Rev. Rachel Writes

we're moving...

2009-09-15T09:01:00.001-07:00

I have started a new blog for our Silver Spring Cooperative Parish: "Inside-out Church" Come on over and see what's happening...

A Good Friday

2009-04-10T14:09:00.000-07:00

To observe Good Friday, folks from Woodside and Hughes UMC, as well as some friends from the community walked through downtown Silver Spring observing a version of the stations of the cross. We called it "The Way of the Cross" and we stopped at various social service agencies, ministry partners and public places to read scripture, pray and sing. We lifted up the homeless, the poor, the sick, the disabled, the lonely, friends and strangers alike. We prayed for the righteous, the servants, the followers of Jesus who provide home, food, a place to belong and Christ's love to our community.

It was a gorgeous day and we passed people out for lunch, construction workers, and lots of traffic on Georgia Avenue. Some greeted us with smiles, some observed us with curiosity, some looked away uncomfortably. I overheard a child ask her father, "what are they doing?" We are witnessing to the love of God.

At Silver Spring Interfaith Housing Coalition, our reader's voice cracked with emotion as she read Jesus' command from the cross to his disciple to take his mother into his home, and our command to serve: "Do we notice the homeless men, women and children in our community? Or do they remain hidden from our eyes?" Some unhoused neighbors and a staff nurse joined us at Shepherd's Table. And when we got to the Easter Seals Intergenerational Center, some of the seniors and staff came out onto the porch to be part of our reading. I saw one woman from the staff wiping away her tears as we finished and walked away.

A couple of weeks ago, a little girl at church asked me: Why do we call it Good Friday? Now we know. Because the suffering of the cross was brutal, but out of that came the greatest gift the world has ever known. And out of the suffering that is all around us, there are, yet and still, signs of hope.

Just Because It's Holy Week...

2009-04-10T14:08:00.000-07:00

the baby got sick and had to stay home from daycare for three days, and the dishwasher broke.
Is there something I am not doing right?

Bunny Week

2009-04-06T18:55:00.001-07:00

Bunnies Gone Wild
Originally uploaded by Bakerella

So it's HOLY WEEK...the culmination of Lent, and the holiest week of the Christian year when we remember the Last Supper, the trial, suffering and crucifixion of Jesus and we await the coming HOPE of Easter with prayer, fasting and penitence.

And my four-year-old daughter Nora came home from preschool today with a calendar of her week's activities announcing this week's theme: BUNNY WEEK.

Perfect.

Now, let me just say, it's a wonderful preschool. I adore Nora's teachers and she is thriving there. And it's not a religious school. Not at all, in fact. I learned this the hard way back in December when they invited parents to come in and share about family holiday traditions and Nora wanted to bring in her nativity scene, which was fine, I was told, so long as we didn't mention Jesus. You have got to be kidding me...

So I am not expecting them to get into the religious significance of the Easter season. But it does concern me a bit that the most important Christian holiday (more important, even, than Christmas), is (hard) boiled down to eggs and bunnies. If that's not evidence that we live in a post-Christian, neo-pagan culture, I don't know what is.

It's just also a good reminder to me, as a person who seeks to follow Christ, and also to raise my children in this faith, that it's so important to really enter into the story of this whole week. I can't just go from Hosanna! to Hallelujah!, omit all that comes between, and really expect that the resurrection will have any impact on my life or faith.

So may Jesus keep me, and you, near the cross this Holy Week.

PS. I did feel a little better knowing that the kick off to "Bunny Week" was reading The Runaway Bunny by Margaret Wise Brown, which, if you haven't read it lately, you should, because it's a sweet story and one of the best metaphors for God's persistent love there is!

On Collars and Titles

2009-03-05T12:32:00.001-08:00

Collared
Originally uploaded by Gary McMurray

One of my Lenten disciplines this year, in addition to blogging regularly, has been to wear my clerical collar once a week. I try and wear my "clergy uniform" on days when I am going to be away from the church office and out in the world. The whole point is to try and remember that I am a minister of God at all times and that my speech, behavior, even my driving (yikes!) should reflect the image of God that I hope others will see. It's been humbling, and, I will admit, fun to see people's reaction. Today at lunchtime, as I was walking out of a restaurant with my rabbi friend, a man who was coming in audibly gasped when he saw us. Maybe he thought it was one of those bad jokes (a pastor and a rabbi are eating sushi...)

But the other piece of this is that I am constantly wrestling with my pastoral identity and the whole mix of pastor, mom, human being that I am everyday. When I put on my collar, the first thing that people see is my pastoral identity, but I am still all those other things, too, and those identities are just as important to me.

Today someone suggested to me that I shouldn't let people at church call me just "Rachel"; that I should have people call me Rev. Rachel at least, so that they show respect for the office and my role as pastor. I have never had a problem with people calling me by my first name--I want to be accessible and don't want titles to stand in the way of relationship. I have accepted the responsibility and privilege of being "set apart" for this work of God. And yet, I feel that I must earn people's respect--that it shouldn't just be given to me because I have a certain degree, title or shirt.

I hope that people will offer me respect just because I am a child of God and because all people deserve compassion, patience, love and mercy. And I also hope that whether or not I am wearing my collar, my words and deeds will show that I am someone who seeks to follow Jesus everyday.

Snow Day

2009-03-02T18:05:00.000-08:00

I am reading a new book by Brian McLaren called Finding Our Way Again: The Return of the Ancient Practices in which he declares that Christianity should be more of a way of life than a set of beliefs. He encourages a return to "the way" through the ancient practices of pilgrimage, fasting, sacred meals, common prayer, giving, Sabbath keeping and the liturgical year. So far I think this book has got a lot of good ideas that I'll be blogging about here, but today I want to celebrate Sabbath. After all, what's a better sabbath than a snow day?

What Not To Wear

2009-02-28T11:37:00.001-08:00

Clothes Show Live Fashion Catwalk 2007
Originally uploaded by beckfish

I love this picture, by the way. "Fashion is the new religion"? Seriously?

"Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity."
--Colossians 3:12-14

I got to celebrate a wedding today and the bride and groom chose this scripture to be read. It is a great passage for a wedding, because so many people spend so much time thinking about what they're going to wear at their wedding, but what do you wear to a marriage? Or to any relationship for that matter?

Compassion. Kindness. Humility. Gentleness. Patience. Forgiveness. Love.

Sometimes we forget that these spiritual garments are essential items in any wardrobe. We get so caught up at times in how we look on the outside and forget that we need dressing on the inside, too. And there are times when we need people to be honest enough to say to us, "Hey, you have a bit of selfishness stuck to your shoe." Or, "That anger and resentment really doesn't look good on you. How about trying a little patience and forgiveness?"

Those kinds of things never wear out; they never go out of fashion. They are appropriate for every season.

Ash Wednesday

2009-02-25T17:51:00.001-08:00

Fire and Water
Originally uploaded by peasap

Sunday's palms are Wednesday's ashes as another Lent begins; thus we kneel before our Maker in contrition for our sins. We have marred baptismal pledges, in rebellion gone astray; now returning, seek forgiveness; grant us pardon, God, this day! (From the hymn "Sunday's Palms are Wednesday's Ashes" words by Rae E. Whitney, tune: Beach Spring)

The fire took quickly to the well dried palms, and I could feel the heat as the flames burned higher. The strong wind blows great wafts of smoke heavenward and the smell clings to my hands and hair. I now understand why the ancient traditions use incense to lift their prayers to God. As the flames die down and the fire smolders, all that remains is ash. It is the darkest black imaginable, and messy. The tiny flecks stick to everything.

One by one they come forward--a homeless woman and a district superintendent; the man and the woman who have lost their jobs; the woman whose marriage is faltering; young people with heavy burdens and old people afraid of death. Before the altar, all of this falls away and we are simply reminded that we are dust. Once again the breath of God breathes new life into us, and we are forgiven, redeemed, set free.

We set our feet on the path of Christ. We will not shy away from the cross this year, for we know that there are things that are some things worse than death. And our God will not allow death to have the final word--no, not ever.

May you keep a Holy Lent.

It is Better to Give Than to Receive

2008-10-06T18:11:00.000-07:00

I don't know how she knew that stewardship season is approaching, but yesterday I overheard Nora telling Marcus her giving plan. "I am going to give away all my money from my fairy wishes box (that's her piggy bank) to other children who don't have any money...and I am going to get paid for that."

Well, sort of.

In other children's spirituality news, we had a wonderful children's chapel service yesterday, complete with a blessing of the (stuffed) animals in honor of St. Francis of Assisi's feast day. I am looking forward to our next children's chapel on November 2nd when we will celebrate All Saints Day! Hope you'll come.

Is it live or is it...

2008-10-02T07:54:00.000-07:00

I am so excited! We're PODCASTING!
Check our website for weekly podcasts from worship at Woodside--music, sermons and other highlights.

Dog...gone.

2008-09-13T18:06:00.001-07:00

We said good-bye to a very good dog yesterday. Sojourner was our first baby--he has been part of our family since just after Marcus and I were married and moved into our first house. And he was the sweetest dog I have ever met. He would let the cat beat up on him, and never minded when the kids pulled his fur or climbed on him. Like most dogs, I guess, he was always happy to see us when we arrived home, always up for a walk. He loved to chase squirrels through the woods, and his favorite snack was raw carrots.

Sojourner was a rescue dog--he had bounced around from home to home until he finally came to us--and that's why we named him Sojourner (although we often just called him "Sojo"). He was a special needs dog. He had a skin condition for which the vet first prescribed a special diet (he was the only vegetarian in the house), and he took steroids, and we tried dozens of different shampoos. He would itch until he had bald patches, and boy did he stink! But about a year ago we finally sorted all his skin issues and finally his coat looked great. And he never, ever protested taking his allergy shot, so long as he got his treat afterwards.

What got him in the end was a tumor growing in his sinus. We had hoped it was just some kind of infection and we tried several different treatments, none of which gave him any relief. Together with our vet, we decided that putting him to sleep was the most humane thing to do.

