunday is all about Jesus telling the disciples not to cling to their lives, lest they lose them but rather give up their lives for Christ to find them.
I loved this online commentary by artist and writer Jan Richardson:
"Jesus compels us to find the particular path that will enable us to do the work of giving up all that separates us from God, from one another, and from our deepest selves. As Peter learned, this includes releasing our desire to dictate the actions of others in ways we are not meant to do, and letting go of our attachment to outcomes that lie beyond our control. “To have without holding,” poet Marge Piercy puts it. In one of the great paradoxes of the spiritual path, it’s this kind of denial—this kind of detachment—that makes way for our deepest connections.
So what are you attached to just now? How do you know when a treasured expectation, desire, or relationship has become a stumbling block? Who or what helps you recognize these blocks? What might you build from them? Can you imagine what lies beyond them?" (found online at: http://paintedprayerbook.com)
Amen, I say. And check out my sermon, inspired by Jan, this Sunday at Central Lutheran, 9:30 AM.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Taize trip!
Want to go to France?
Here at Central, we've been worshipping in Taize style every 1st and 3rd Thursdays at 7 pm. This service takes a break for summer but will continue Sept. 18. (We also do Holden Evening Prayer on 2nd and 4th Thursdays, same time, this starts Sept. 11).
Anyway, Taize is a way of worship and also a place. Started during WWII era as a refuge for Jews and others, it is now a community where brothers of many faiths live, work and pray. The community also hosts lots and lots of young people, who come for a week to live, work, pray, sing and do Bible studies.
By the way, Taize is located in southeast France, nearest to Lyon on the west or Geneva, Switzerland, on the east.
Taize music is chant-based and repetitive. It becomes a prayer set to music. Worship includes prayer and a time for silence. Participants are encouraged to be open and listening for God during these times. I find the worship services we do here to be very powerful.
The "young adult" program at Taize is for folks aged 18-30 (though others are welcome to visit) and includes a somewhat-structured week, Sunday through Sunday. Young adults from all over the world gather for prayer three times a day, do a Bible study with one of the brothers (in a very diverse group) and help with community chores like cleaning or serving food.
Taize is meant as a place of reflection, worship, discernment and fellowship.
So, here we go. I plan to lead a group of Central young adults to Taize this March, probably March 15-22. The target age is 18-30; I'd like to keep the participants in this age group to respect Taize's structure. (Yes, I know I'm older, but that's okay because I'm the "chaperone," says the Web site :)
Want to join us? Know anyone else who's interested? I already have about 4 women interested and there may be others. Participants would buy their own plane tickets (though we'll do some fundraising to help folks out). The cost of staying at Taize is minimal (about $12 USD per day);Central may be able to help with that.
So ponder this opportunity.
And join us for Taize worship on Sept. 18!
Here at Central, we've been worshipping in Taize style every 1st and 3rd Thursdays at 7 pm. This service takes a break for summer but will continue Sept. 18. (We also do Holden Evening Prayer on 2nd and 4th Thursdays, same time, this starts Sept. 11).
Anyway, Taize is a way of worship and also a place. Started during WWII era as a refuge for Jews and others, it is now a community where brothers of many faiths live, work and pray. The community also hosts lots and lots of young people, who come for a week to live, work, pray, sing and do Bible studies.
By the way, Taize is located in southeast France, nearest to Lyon on the west or Geneva, Switzerland, on the east.
Taize music is chant-based and repetitive. It becomes a prayer set to music. Worship includes prayer and a time for silence. Participants are encouraged to be open and listening for God during these times. I find the worship services we do here to be very powerful.
The "young adult" program at Taize is for folks aged 18-30 (though others are welcome to visit) and includes a somewhat-structured week, Sunday through Sunday. Young adults from all over the world gather for prayer three times a day, do a Bible study with one of the brothers (in a very diverse group) and help with community chores like cleaning or serving food.
Taize is meant as a place of reflection, worship, discernment and fellowship.
So, here we go. I plan to lead a group of Central young adults to Taize this March, probably March 15-22. The target age is 18-30; I'd like to keep the participants in this age group to respect Taize's structure. (Yes, I know I'm older, but that's okay because I'm the "chaperone," says the Web site :)
Want to join us? Know anyone else who's interested? I already have about 4 women interested and there may be others. Participants would buy their own plane tickets (though we'll do some fundraising to help folks out). The cost of staying at Taize is minimal (about $12 USD per day);Central may be able to help with that.
So ponder this opportunity.
And join us for Taize worship on Sept. 18!
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Resurrection and the Real World
A friend from seminary is writing her approval essay (the final paperwork to get approved to be a real pastor...oh and you also have to graduate from seminary).