Before we took him to the vet for the last time, I read to him Dog Heaven, so he (and we) might not feel so sad (although I cried the whole time I was reading to him). After all, it was just one more sojourn, and in dog heaven there are fields to run in, cat-shaped dog biscuits, and angel children. And in dog heaven, dogs get to be where they belong: "with God who made them."

Once he was gone, we were talking with our vet, Dr. Gouri Krishna, and I said that there really didn't seem to be any such thing as a good end for a dog. But she said the most wise and wonderful thing. She said, "But he had lots of good moments in his life, and dogs are better at living in the moment than we are. For them death is just one more moment; it's just the end."

I used to have a bumper sticker on our old car that said "Lord, help me be the person my dog thinks I am." That is still my prayer. And I also pray that I can learn from Sojo how to live more in the moment. Thank you, Sojo, for being such a good dog and for sharing your life with us. We will miss you very much.

Does it Matter if the President Wears Pantyhose?

2008-09-11T07:32:00.001-07:00

One of the best classes I took at Hendrix College had nothing to do with my Religious Studies major, but it was fascinating nonetheless. It was called "Gender, Sexuality and American Politics," and it was taught by one of my favorite professors, Dr. Jay Barth.

Sarah Palin
Originally uploaded by MBS1983

I particularly remember one class session where we watched political ads for women candidates, including a woman who had run for Lieutenant Governor in Arkansas (and lost), Charlie Cole Chaffin. I will never forget this woman, dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt, posed with her hunting rifle and retriever, trying to balance the need to appear both tough and feminine at the same time. She seemed to have it down-this complicated female leader formula (her name is "Charlie" for goodness sakes!), and yet in the end, it didn't really matter.

Who knew that just 12 years after I took that class in college, we would have a presidential race like the one we have this year. For the first time, a woman and an African-American man were vying for a major party's Presidential nomination. And now we have Barak Obama running for President and Sarah Palin running as the Vice-Presidential candidate with John McCain. Wow!

In some ways this is really great. But it has also given me pause. As a woman who has been the first female pastor in both churches that I have served, I think I have some sense of the extra level of scrutiny that can be placed on women leaders at times. I, too, have been pregnant (twice) while being in a public leadership position, and people have questioned my ability to be both an effective pastor and a good mom. And I have even had people say rude, inappropriate and sexist/sexual things to me on occasion (in church of all places--aren't you shocked!) So while being a pastor doesn't really compare with being an elected political leader (but I do, ahem, have REAL responsibilities, too), I think I may understand some of what Gov. Palin has also experienced in her career. And I am excited that there is a woman on one of the presidential tickets!

But I think we need to ask ourselves: when it comes down to it, what matters more? If I can identify with the personal narrative of a candidate or if their policies are in line with my values? This is a tough one, but I hope that all Americans will take seriously the policy positions of both candidates and let that be our guide, rather than just deciding based on whose story is more like our own. I don't expect that all women will support Sarah Palin, just like I wouldn't expect all African-Americans to support Barak Obama, or all white men to support John McCain or Joe Biden just because they are also white men.

As Christians I think that our need to look at each of the candidates policy positions is even more crucial. Our faith should inform our political views because Christ calls us to seek justice and righteousness in this world. The Christian organization, Sojourners has a non-partisan voters resource called "Vote Your Values" that I thought was helpful in looking at political policies broadly and in a Christian context, that you might want to check out, too.

This is going to be an historic election no matter which way it goes and I am excited to be a part of it. I hope that everyone will take advantage of the freedom we have in this country to choose our political leaders, and think, pray and vote!

small wonders

2008-09-03T06:50:00.000-07:00

On our vacation to "wild and wonderful" West Virginia last week, I was the unofficial family photographer. In addition to lots of pictures of the kids (Nora climbing rocks, Graham in the baby backpack...) my eye and my camera was continually drawn to the smallest signs of God's beautiful creation. I have posted a few here:

And because I just can't resist...here's one family photo:

(New) Old Time Religion

2008-08-01T07:10:00.000-07:00

Last night I went with a few other folks from Woodside to the "Church Basement Roadshow: A Rollin' Gospel Revival!" at the Kay Spiritual Life Center at American University. It was set up like an old time revival, but we got to hear three leaders in the Emerging Church movement, Doug Pagitt, Tony Jones and Mark Scandrette, speak about their ideas for the future of Christianity.

As I understand it, folks in this Emergent movement seek to emphasize the personal story of Christianity over the doctrine and dogma of the church. Doug Pagitt (dressed as 19th Century Gospel revivalist "Big Brother" Duke Arnold) began last night by telling us that "there are 1,972 first names in the Bible. And do you know why that is? Because you can't tell the story of God with out telling the stories of the people who participate with God." What they seem to be saying is that of us has an experience of the holy that is unique and valid, and that experience is just as valid as what the church teaches about God. And in fact, the church could learn a lot from the way in which people (especially those who are outside the church) experience God.

Tony Jones showed a video interview with his friend "Trucker Frank", a man who had "been excommunicated from a Christian book store, cheated on by his wife and who had tried to commit suicide." Yet, Trucker Frank had some very powerful insights about faith and seemed to know and follow Jesus in an authentic and honest way.

The other thing about this "new" movement in Christianity is that it emphasizes the practice of faith. Following Jesus is a grand experiment, said Mark Schandrette, and sometimes we do OK, and other times we fail. But it's a life we live. Being a Christian isn't sitting in church for an hour a week. Schandrette shared a story about reaching out to a man called "The Emperor," who lived in a bus and struggled with mental illness and had been ostracized by his family and friends. The Emperor wasn't an easy person to love, but Mark kept trying, even when the Emperor rejected his friendship, and eventually he realized that he "feels more alive when he pushes his own limits and relies on a love that is greater than his own."

I am glad I went to this Rollin' Revival last night--and I want to thank Susan, Delores and Matt for joining me. It gave me a lot to think about and re-energized me!

There's Power in the Blood

2008-06-24T08:09:00.001-07:00

Wow! It's been a really long time since I have posted anything on my blog, and I am sorry about that. But perhaps this story will offer some glimpse into my life at the moment and an explanation for my long absence from the blogosphere.

Warning: This post contains irreverent comments. Please do not proceed without a sense of humor.

I have never been a big fan of the "blood" hymns--you know "There's a fountain filled with blood drawn from Emmanuel's veins...", etc. While I do fervently believe that we are all saved by grace through Jesus Christ, I am not really big on sacrificial atonement theology. And besides, I am squeamish, and it just seems gross to me.

So when I found out that one of our Vacation Bible School songs was "There's Power in the Blood" I was a little unnerved. I wasn't sure I wanted my three year old running around singing at the top of her little lungs: "there's power, there's power, there's wonder-working power in the BLOOD OF THE LAMB." But of course they always make those VBS songs so darn peppy and catchy, and that's exactly what happened. And I have had that song stuck in my head for going on ten days now.

Anyway, on Sunday afternoon, with Vacation Bible School over and done with we were just having a nice, relatively quiet time at home. I was in the yard with Graham, my neighbor and her kids waiting for Nora to come outside to play with them when I heard screaming from inside the house. Marcus bursts through the back door to tell me I have got to come inside NOW! Fearing the worst, I run inside to see blood all over the floor. Sojourner--the dog--had a nosebleed. Nora was freaking out and Marcus was trying to calm her down, so the bleeding dog was wandering all over the house. The place looked like a crime scene! Quickly, I called the animal hospital, got directions and we all loaded up into the car to take Sojo to the vet, spraying Resolve on the carpets on our way out the door.

We still don't know exactly what caused the nosebleed, but two vet visits and $600 later he seems to be on the mend. That night we finally got home, got something to eat and got the kids into bed, and Marcus and I spent the rest of Sunday night cleaning up the house. And the whole time, all I could think of was "there's power, there's power, there's wonder-working power...." Ugh.

Seen God Lately?

2008-05-01T07:14:00.001-07:00

A friend directed me to this cool website: othersix.org.
Where have you found God today? Where do you need to find God today?
Check it out!

They are my kids, too

2008-04-16T18:14:00.000-07:00

It had been a very long day--the first full day that Graham had been with his babysitter--and I was committed to going to an action for Action in Montgomery (AIM) that night. I got a little more than an hour with him and Nora before I had to hop back in the car to fight the rush hour traffic and get to Rockville. I cried all the way there, thinking about missing my babies.

But when I got to the action, I saw the Plum Gar Cobras waiting in the lobby, getting ready to do their cheers. One of the youngest girls said on her way into the large meeting room, "I'm nervous!" I told her that she didn't need to be nervous, that she was going to be great, and she smiled sheepishly, but she was great--waving those little pom poms with her big huge grin. I also heard Ty Mason, a third grader who goes to the after-school program at Good Hope Community Center, get up in front of one thousand people and talk about how "Ms. Cookie" had taught him how to speak in public by making him and his fellow students read their books out loud. And I was in tears again, and I knew that I had made the right decision to come to this action and show my support for this community centers campaign.

I can feel in my bones that maternal instinct that makes me want to protect and provide for my children. I would do anything for them--to make sure that they are healthy and safe and happy, that they have every opportunity to learn and grow and thrive. I am sure that nearly every mother feels this way about her kids, too. But as a Christian, I feel that I can't just fight for the good of my own kids, but that I should do what I can to make sure that all God's children have the love, the care, the opportunities that they need. Those kids, and their parents, who depend on these run down, neglected Montgomery County community centers deserve so much more than they are getting. And those kids are my kids, too.

Back in the Saddle Again

2008-03-03T12:53:00.001-08:00

Saddled...
Originally uploaded by schooksonruss

Yesterday was my first Sunday back at church from my maternity leave, and for the most part it felt good to be back. Everyone welcomed me back so warmly and that really helped. I think they were almost as excited to see me as to meet Graham.

A friend of mine, who is also a pastor and a mom said to me, "Admit it--you couldn't stay home with your kids full time, could you?" And I don't think I could, really. My maternity leave has been such a special time, but I know that God has called me to both being a pastor and a mom, and so I am trying my best to balance doing them both as well as I can. I am really thankful that I have so much help though--I couldn't do any of this without Marcus. And the church has been, and continues to be, so wonderful.

So, giddie up! Let's go!

Ashes to Ashes

2008-02-06T18:50:00.000-08:00

Today is Ash Wednesday and Graham and I met Marcus downtown for a noon service. It was a lovely, contemplative service that included the ritual imposition of ashes, which I always find to be a moving reminder of our brokeness, our mortality, and of God's grace and our redemption.

Before we went to receive our ashes, Marcus asked if I thought that Graham should get ashes on his head as well. My knee-jerk reaction was "No. He's got nothing to repent for." Sure, I'm his mom so I'm biased, but seriously, what sins could a seven week old commit? (His three-year-old sister on the other hand is another story :)

But when Marcus went up to the altar with Graham in his arms the pastor put the sign of a cross on both of their heads.

As I looked at the little black soot mark on my son's little forehead, it made me want to cry. But my tears of sadness soon turned to tears of gratitude and joy. Because the more I thought about it, he, like me, like his dad, like his sweet big sister, like all of us, is human. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Being human means that he is imperfect. He is part of this world and surrounded by great joy and great sorrow. He has within him the capacity for goodness as well as sin. And most of all, he is a child of God--loved, forgiven, and redeemed by God.

It also reminded me of a great article I read in this month's Sojourner's magazine called "The Heresy of the Perfect Parent" by Kari Jo Verhulst. She raises a lot of interesting points, among them questioning the validity of the idea that we, as parents, somehow think it's our job to make our children perfect people--as if. She writes: "For it is in those moments when grace cracks through, and I realize that [my daughter] is not mine, but belongs body and soul in life and in death, to her faithful savior Jesus Christ (to borrow from an old catechism), that I feel the least overwhelmed by the task of mothering her for the foreseeable future."

I am not a perfect person, not a perfect mom. And Graham will not be perfect either. But that's what grace is for after all. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust...

Skipping Church?

2008-01-21T12:20:00.000-08:00

Someone from Woodside asked me the other day why they hadn't seen Marcus and Nora in church lately. The truth is that we have been going to church, just not at Woodside. We are taking advantage of my maternity leave to "church hop" (not shop...just hop) and to hear my friends preach, to visit old friends and to worship in new places to see what other churches are doing. It's been great to worship together as a family. It's also been interesting to be anonymous and have no responsibility on a Sunday morning except to worship God (and try to keep my kids quiet in the pew!). Here's an update on our local church tour:

On Epiphany Sunday we went to Calvary Baptist Church in Washington, DC to hear my good friend Amy Butler preach. The sermon was excellent and the people were very warm and welcoming (Nora loved the nursery). I noted that, at least this particular Sunday there wasn't much congregational singing, and I missed that, although the choral music was beautiful. We were served communion by the ushers and took communion in our pews and it confirmed for me that that way of receiving communion just doesn't feel as meaningful for me as approaching the altar.

The following Sunday was Baptismal Renewal Sunday and we went to Bethesda UMC--the church I served before Woodside. It was special because we got to see a lot of old friends and introduce them to Graham (some of whom said "I didn't even know you were pregnant!"), and because that's the church where Nora was baptized it was very special for us to renew our Baptismal vows there. We heard our friend Jenny Cannon give the sermon and saw the beautiful new chancel renovation (and enjoyed the comfy new pew cushions!).

Last Sunday we went to the church at the other end of our street, St. Luke's Lutheran Church, for their Jazz service. Lutheran services seem a lot like the Catholic Mass to me (all of the liturgy but none of the guilt?) and nearly everything was sung. The music was pretty traditional, except for the accompaniment of a jazz quintet, so that was a little disappointing. But the Postlude, "Jesus is a Rock in a Weary Land," was awesome and the musicians really got into it. Their Bishop preached a homily that covered the Gospel lesson, the church's anniversary and MLK in about 7 minutes, and we had communion again, this time at the altar with real wine (which was pretty exciting for us Methodists). Nora's usually in Sunday school or the nursery when communion is served at Woodside, but she was with this week and got to take communion, which was great. Marcus did a good job explaining the significance to her and she enjoyed being part of the ritual. We walked to church, but still managed to be late. We have actually been late to church every week--not on purpose, just because it's been hard to get our act together. I have even more sympathy for the parents of young children in my church now that I am the mother of two.

In the coming weeks we are planning to go to River Road Unitarian Church to hear another friend preach (and because Marcus is interested in how the Unitarians worship) and to Foundry UMC to worship with some friends. We are planning to skip church one week next month because we'll be on Kiawah Island, SC with my mom, aunt and uncle and grandmother, but other than that, we'll be continuing our tour of local churches, and enjoying my stress-free Saturday nights.

Maternity Leave

2008-01-04T07:30:00.000-08:00

OK, so this isn't the most "spiritual" of posts...but here's what we're up to:

Today, after two weeks of having grandparents here visiting, Graham and I are spending a quiet day at home together. Nora is back at school (and I miss her already) and Marcus is back at work. Nana and Poppy should be getting on an airplane back to Memphis within the hour. And I am still in my pajamas! Graham is dressed, but needs his diaper changed again, and can't decide if he wants to take a nap or not.

The baby thing is certainly easier the second time around--we are much less anxious and used to be sleep deprived. Balancing the needs of an active three year old with a newborn is a different challenge, but so far we're doing OK. It has been great to have family here, but we are looking forward to getting back into a routine.

The biggest challenge for me is just to be in the moment--to enjoy these days with my baby and not try and do too much. I feel some "church withdrawl" and as I look around the house I am constantly making a list of things I need and want to do. But I remind myself that in seven short weeks I will be back to the church and I will long for lazy these mornings with Graham and evenings doing puzzles and reading books with Nora.

An Advent Story

2007-12-07T07:25:00.001-08:00

This is so worth reading...

http://www.textweek.com/advent_story.htm

The First Week of Advent

2007-12-03T13:10:00.000-08:00

All around us we observe a pregnant creation. The difficult times of pain throughout the world are simply birth pangs. But it's not only around us; it's within us. The Spirit of God is arousing us within. We're also feeling the birth pangs...

That is why waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in the waiting. We, of course, don't see that it is enlarging us. But the longer we wait, the larger we become and the more joyful our expectancy.

from Romans 8, The Message version

Yet Another Reason I Love My Church Family

2007-11-30T06:37:00.000-08:00

It's true--church families can be messy and frustrating at times. But there are also lots of reasons to love them. Here's one...

On Thursday night we had a worship planning meeting at my house because Marcus is travelling for work. My plan was to set up Nora with a DVD so that she would be occupied while we met (and maybe, just maybe, fall asleep). But I didn't want her to be all the way down in the basement family room where we keep the TV while we met upstairs, so I decided to move the TV to my room (a brilliant idea when you are 8+ months pregnant). So I get the TV upstairs and set it down on the bed so I can move stuff off the dresser, and just as I turn around it rolls off the bed and lands with a loud crash on the floor. Luckily there wasn't any broken glass and it didn't land on anyone's foot, but as I turned it over I heard the sickening sound of broken pieces inside. So now Nora is hysterical (because it scared the daylights out of both of us, and because she really wanted to watch TV) and it's 45 minutes before people are supposed to arrive for the meeting and I am wondering what the heck I am going to do. I decided to run up to the church and borrow the TV from the youth room (so I ended up hauling yet another TV down two flights of stairs like an idiot) and I got it home and set up before everyone came over and Nora was completely happy, but I was frazzled.

After the meeting I shared this story with a couple of people, Randy and Rebecca, because I knew that I was going to have to tell Marcus when he called and I was dreading that. They were supportive and assured me that Marcus would be OK--which he was, mostly. The next day I told the story to one other person at church, Ed, who I thought might have an idea where I could get another used TV cheap. Ed said that he would be on the look out for me. Less than an hour later I got a call from Rebecca who told me that she and her husband were planning to buy a new TV this weekend anyway, and would I like to have their old one. Then this morning I got a call from yet another person, Jerry, who had talked to Ed and he had a TV that he wanted to bring over to me, which I gratefully declined. Then I told this story to Marie who said that if we still needed one, she had one we could have!

This is just one great example of the love that church people have for one another most of the time. If you need something--friendship, support, prayers, food, or even a TV--the church family is a good place to go because, in their hearts, people are kind, generous, and loving.

Thanks everybody!

Blogging Makes Good Company

2007-11-16T16:50:00.000-08:00

You'll never guess who else has a blog...

That's right. Screech, the mascot for the Washington Nationals Baseball Team. So now my new goal is to post more frequently than Screech. But the question is: whose blog would Nora rather read?

Rabble-Rouser for Peace

2007-11-14T10:11:00.000-08:00

Last night a group of us from Woodside went to the National Cathedral to hear Archbishop Desmond Tutu speak on the Spirituality of Reconciliation. I had the privilege of taking a class with Archbishop Tutu when I was in seminary at Emory University, so I knew how wonderful he is and I was excited to share that experience with others. He continues to amaze me with his wisdom, his humor and the depth of his faith which leads him to believe (in spite of all the horrors in this world, including the ones that he has witnessed in South Africa) that human beings are inherently good and made in the image of God. You can watch his whole speech on the National Cathedral website, but here are some of my favorite quotes from last night (with a little paraphasing):

The heart of the Christian gospel isn't love...it is reconciliation.

Are there some things that are unforgivable? Yes...on a human level. But we are created in the image of God and called to be God's moral agents in the world...to strive to be perfectly loving as God is perfectly loving.

God never gives up on us. When we fall down, God picks us up, dusts us off and says, "Try again."

You have the power to be a saint...go for it, dude!

Volunteers in Mission

2007-10-20T11:05:00.000-07:00

I am behind in my blogging, but I wanted to post a few pictures from our amazing trip to New Iberia, Louisiana Ocotober 6-13th. It was such a great trip because of the wonderful people from Woodside who went, and because of the inspiring people we worked with down there. It's true what people say, especially in the lower Ninth Ward of New Orleans--there's still so much work to be done. But it's amazing to see the people returning to their homes and neighborhoods, rebuilding their lives, and also to know how many people have been part of the rebuilding effort. I am proud to say that the United Methodist Church has been one of the biggest contributors to the rebuilding efforts of the Gulf Coast communities that were struck by hurricanes Katrina and Rita two years ago!