She asked me yesterday for some feedback on one of the questions. The question asked the writer to reflect on Jesus' death and resurrection, using your own thoughts and also connecting it to the Lutheran tradition.
My pal was a bit concerned, she said, for while she (of course) appreciated the resurrection, she found she had more of an incarnational focus. (For you non-church-geeks out there, that means more of a focus on the miracle of Jesus' birth, rather than the whole "rose from the dead" gig).
Well, at this point, I promptly told her to join the Catholic church.
Just kidding.
See, as Lutherans, the deal is, we really are Jesus people. We love God and the Holy Spirit a whole bunch but we tend to focus more on Jesus and his resurrection.
Well, my friend said, this is all well and good, but when we focus on resurrection, we usually have to get into theories of atonement. (Another fancy church word, which means what Jesus did -- died--- to atone, or make up for our sins. Jesus washed away our sins or insert your own favorite image here).
My friend isn't a big fan of atonment theories.
And I can see her point. The classic atonement theory is the "Christus Victor" model, a la theologians like Aulen, who speak of Jesus as this cosmic warrior who fought sin and death and the power of the devil and conquored them on the cross. Thus, this sacrifice of love appeases God's pending judgment upon us. Instead of looking at us in anger when we mess up, God sees us through Jesus' sacrifice and we're all okay.
It does smack of militaristic, conquoring, fighting language, eh? Which I don't particularly care for either. Jesus didn't present himself as much of a warrior. Come on, he was a lover, not a fighter.
But my friend still wanted to know: what would I say about the resurrection? And I belive I'd say this (and I did, to her and now to you, gentle reader).
I do believe in the resurrection. (I think I've blogged about this before, sorry if it's a repeat). I don't know why it happened and I'm not sure if God exactly planned it out that way since the beginning of time. Maybe Jesus just came into the world and loved people and spoke the truth and so of course he got killed. But God knew he could renew and transform such a loss, such an end.
So that's the kind of resurrection I really believe in. I believe in the power of resurrection. I believe that when the worst happens, it's not the last word. God's love and power to transform and bring life out of nothingness is always the last word. I believe that when we are stuck in life, in despair, in turmoil or just plan soaked in apathy that resurrection can break through and God's love will transform even the worst of situations. I believe this will my whole being.
Resurrection gives us hope. Even when we face death, we have hope, because God is still with us. There is always hope. That's what resurrection means to me.
She asked me yesterday for some feedback on one of the questions. The question asked the writer to reflect on Jesus' death and resurrection, using your own thoughts and also connecting it to the Lutheran tradition.
My pal was a bit concerned, she said, for while she (of course) appreciated the resurrection, she found she had more of an incarnational focus. (For you non-church-geeks out there, that means more of a focus on the miracle of Jesus' birth, rather than the whole "rose from the dead" gig).
Well, at this point, I promptly told her to join the Catholic church.
Just kidding.
See, as Lutherans, the deal is, we really are Jesus people. We love God and the Holy Spirit a whole bunch but we tend to focus more on Jesus and his resurrection.
Well, my friend said, this is all well and good, but when we focus on resurrection, we usually have to get into theories of atonement. (Another fancy church word, which means what Jesus did -- died--- to atone, or make up for our sins. Jesus washed away our sins or insert your own favorite image here).
My friend isn't a big fan of atonment theories.
And I can see her point. The classic atonement theory is the "Christus Victor" model, a la theologians like Aulen, who speak of Jesus as this cosmic warrior who fought sin and death and the power of the devil and conquored them on the cross. Thus, this sacrifice of love appeases God's pending judgment upon us. Instead of looking at us in anger when we mess up, God sees us through Jesus' sacrifice and we're all okay.
It does smack of militaristic, conquoring, fighting language, eh? Which I don't particularly care for either. Jesus didn't present himself as much of a warrior. Come on, he was a lover, not a fighter.
But my friend still wanted to know: what would I say about the resurrection? And I belive I'd say this (and I did, to her and now to you, gentle reader).
I do believe in the resurrection. (I think I've blogged about this before, sorry if it's a repeat). I don't know why it happened and I'm not sure if God exactly planned it out that way since the beginning of time. Maybe Jesus just came into the world and loved people and spoke the truth and so of course he got killed. But God knew he could renew and transform such a loss, such an end.
So that's the kind of resurrection I really believe in. I believe in the power of resurrection. I believe that when the worst happens, it's not the last word. God's love and power to transform and bring life out of nothingness is always the last word. I believe that when we are stuck in life, in despair, in turmoil or just plan soaked in apathy that resurrection can break through and God's love will transform even the worst of situations. I believe this will my whole being.
Resurrection gives us hope. Even when we face death, we have hope, because God is still with us. There is always hope. That's what resurrection means to me.
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