I saw two of the women who went on the trip today, and asked them how their re-adjustment was going. One said it took her until mid-week to adjust to sitting behind a desk/computer at work all day. The other said that she keeps forgetting that people don't wave at each other when their driving here (but wouldn't it be a nicer place if they did?!) Reverse culture-shock!

Enjoy the photos.

We were greeted at the Louis Armstrong airport in New Orleans by a jazz band.

An abandoned house in the lower Ninth Ward--many people have not come back to this neighborhood, making it feel like a ghost town. But in another neighborhood, Gentilly, which was also devastated when the levees broke, there's a new playground!

Two of our team members, Delores Pinkney (L) and Elizabeth Moore (R), work with Gwen Dairy, a resident of Jeanerette, LA, and homeowner of one of the four homes our team worked on during the week.

Our team enjoyed lots of good food! Here we are having dinner out at Charlie's in New Iberia, LA--a great place for cajun food.

Jesus Camp

2007-10-01T11:07:00.001-07:00

Jesus Camp
Originally uploaded by .Fabio

Last night Marcus and I watched the documentary "Jesus Camp" which is about a group of Evangelical Christians and their children's ministry. Early in the film, the children's minister, "Pastor Becky," is being interviewed and she says "children are just so use-able." Perhaps she meant "useful" but as the film progressed, it was clear that "use-able" is much more apt. There were children being home schooled in subjects like creationism and how global warming is a hoax. There were children being led to pray over a cardboard cut-out of George W. Bush. There were children weeping and throwing themselves to their knees to repent of their sins. There were children witnessing to adults--passing out tracts and asking them "if you were to die today, do you know where you would go?" And there were children being told that "one-third of your friends would be here tonight" if it weren't for abortions that had killed them. And when I say children, I mean even little kids, like 4 and 5 years old. It was scary and made me deeply sad.

But it also made me wonder--how do we teach our children the values and beliefs of our faith without manipulating them or indoctrinating them? How do we raise them to be faithful people without scaring the hell out of them? How do we teach the power and truth of the gospel without watering it down too much, and yet also make it possible for our children to understand?

The parents and pastors in the film didn't actually seem to think that indoctrination was such a bad thing. "Our enemies [meaning Muslims, of course] do the same thing with their children, and excuse me, but we have the TRUTH," Pastor Becky says. And they also didn't seem themselves as coercive--just that they completely limit their children's exposure to any other ideas. One scene that gave me a laugh was when Rachael, one of the little girls in the film, explained how there are some churches where God just isn't there. And you can tell which ones they are because of how they worship. "God is only in those churches where people jump up and down and shout to Jesus--that's how you can tell Jesus is there." So I am sure she would think that our church was one of the God-forsaken ones.

It also made me kind of sad to think that there are people out there who will see this film and think that all Christians are of this ilk. Maybe not many people, but there are some who are so naturally hostile to people of faith that a film like this, about a particularly fundamentalist segment of the Christian community, would give them additional fodder to dismiss Christianity all together.

The other day I ran into one of my neighbors whose child goes to a local Christian (Episcopal) private school. This father was incensed that in chapel recently, the pastor had been teaching "creationism". I was pretty shocked myself, and replied, "really?!" "Yes, he was even saying that God had made man in his own image and woman from man..." I was a little confused at this point, and responded, "well, that is the story from the Bible." "Yes, but there are more enlightened versions of the story around today," he said.

So, to offer some responses to my own questions, I guess I would say that as a pastor and a parent, I do hope to raise my children with respect for the stories, beliefs, values and traditions of our faith, but to also give them the tools to be critical thinkers and accept the Christian faith for themselves when they are old enough. It so important for them to know and understand the stories, the rituals and the beliefs so they can hopefully choose them for themselves some day, that's why they do need to go to church and Sunday school, and we need to practice our faith at home and out in the world, too. But I also think it's good for them to be exposed to other beliefs, other traditions, other ways of viewing the world, and for them to understand what makes us different from people of other faiths (or people who don't have a religion at all), but not better.

I think it would be interesting to know what those children from "Jesus Camp" are like 10 or 15 years from now, to know if they are still Christians, and if their views have changed at all. I just pray that they are not scarred for life.

Moms' National Anthem

2007-09-28T07:54:00.001-07:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=anSpBUxsgAU

This is hilarious. For those of us with little ones...there's so much to look forward to.

And a big hug and thanks to my mom and my mother-in-law for everything!

Justice for All?

2007-09-21T09:15:00.001-07:00

A few weeks ago, a member of our church submitted a prayer request on her attendance card. "Justice for the Jena 6," she wrote. I wasn't sure who the Jena 6 were or what the situation was, so the next time I saw her in person I asked her. "You don't know?" she responded, incredulous. Then she explained to me the story of a small town in Louisiana where on the grounds at the local high school there was a tree where white students liked to hang out. When some of the black students asked school officials if they could sit there too, the response was "sit wherever you want." So the next day, some of the black students sat under the tree. The following day there were nooses hung from the branches of the tree. School officials recommended that the students who hung the nooses be expelled, but the school board dismissed it as a prank. Racial tensions increased and soon fights broke out--white versus black, black versus white. When one white student was injured in one of these confrontations, six black young men were arrested. They were in prison for months as their families tried to pay their bail. So far, one young man, Mychal Bell, has been convicted (by and all white jury) and could go to jail for 22 years. The others still await trials. (You can read more here.)

Most of us have by now probably heard about the Jena 6 because yesterday people from all over the country travelled to Jena, Louisiana, for a large protest. There were analogies being made to the Civil Rights movement of the 1960's, and the anger and outrage that galvanized people into action. I heard one news report in which they interviewed a (white) pastor in Jena, who said that he didn't understand why his community was coming under so much condemnation. "Many of the places that these buses are driving through have just as much racism and injustice as Jena, LA," he said. He's got a point, but it was still pretty powerful to see so many people gathered together to make the statement that racial injustice must end.

I don't consider myself an expert on racial issues, nor do I think that I am completely free from all racial bias (although I work on it all the time). But it saddens and angers me that this kind of blatant, institutional racism--as well as more subtle forms of racism and prejudice--still exist in our country. Having grown up in a pretty homogeneous small town in the south, I feel so blessed to now live in a community that is racially and ethnically diverse, and to pastor a church that also reflects that diversity.

My prayers are with the Jena 6 and their families. But also with the whole community of Jena--and especially with all those confused and angry young people at that high school. And with our country as we still seek healing from the sins of racism--past and present. Christ have mercy.

Justice should be colorblind
Originally uploaded by CharlesMedia™

Bad Mommy/ Bad Pastor Day

2007-09-05T18:16:00.001-07:00

Ever have one of those days when you wish you could get a do-over?

Today I was a bad mommy AND a bad pastor, too. I spoke too quickly, judged too harshly, over reacted. I talked more than I listened. I regretted my behavior almost immediately, but felt too hurt and angry to ask for forgiveness or make amends.

So, I'm human, right? I was tired and fed up, and I have bad days like everyone else. But it still doesn't feel good.

A couple of weeks ago in my pregnancy yoga class one of the women confessed that her biggest anxiety about having a baby was whether or not she would be a good parent. I told her, "some days you won't be a good parent. But many other days you will. And your child will forgive you." Another woman in the class likened it to being a teacher (which they both were) and that sometimes you have good teacher days--other days not so good. But the kids get over it.

Everyone has those days when they need a little extra grace. Today was one of those days for me. Thank God for grace and forgiveness.

I'm Going to Regret This When I Get Back huh?
Originally uploaded by fry fry!

Requiem for New Orleans

2007-08-24T11:50:00.000-07:00

Hurricane Katrina - Picture Originally uploaded by Mary-Jane Maybury

We recently watched Spike Lee's documentary "When the Levees Broke: A Requiem in Four Acts" which is about the devastation brought to New Orleans and the surrounding area by Hurricane Katrina and the destruction of the levees around the city. This coming week marks the second anniversary of that tragedy, and as we watched this four hour documentary, I was reminded of what a horrible, appalling event that was. As the headlines fade, we tend to forget about the devastation, the human suffering, the injustice. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend that you watch it. I promise it will open your eyes, break your heart, and make you mad.

Two weeks ago we blessed three people from our congregation who were evacuees from New Orleans following Katrina, and who are now returning to their homes there. Hildebrand, Bill and Evelyn are all in their 80's, but they are strong, brave, proud people with deep roots in New Orleans, and although we will miss them greatly, I am so glad they are going back home. New Orleans needs people like them in order to rebuild, and our prayers go with them.

Leaving Church

2007-08-19T17:52:00.001-07:00

This summer I read a book that really made me stop and think--about my life, my vocation, about the church. It's called Leaving Church by Barbara Brown Taylor. Barbara Brown Taylor is an Episcopalian priest and one of the best preachers alive today. In this book she recounts how and why she went into ordained ministry, and why after 20 years, she left the local church to teach religion at a small liberal arts college in Georgia. This book came out a while ago and to be honest I have been afraid to read it--afraid that I would resonate with it too much, perhaps; or afraid that it would make me question my own sense of call and commitment to the local church. And it did. But as it turns out, that's not such a bad thing.Because every now and then it's important to re-evaluate why you're doing something and if it's still where God is calling you to be.

Brown Taylor writes that although she went into the ministry because she loved God and wanted to be as close to the Holy as possible, she found that much of the time in ministry she was so busy doing God's work, she lost that mystical connection with God that comes from just being, which was what drew her into ministry in the first place. I can relate to that. I accepted a call into the ministry because I love God, and I love people. But there are plenty of things in the church that aren't about God at all, and there are lots of people who are pretty tough to love.

But I also learned some things from her story about how to keep from getting burned out on church (and, by the way, I think this goes for anyone who's deeply involved in a church, and not just ordained clergy). First, take time to do the things that remind you of why you answered a call to ministry in the first place. For me, that means going on a VIM trip to Louisiana in October (even though at 7 months pregnant I won't be the biggest help). My call came to me through the experiences of mission/social justice work, and I need to reconnect with that passion again.

The second thing I learned (and this one is more for the clergy out there, than for the laity) is that, while ministry requires you to be everyone's pastor, you also need to let yourself have relationships with people who feed your soul, even within the church. Brown Taylor writes: "...I wound up with a couple I had always thought I would enjoy but whom I never really got to know since they did not serve on any committees and were never, as far as I knew, in crisis. We sat down in adjacent rocking chairs with plates full of lobster and corn balanced on our laps, laughing so much that I spit food clear across the porch. I did not wonder why I had not sought them out earlier because I already knew the answer. By my rules, caring for troubled people always took precedence over enjoying delightful people, and the line of troubled people never ended. Sitting there with corn stuck between my teeth, I wondered why I had not changed that rule sooner." Being everyone's pastor, means everyone. The troubled people, and the delightful people. Don't forget the people who are easy to love, too, because in reality they usually out number those who make it hard.

The other really important thing I took away from this book was Brown Taylor's understanding of the church as one who had been deeply inside it, and now, after leaving, felt like more of an outsider. She writes: "The clear message was that...God lived in the world. If churches saw their mission in the same way, there is no telling what might happen. What if people were invited to come tell what they already know of God instead of learn what they are supposed to believe? What if they were blessed for what they were doing in the world instead of chastened for not doing more at church? What if church felt more like a way station than a destination? What if the church's job were to move people out the door instead of trying to keep them in, by convincing them that God needed them more in the world than in the church?"

Really...what if?

I highly recommend this book--especially for pastors--but for anyone who has struggled with the church. It has given me a lot to think about. And no, I'm not leaving church. And even more importantly, I have been reminded about why I am staying.

Faith Night Follow-up: Report from the Field

2007-08-11T12:14:00.001-07:00

Washington Nationals Baseball at RFK Stadium-Washington, DC
Originally uploaded by Michael6076

So, last Sunday afternoon Marcus, Nora and I join my friend from seminary, Amy-Ellen and her boyfriend Jason at the Washington Nationals vs. St. Louis Cardinals Baseball game which had been designated as "Faith Night." As I said before, this was actually a coincidence. We weren't there for "Faith Night," even though we are, I suppose, part of the marketing demographic for this sort of thing given that we are Christians. But we were there mainly because of Marcus and Amy-Ellen's inexplicable (in my opinion) love for the St. Louis Cardinals.

But since I wrote about this previously, I thought I would offer a little follow up here.

First of all, the big deal that some people were making about the Washington Nationals "endorsing" this "Christian" event was in my mind totally blown out of proportion. A mountain out of a molehill, I would say. Because during the entire game there wasn't even a single reference to any church (except the church of baseball, of course). There wasn't anyone handing out tracts. There were no Veggie Tale characters mixing it up with the presidents, no Bible verses displayed on the big screen. The only thing that might count was that the contemporary Christian band Mercy Me sang "God Bless America" during the seventh inning stretch. But they ALWAYS sing that song at that point in the game, and at least Mercy Me sounded good. (Sometimes it isn't even in tune--making it that much more painful.)

Secondly, unless you already knew about the "Faith Night" event that was to take place after the game, you never would have had known it was going on. In fact, as far as I could tell, unless you had already bought your ticket to the concert in advance, you couldn't even stay afterwards for the concert! Which, I think, proves my earlier point, that this was not an effective evangelization tool; this was about marketing Christianity to people who have already bought in. Faith Night was for the already converted. Church groups and individual Christians who heard about the event on the Christian radio stations were the ones who bought the tickets. The two drunks sitting in front of us, the ones who (OK, let me make an assumption here) may really need to hear about the Gospel of Jesus Christ, had no idea about Faith Night, and even if they had, they didn't have tickets to the concert, so too bad for them.

Now, some people that I really like and respect commented on my previous post that "God can use all things for good" and that faith night, though it might be a bit crass and commercial, might offer the opportunity for someones life to be changed. And that's a good point--who am I to doubt the power of God.

I for one would never say that we self-professing Christians don't need need to have our faith strengthened by events like these, if that's what works for you. It's also possible that some good church-going Christians brought some of their seeker friends with them, and maybe that made a connection--I think that kind of person-to-person evangelism is the most effective kind anyway. But as for "Faith Night" being somehow exclusive to people of other faiths, and as for it being some great opportunity for searching people to come to Christ, well, I'm still not buying it.

Life and Death

2007-07-28T12:44:00.001-07:00

life and death
Originally uploaded by * INVERSEFUNCTION

Yesterday the matriarch of our congregation died, quickly and peacefully, with one of her daughters and two granddaughters by her side. I arrived at the hospital about an hour later to wait with them for the funeral home to come and take her body to prepare it for burial. It was a sad, but also a holy time, a time for giving thanks, as death can be, especially when the person who has died has lived a long, full life.

It has been said that death comes in threes, and this is the second one in our church in the last two weeks. This week I also spent some time with a woman who we thought was near death, but, thankfully, it seems like she's doing better and getting stronger. So maybe the third will wait a while yet.

Being a part of the end of life is one of the privileges of my role as a pastor, for it is a sacred journey to move from this life to the life eternal, and it's a blessing for me to do what I can to comfort those left behind. But it can also be sad and even sometimes emotionally draining, because I, too, share in the grief.

Today in my pregnancy yoga class I noticed this juxtaposition for the first time: I am, at this moment, literally a bearer of life, and that is a strange and wonderful thing to be in the midst of death.

At the beginning of this yoga class we go around the room and do a "check-in" so that people can share where they are in their pregnancy and how they are feeling. Most of the time it's complaints of swollen feet or back pain or trouble sleeping, combined with the elation of feeling the baby move, and anticipating (with mixed emotions) the birth process. Today when it was my turn, I shared that physically I feel fine, but that what I was carrying was mostly spiritual restlessness. I told them that I had lately felt surrounded by death, and yet I was also aware that I was in the process of bringing forth new life, and my emotions are swirling. So I warned them, "So if I burst into tears during pigeon pose, that's why," and the room full of equally hormonal women all nodded sympathetically, offering me their permission to break down if I needed to.

Well, I didn't break down. Instead, leaving yoga class, I felt this great sense of hopefulness from being surrounded by so much life. And an awareness and gratitude for both life and death which are part of my life, part of all human life and are each blessings from God.

Blog Envy

2007-07-27T12:16:00.001-07:00

envy
Originally uploaded by bookgrl

I am really, really blessed to have this cool friend, Amy Butler who is not only really fun and funny and smart and a great fashion consultant, she's also another young woman pastor, and being friends with her makes me feel like maybe I am not so weird after all. Amy has had a blog for a while now and she's a really disciplined writer. She's very self-depricating about it all, but not only is her blog funny and poignent, but many of her entries are profoundly moving. I have even been brought to tears some of the things she has written.

So Amy has always been my blogging hero, and I know that the Bible says not to be envious, but I admit I am a little bit jealous of her blog. But then today she told me some news that made me really have blog envy: she might get published. And I don't mean on the internet (anyone can get "published" on the internet), I mean like in a BOOK! A writing agent in L.A. was forwarded some of her blog entries and she is trying to get them published!

Seriously, Amy, I am really excited for you and wish you all the best! Maybe someday I'll be as cool as you :)

Stage Fright

2007-07-20T12:15:00.001-07:00

Isiah Leggett - County Executive
Originally uploaded by Alan Bowser

This is Ike Leggett with two girls from Woodside (Rachel, on the left, and Julia). I am not sure who took this photo or when, but I love it. It looks like Rachel is interviewing him, which, knowing her, she very well may be!

Last night Woodside opened our fellowship hall for a community "town hall meeting" with County Executive Isaiah "Ike" Leggett. For those of you who live outside of the DC area, the County Exec is kind of like the governor of Montgomery County in terms of his (or her) responsibility/power, the issues and numbers of constituents. So, basically, he's pretty much a big wig, but, I will say, that at least on a personal level Ike Leggett is a pretty nice guy. I respect the fact that he's willing to have these town hall meetings in the various communities in the County and open himself up to questions (and criticism) and there were plenty of both last night. It was exciting for Woodside to host such an event, too, and so I naturally took the opportunity to insert myself into the program (briefly) in order to, hopefully, give a positive impression of the church. I offered to give some words of welcome, an offer which the organizers readily embraced, but I am sorry to say, that, at least in my own estimation, I bombed.

Something happened when I got up in front of those 350 people which rarely happens to me any more, but still occasionally trips me up: I got stage fright. I am not sure if it was that I had been running around like a chicken with my head cut off, trying to be (literally) four places at once just before I got up to speak, or perhaps I hadn't really thought through was it was that I should say. Or maybe it was the fact that it was ridiculously hot in that fellowship hall and I was worried and embarrassed (disclaimer: the A/C was running full blast but they had brought in these TV lights and the place was packed, so it felt like it was about 90 degrees, and humid). Whatever it was, when I got the mic, I froze inside. I said some of the right things but all in the wrong way. And then I rushed off the stage as soon as I could. I even forgot to introduce the County Executive! Oh well, so much for making a good impression for the church.

Someone told me recently that public speaking is most people's number one fear--more than heights, or snakes, or enclosed places...even death! While most of the time it's not a problem for me, there are times when I do clam up. It helps to know, though, that I'm not alone!

The Church of Baseball?

2007-06-29T06:08:00.001-07:00

"I believe in the Church of Baseball. I've tried all the major religions, and most of the minor ones. I've worshipped Buddha, Allah, Brahma, Vishnu, Siva, trees, mushrooms, and Isadora Duncan. I know things. For instance, there are 108 beads in a Catholic rosary and there are 108 stitches in a baseball. When I heard that, I gave Jesus a chance. But it just didn't work out between us. The Lord laid too much guilt on me. I prefer metaphysics to theology. You see, there's no guilt in baseball, and it's never boring..." Annie Savoy (from the movie Bull Durham).

In yesterday's Washington Post, columnist Marc Fisher wrote about the "unsavory mix of peanuts, cracker jacks and Jesus" at the Washington Nationals ballpark. He was specifically criticizing the initiative of a Christian marketing company to have "Faith nights" at major and minor league baseball games. The Washington Nationals will have their "Faith Night" on August 5th when the Nats play the St. Louis Cardinals, and for an extra $10 Christian fans will be able to hear a concert by the band MercyMe and meet Bob the Tomato and Larry the Cucumber from Veggie Tales.

Fisher's criticism of Faith Night was that it was exclusive to people of other faiths and that baseball is, in itself, a kind of religion (that's when he quoted the character Annie Savoy from the movie Bull Durham). The organizers of the event claim that it's no different from Realtors' Night, Disco Night, 4-H Night or Hispanic Heritage Night at the ballpark and that no one should take offense because all are welcome to come (or not). Of course, part of what is driving this critique has to do with the history of the Nats and their involvement with an evangelical chaplain program, Baseball Chapel, and the message that some of their chaplains were preaching about the eternal damnation of people of other faiths.

Now I am as PC as the next person, and I hear and understand these critiques about Christian exclusivity, and, honestly, I don't really buy it. Not when it comes to Faith Night anyway (the Baseball Chapel thing is a different story). That's not was offends me about "Faith Night." What really offends me is the idea that Christianity is something to be marketed in the first place. That our faith should be packaged and sold, promoted by animated characters, and that there's a group out there telling baseball execs that they should hold Christian Faith Nights because they can deliver "5,000-15,000 more in ticket sales" by holding a Christian rock concert at the ballpark. What would Jesus think about all this, do you suppose?

This week's Gospel lesson from the Revised Common Lectionary is from Luke 9:51-62. In it Jesus is heading toward Jerusalem where he will face his trial and execution, and he's talking with the disciples about what it means to follow him. And as usual, they don't get it. When some other folks come along and also want to follow Jesus he says: "Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head." To another he said, "Follow me." But he said, "Lord, first let me go and bury my father." But Jesus said to him, "Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God." Another said, "I will follow you, Lord; but let me first say farewell to those at my home." Jesus said to him, "No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God."

I could be wrong (it's happened before) but I don't think Jesus is saying here that we should use baseball games as a way to bring people to Christ. I think he's saying that our Christian faith calls us to a life of worship and devotion, of sacrifice and service, of humility and compassion. Our faith is a way of life, not a product to be bought and sold, and exchanged when it doesn't meet our needs any more. And I think there's a very fine line between evangelism and "marketing," between being relevant and selling out. A Christian "faith night" at a baseball game should be different from Realtor's Night. Maybe instead of buying peanuts and cracker jacks, we could take up a collection to feed the hungry children of Washington, DC? Or organize people to walk from the ballpark to the Capitol to draw attention to the suffering of God's people in Darfur? Those might be more authentic ways to combine Christianity and a large secular sporting event.

Coincidentally, Marcus and I have tickets to this game on August 5th. Not because it's Faith Night, but because Marcus also worships the St. Louis Cardinals. We're going to worship at the Church of Baseball. But I'll let you know if we run into Bob the Tomato.

There Are 108 Stitches in a Baseball
Originally uploaded by B Tal

We're Expecting

2007-06-25T11:45:00.001-07:00

Well, I made the big announcement in church yesterday...Marcus, Nora and I will be welcoming a new baby into our family around Christmas time!

Since there are already going to be four new babies in the nursery in the next six months, we figured we ought to do our part, too, to keep the church growing. So, make that FIVE new babies!

We are so excited (and nervous and anxious and tired already), and it was such a good feeling to hear from so many other folks at church how excited they are, too. Because it's a wonderful thing when a baby is born. Babies are signs of new life and hope. And babies also bring big changes. Things are a bit more chaotic for a while. There's less sleep, and lots more laundry. Eventually everything adjusts--we adapt, we survive, we learn how to cope. Even big sisters (so I hear). It's all a good thing. And what a blessing to have a supportive, caring community gathered around you when the new baby comes.

The funny thing, however, about the pastor having a baby is that it doesn't just affect one family system (the Meeks/Cornwell family will definitely be rocked!) but it affects the church family system, too. I will be away on maternityleave for 8 weeks, may possibly miss Christmas at Woodside all together, and there will be no one "in charge" while I am gone (not that I really have the delusion that I am ever really "in charge" even when I am there, right?)

So just like at home, at church we will plan and prepare, delegate and empower--I have already asked Dr. Warren Ebinger, beloved Pastor Emeritus, if he would be on call for Christmas and for pastoral care and some preaching while I am gone. We do the best we can to get ready, knowing that there will always be some things we can't anticipate. But we will adapt and survive and learn to cope. It's all a good thing! And what a blessing to have a supportive, caring community gathered around when a baby comes.

Baby being baptized
Originally uploaded by jaja_rita

Blood and Tears

2007-06-05T19:13:00.000-07:00

Twice in the last three days Nora has had accidents that involved blood and tears.

On Sunday night, we were getting ready for bed and she was bouncing on her new "big girl" bed. Just as I was asking her not to do that ("you might fall and bump your...") she hit her chin and front teeth on the head board. First there was the bloody lip, then there was the inconsolable sobbing. She finally stopped crying when she just fell asleep in my arms about thirty minutes later.

Then tonight we went for a walk with Sojo along the Sligo Creek Trail and she was begging me to stop by the creek so she could throw some rocks in. So we stopped and she was standing on a big, stone block in the middle of the creek that--I realized too late--was a little wet and slippery. One good, strong toss and she ended up face down in the water, nose scraped, mouth bleeding, again, all wet. And more of the inconsolable sobbing. I finally got her calmed down enough to convince her to go back in the jogger so we could go home, but what had started out as a lovely evening, ended up with both of us wet and miserable.

It's wonderful being two years old. Nora has discovered that there are more and more things that she can do for herself, and her independent spirit is a beautiful thing. But I am also realizing more and more that, as her mother, I cannot protect her from everything. I can't prevent her from making mistakes, getting hurt, even falling on her face.

In her book The Year of Magical Thinking, Joan Didion writes about her daughter:
You're safe, I remember whispering to Quintana when I first saw her in the ICU and UCLA. I'm here. You're going to be all right...It occurred to me during those weeks that this had been, since the day we brought her home [as a baby] from St. John's hospital in Santa Monica my basic promise to her. She would be all right. It also occurred to me that this was a promise I could not keep. I could not always take care of her...Things happened in life that mothers could not prevent or fix.

Of course, Didion's daughter had a brain aneurysm and mine has a bloody lip and scrapes on her nose and chin, but it's still the same feeling. Things happen in life that mothers cannot prevent or fix. And it's really scary and painful to realize that. Because I love my child more than anything in the world. I never want her to experience pain or suffering. But she does and will, and I can't do a damn thing about it.

And then I wonder--is this how God feels about us?

I will be the first one to admit that the parental metaphor for God is limited and, at times, unhelpful--even hurtful--for some people. But then there are other times when, as a parent, I think, if I love my child this much, and want to protect her and comfort her and see her live and grow and thrive this much...how much more does God want that for us?

I feel certain there are times when God watches us doing something and thinks don't do that you're going to fall and bump your...oh, ouch. And yet God loves us enough to let us be free to mess up, to fall on our faces, to bump our chins. And when we cry inconsolably, God's there, too, ready to wipe away the tears.

Look, God’s home is now among his people! He will live with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them. He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.

Revelation 21:3-4 (New Living Translation)

The Un-tied Methodist Church

2007-05-31T12:04:00.001-07:00

Last week was the Baltimore-Washington Annual Conference, and it was a saddening and discouraging conference in many ways. Although Annual Conference is supposed to be about "holy conferencing" or the open, respectful, prayerful dialogue that happens by the power of the Spirit, there was a lot of politics, distrust, fear, and division.

One of the most disappointing things to me was that a petition to remove the language from our Book of Discipline that says "we do not condone the practice of homosexuality and believe that the practice of homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teachings" was defeated. I believe that this language needs to be removed because I do not believe that homosexuality, in and of itself is "incompatible" with Christianity. There are all kinds of sexual immorality (try adultery, promiscuous sexual behavior outside of marriage, child abuse), and there are also plenty of sexually ethical and moral gay people in loving, healthy, committed, monogamous relationships. There are scriptures that refer to homosexual sex as "an abomination" to God, but there are also scriptures that say that women should be silent in church, that condones slavery, that we should not eat shellfish because it is an "abomination," but somehow we have found ways to exegete and interpret these verses. It's only the scriptures that refer to homosexuality that we continue to read literally.

But perhaps even more disheartening to me than the failure of our conference to pass this petition, was the total lack of conversation around the issue. Both sides continue to talk past each other--not responding to the other's concerns, not really hearing what the other has to say.

There were also a lot of politics--and I guess I should have expected that, since it's the year before our General Conference and we were electing delegates to represent us there, and this is Washington, after all. But it wasn't politics in the good sense, it was nasty, distrustful, are-you-with-us-or-against-us kind of stuff. Yuck.

There were good things about Conference--it wasn't all bad. There was a really challenging and inspiring Bible study presented by the pastor and some members of the Hot Metal Bridge Faith Community in Pittsburgh who challenged us to rethink the mission and purpose of the church. And the music was AWESOME. Mark A. Miller and his band "Subject to Change" gave us the most uplifting, fun music we have had in years.

In fact, the last song we sang at conference, during the ordination service was one that went something like this: I need you, you need me, we are a part of God's body. Stand with me, agree with me, you are a part of me, I need you to survive.

And I burst into tears at that point, wondering how we could sing this after all that had happened and the ugliness and division that was so rampant in the church right now. My friend Ginger put her arm around me and said, "We keep singing it until we can live it."

Yes, we will. We must. Just keep singing.

Fractured
Originally uploaded by peglegmeggg

Humility Embodied

2007-05-14T14:26:00.000-07:00

Last week I spent four days at a conference in Indianapolis, IN, for young (or, rather, novice) clergy. Indianapolis is home of Eli Lilly, the makers of Prozac and other pharmaceuticals, whose endowment funds many good causes, including numerous Transition into Ministry programs like the one that I was part of the past two years. It was exciting to be around 80 other young pastors who were in their first 1-5 years of ministry and who are as passionate, committed, and energized as I am (on my good days).

But the best part of the conference was to hear from Pastor Heidi Neumark, a Lutheran Pastor in New York City who has written one of the best books on the pastoral life that I have ever read.

For nineteen years, Neumark pastored the Lutheran Church of the Transfiguration in the South Bronx, an economically depressed, drug and crime ridden part of the city. And yet, her book, and her ministry is so full of hope! After reading this book, I thought, this woman is amazing. And she is, but the picture I had of her in my mind was totally different from who she is in real life.

I don't know why, but I expected someone who embodied boldness--someone who would be strongly spoken, visibly passionate, charismatic. But Heidi (although clearly strong and passionate, and charismatic in her own way) was not at all as I expected her. Instead, the word I would use to describe her would be humble. She was soft spoken, clearly very introverted, and embodied humility, from they way she dressed, to the self-depricating way that she described her ministry. It was such a helpful reminder to me that there is not one personality that reflects successful pastoral ministry (we don't all have to be Rick Warren--thank you Jesus.) and what a beautiful and powerful fruit of the Spirit humility is. It's not a quality you see much of--not even among pastors--and it was interesting to note how uncomfortable Heidi's deep humility made some people. But it's a gift I wish I had more of.

By the way, I strongly encourage you to read her book, Breathing Space: A Spiritual Journey Through the South Bronx (and if you buy it through this Amazon link, Woodside church gets a little commission...:)

Two Little Waifs - Hunts Point 8/2/06
Originally uploaded by Brooklyn Hilary.

Soul Tending

2007-05-12T12:14:00.000-07:00

When I need to feed my soul, the best place for me to do that is the beach. The sound of the surf, the smell of salt air, sand between my toes...it relaxes, restores, refeshes me. (See picture at left of Nora and me on the beach at Assateague last summer).

Marcus, on the other hand, is a mountain man.

For him, relaxing is packing up the tent, the backpacks and the dog and heading for the hills to hike and sleep beneath the stars. (This other picture is actually from our trip to Colorado in January, but you get the point.)

The past two weekends we have been blessed to get to do both of these things that we love. Last weekend we made a quick trip to a friend's beach house in Fenwick Island, MD. (It's so great to have generous friends...and even better to have generous friends with beach houses!) It was so good to get away just for a couple of days, and I came back feeling like a new person.

And this morning we went to hike on Sugarloaf Mountain. It was so fun seeing Nora climb all over the rocks (so far we are not sure if she prefers the beach or the mountains...she is terrified of the waves, but also of caterpillars), and we got to take in some beautiful views, have a picnic lunch and even happened upon a little festival at the Sugarloaf Mountain Vineyard where we got ice cream and Marcus enjoyed the free wine tasting.

I just share this because I feel so lucky to have had these two brief, but fun and relaxing little excursions with my family the past two weekends. It has fed our souls!

Could you eat on $21 per week?

2007-05-02T18:29:00.001-07:00

Tonight at church we had a presentation by Erin Luchenbill on Bread for the World's campaign to reform the Farm Bill. Here are some of the things we learned:

35 million people in the US are at risk of hunger, including 12 million children;
The Farm Bill, which was originally created during the depression to support 25% of Americans who were farmers, today assists less than 1% of the population;
2/3 of farmers do not receive any assistance through the Farm Bill; the ones who do are mostly corporate farms;

There is tremendous poverty in rural America because of unemployment and lack of economic opportunity. Many people who used to farm are being bought out by large corporate farms, and now there are millions of people in rural America who depend on food stamps to feed themselves and their families. The average food stamp benefit is $1 per person, per meal--$21 per week. How many of us could survive on $21 each week?

And in addition, because of farm subsidies which create a glut of crops such as cotton and corn, which are then sold cheaply on the world market, our current farm assistance policies are hurting farmers in developing countries.

Bread for the World is encouraging people to write a letter to their member of Congress urging them to pass broad reforms to the existing Farm Bill. I would strongly encourage you to learn more and take action by visiting the Bread for the World website. This is a justice issue for us as Christians and it is possible for us to eliminate hunger if we are willing to use our voice for change.

food stamp brochure
Originally uploaded by africankelli.

What's on God's iPod?

2007-04-21T18:51:00.001-07:00

iPod
Originally uploaded by Eric Hudon.

As someone who spends far more time writing and preaching sermons than listening to them, I find myself needing to find other ways and other voices which give me the opportunity to hear and understand the word, and believe again. One of the ways I do this is through music. Anyone who has been to church knows that there are times when a hymn or other piece of music can sometimes proclaim the Gospel more clearly, more honestly that a spoken sermon. But Friday night I heard one of the best sermons I've heard in a while--not in church, but at the Ram's Head Tavern in Annapolis. The Ram's Head is a wonderful, intimate concert venue, and Marcus and I went on a date--yes, a real date!--to hear a band called Over the Rhine. They're a great sort of country/jazz/folk/soul band--piano, guitar, bass, drums and a lead singer, Karin Bergquist, whose voice is nothing short of amazing.

Before one of their songs, the piano/guitarist, Linford Deitweiler, mentioned that he had grown up around a lot of church music--his father had been a travelling evangelist. And he asked the theoretical question: what do you think is on God's iPod anyway? If God is looking for suggestions, I recommend getting this one off iTunes.

It was the second song they sang, a song called "Long Lost Brother" that goes like this:

I thought that we'd be further along by now I can't remember how we stumbled to this place
I loved you like a long lost brother On a bad day maybe I thought why bother I've seldom seen so much anger in a face
I wanna do better; I wanna try harder; I wanna believe, down to the letter
Jesus and Mary, can you carry us Across this ocean into the arms of forgiveness
I don't mean to laugh out loud; I'm trying to come clean, trying to shed my doubt Maybe I should just keep my big mouth shut
More often than not when it comes to you You want whatever's not in front of you Deep down I know this includes me too
So tell me your troubles let your pain rain down I know my job I've been around; I invest in the mess, I'm a low cost dumping ground
Trouble is I'm so exhausted The plot, you see, I think I've lost it I need the grace to find what can't be found.
(Words and Music by Linford Detweiler)

To me, it's a song about longing, about the brokeness of human relationships, about our need for grace and forgiveness. In other words: the Gospel. This song preached to me through it's honesty, and through it's glimpse of hope. Not exactly what I expected to get on a Friday night at the Ram's Head Tavern. But I guess it just goes to show, the Spirit of God is truly everywhere--moving through life with creation's soundtrack on the holy iPod.

Wasted Time

2007-03-18T18:58:00.000-07:00

This was a week of futile efforts and wasted time.

This week I wasted an entire afternoon sitting in and around a State Senate hearing room waiting to testify in support of a bill to allow home-based day care providers to organize. I went to Annapolis, dressed in my clerical collar and all, and there we waited three hours, through panel after panel of people speaking in favor and against a different bill. I had to leave before they even got to the bill on which I had been asked to speak.

On Friday evening my family and I went to the airport to catch a flight to Phoenix for my grandfather's 80th birthday party. The shuttle bus driver picked us up in the parking lot and asked what airline we were on, and when we told him, he just laughed. There was a mix of snow and sleet falling and they were cancelling flights across the board. Ours was still scheduled to go, so we got our boarding passes, our airport dinner, and then went to the gate where we waited for an hour and a half with an exhausted toddler before they cancelled our flight (and sent our luggage on to Phoenix anyway). And with no available seats to Phoenix on any flight on Saturday, we weren't able to go at all, which was really disappointing.

I am not the kind of person who likes wasting time. It's so frustrating for me because I view time as so precious. And I usually pack my schedule so that I am never idle. So when I wasted all this time this week on these two fruitless endeavors, I was really cranky. What was the point? I thought. How could I have done things differently so that this wouldn't have happened. I was kicking myself for having wasted so much time and for having gotten nothing for it. Or so I thought.

Perhaps this week was a lesson in waiting, in patience, in the blessing of wasted time. Now I wouldn't go so far as to say that God arranged this week's events intentionally to slow me down. I think God would like me (and all of us, really) to relax and stop moving at a breakneck pace--it's the whole reason why God commanded us to observe a Sabbath--but I don't think God is going to make me do it. It's my choice--free will and all that. But I have another choice, too. I have the choice between getting mad and frustrated and irritated and stewing about wasted time, or of viewing these two experiences as a sign that I need to slow down, to appreciate the moments and days that are fleeting by. To appreciate people, relationships, life, the world around us.

Even the best laid plans sometimes go ary and there's not a thing we can do about it. Sometimes we are forced to wait, or turn around, to waste time. But I am trying to look more carefully at how I spend my time, and how I view time in general. It's possible that there's no such thing as "wasted time." During those hours waiting for that hearing, I got to talk with a lot of interesting people, and I got some reading done. During our wait at the airport, we got to meet the former Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O'Connor and I got to knit, and then I ended up with a free Saturday that I got to spend with the two people I love best in the world.

Maybe there's no such thing as wasted time, unless, of course, we mean the time we spend wishing we could be somewhere else, doing something else.

Wedding Blessing

2007-02-25T12:39:00.000-08:00

I recently had the privilege of giving a wedding blessing for a unique couple. Jeremy and Kristina were married more than two years ago in London, but since she has Ukranian citizenship, she only just last month received her visa to come and live in the US. They met through an internet dating site and began chatting on-line with each other, then they started talking on the phone every day. In 2004, Jeremy went to London to meet Kristina for the first time face to face, and he proposed to her. They were married in a civil ceremony because Kristina's priest wouldn't officiate the ceremony. So when she arrived here and Jeremy's parents wanted to throw a reception for them, they wanted a clergy person to come and bless their marriage, and I was invited to give the blessing by a member of Woodside who is a close friend of the family.

The story of Jeremy and Kristina's meeting, on-line courtship, trials with immigration and the church are all pretty interesting and pretty uncommon, at least in my experience. But there's one more thing about this couple that's different from other weddings I have been a part of. Kristina and Jeremy both have cerbal palsy. Although they have the same disAbility, it affects them each differently. Kristina uses a wheelchair to get around, but Jeremy, with the help of crutches or a walker, can walk pretty well. Jeremy is severely visually impaired, but Kristina can see.

Any good marriage is based on the willingness of each partner to support the other through difficulty, to complement each other's weaknesses, and enhance each other's gifts and strengths. And in this way Jeremy and Kristina are just like every other couple whose marriages I have joyfully blessed, and their well-suitedness for each other is an inspiration. Congratulations, Jeremy and Kristina. May God bless your life together!

Interfaith Dialogue

2007-02-13T06:37:00.001-08:00

Our Confirmation class is participating in an interfaith program called "Children of Abraham" with other middle school students who are Jewish and Muslim. From what I can see, thus far it's been a great experience for our confirmands--a chance for them to learn about other faiths while also growing into their own. In addition to the program for the youth, the organizers have also developed a parallel program for the parents and other adults, which I went to for the first time on Saturday evening. I learned a lot--a lot of facts that I didn't know, especially about Islam, but I learned the most, I think, just from the interactions.

There were five of us Christians (all Methodists), two liberal Jews and two Muslim women. That's pretty much how the students break down, too--about half the group is Methodist, and the other half is about equally divided between Muslims and Jews. I was thinking about this lopsidedness on the part of the Christians and I think it's because for us interfaith dialogue isn't all that risky. We are the majority religion in this country, numerically, but in other ways, too, and for us, we don't have much to lose.

But what I noticed, particularly with the Muslim women, they seemed to be taking a big risk. Since September 11th, Muslims in this country (and in most of the world, really) have been put under a microscope. Sometimes the motivation to look more closely has been positive, like in this program, because we want to learn more about this religion and join together with moderate Muslims to combat fundamentalism of all kinds.

But other sorts of scrutiny are less benign. Especially since September 11th, many people have begun to look at Muslims with suspicion, fear, even hatred. And sometimes in these interfaith dialogues moderate Muslims are expected to speak for the whole faith, to respond to, even take responsibility for fundamentalists and terrorism.

It seemed to me that there was some fear about this kind of scrutiny on the part of our Muslim participants. They seemed reticent to talk, to share, to fully participate. During one exercise when we were asked to imagine and draw images of interfaith peace, they didn't do it. I am not entirely sure why, but from the explanation that one of the women gave, it seemed to me that she had a hard time even imagining what interfaith peace might look like. And that made me feel very sad.

Overall, I think that interfaith dialogues are a positive thing. When they are done right, they are hard work, but that's good. We need to work hard at this--the future of our world depends on it.

One of the exercises that the youth did together last Saturday was plant flower seeds. They wrote prayers for peace on the sides of the flower pots and then traded them with each other. They are supposed to tend to these seeds, to nurture them so they will grow. I pray that these will not be the only seed that are planted in them, and that out of this experience will grow peace.

Gift of Peace
Originally uploaded by YardSale.

In case you had lost faith in humanity

2007-02-10T11:48:00.000-08:00

Sure, there are lots of reasons to be cynical about your fellow (hu)man. Crime, war, random acts of violence...you name it. We get jaded and begin to think that it's a rare day when people do things that are nice, or selfless, or honest. Well, here's a little thing that helped restore my faith in humanity, just a little bit yesterday.

I was meeting a friend/church member at the Savory in Takoma Park for coffee yesterday morning and I parked at the Takoma Metro Station. I was in a rush (running late as usual) and I jumped out of my car, dashed over to the meter and dropped in my quarter. But when I did it made a strange sound, and I looked down to see that the part that catches and contains the coins (what in the heck do you call that thing? the bank?), well, it was broken. The front of the meter had broken off (or been broken off--who knows) and someone had just set it inside the meter. But the best part was that there was probably ten dollars in quarters in there, and no one had taken them!

When I saw that it was broken, I thought for a split second hey, I could take my quarter back! Just think about all the money I have put into broken meters and lost...It was like those old cartoons with the angel sitting on one shoulder and the devil sitting on the other, offering competing advice. But I was so impressed that so many other people had gone ahead and put their quarters into this broken meter, and that no one had taken this money. I mean it was just sitting there, begging to be carted off to washers, dryers and vending machines. So, I just paid my quarter, and went off to my coffee date. It's a little thing, I know, but the whole experience made me feel a little better about the human community afterall.

U2charist

2007-01-31T11:35:00.000-08:00

This is Music - U2 Bono
Originally uploaded by Bemused Capybara.

I recently heard about a worship idea that churches around the world are doing--it's called the U2charist. It started at a church in Maine, when they put together a eucharist service with the music of the rock band U2 and took up a collection for the ONE campaign, a crusade against global poverty and AIDS. U2, and especially their lead singer, Bono, has become known lately for their advocacy on behalf of the poorest of the poor. Last year Bono spoke (or I would say, preached) at the White House prayer breakfast on the need for greater awareness and action on behalf of the world's most impoverished people. But anyone who has listened to their music for a while knows that this passion for justice is nothing new. For years they have written powerful songs about the hope for peace in Northern Ireland ("Sunday Bloody Sunday") about Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. ("Pride (In the Name of Love)") and their passion comes from their grounding in the Christian faith. So listening to U2 in church, while perhaps a bit unconventional, is not in the least bit heretical.

But what does U2, and the fight against global poverty, have to do with the eucharist? There have been some side conversations about communion at church lately--about the way that people feel we ought to do it (with individual servings of bread and juice? or by intinction?), about who should serve it (anyone? or only the pastor and people who are specifically "trained" for it?) and about what it means (the questions here are less clear, however...). When we celebrate holy communion, it is a reenactment of the last supper that Jesus had with his closest friends. Through the symbols of bread and wine, Jesus tried to explain what his death and resurrection were going to mean--that through his sacrifice all the world would be offered redemption for their sins and new life. When we participate in the eucharist we are made one with Christ and one with each other. It is not how we take communion that's significant, but rather what happens when we do. We are healed from our brokeness, reconciled with one another, and called to new life in Christ. Transformation is inherent in the sacrament of communion. So of course a call to justice, a call for liberation and healing for the world's poor, and music that awakens our conscience and our soul could, no, should be part of a eucharist service. Why not?

So, coming soon to Woodside...the U2charist?

The Secret of the Gifts

2006-12-28T14:31:00.000-08:00

The Secret of the Gifts: A Story by Paul Flucke

The story has been told for centuries now. The story of Gaspar, Melchior and Balthasar, and the gifts they brought to the newborn king. And of how they saw the star and followed it for weeks across mountain and valley and desert. In stately procession on their swaying beasts, the came and placed their treasures at the feet of the infant Savior.

And what were their gifts? Ah, you say, everyone knows that. They brought gold, frankincense and myrrh. So, since the earliest of days, the story has been told.

But there you are wrong. The story in incomplete. You see the story was told by those who had seen the wise men on their journey. And by those who stood in wonderment as the wise men dismounted from their weary camels and strode to the door of the rude stable. They watched as the wise men held their jeweled caskets high before them. That much the world saw. So the story has been told.

But that is not the whole story. And if you listen carefully and very quietly, you shall hear the rest of it. You shall hear what happened when the wise men entered the stable. And you shall learn the secret of the gifts.

Gaspar

The first of the three visitors to approach the stable was Gaspar. His cloak was of the finest velvet, trimmed with flawless fur. At his waist and throat were clusters of gems, for Gaspar was a wealthy man.

Those who watched saw only that he paused at the stable door. "He prays," they whispered to one another as they saw Gaspar's lips move. But they were mistaken. They could not see that it was the angel Gabriel, guarding the holy place, before whom Gaspar stopped.

"And who are you?" Gabriel asked in a voice that was firm but not unkind.

"I am Gaspar, and I come to worship the king," he replied.

"All who enter here must bring a gift," said Gabriel, "have you a gift?"

"Indeed I have," said Gaspar, and he held aloft a finely wrought box. It was small, yet so heavy that his arms could hardly raise it. "I have brought bars of the finest gold."

"Your gift," said Gabriel somberly, "must be the essence of yourself. It must be something precious to your soul."

"Such have I brought," answered Gaspar confidently, the hint of a smile upon his lips.

"So shall it be," said Gabriel. And he too smiled as the held the door for Gaspar to enter.

And there before the rough board wall of the stable, lay the king he had traveled so far to see. The light of the lamp fell across the tiny face and glinted back from the dark, bright eyes. In the shadows sat the parents, motionless and silent. And beyond them, Gaspar sensed the presence of sheep and oxen who stood their reverent watch.

Gaspar advanced a step and then another. He was just about to lay his gold before the child when he stopped and stood erect. There in his outstretched hand lay not gold, but a hammer. Its scarred and blackened head was larger than a man's fist. And its handle was of sinewy wood as long as a man's forearm.

But, but--" Gaspar stammered as he stared, dumbfounded, at the heavy tool. And then softly, from behind him, he heard the voice of Gabriel.

"So shall it be, and so it is," said the angel, "You have brought the essence of yourself."

Gaspar turned indignantly. "A hammer? What foul magic is this?"

"None but the magic of truth," replied Gabriel. "What you hold in your hands is the hammer of your greed. You have used it to pound wealth from those who labor so that you may live in luxury. You have used it to build a mansion for yourself while others dwell in hovels. You have raised it against friends and made them into enemies--and against enemies to destroy them."

And suddenly Gaspar knew the truth. Bowed with shame, he turned toward the door to leave. But Gabriel blocked his way. "No, no," he said, "you have not offered your gift."

"Give this?" Gaspar blurted in horror, looking at the hammer. "I cannot give this to a king!"

"But you must," Gabriel replied. "That is why you came. And you cannot take it back with you. It is too heavy. You have carried it for many years, and even now your arms ache with its weight. You must leave it here or it will destroy you."

And once again Gaspar knew the angel spoke the truth. But still he protested, "The hammer is too heavy," he said, "Why, the child cannot lift it."

"He is the only one who can," replied the angel.

"But it is dangerous. He might bruise his hands or feet."

"That worry," said Gabriel, "You must leave to heaven. The hammer shall find its place."

Slowly Gaspar turned to where the Christ child lay. And slowly he placed the ugly hammer at the baby's feet. Then he rose and turned to the door, pausing only for an instant to look back at the tiny Savior before he rushed outside.

The waiting world saw only the smile that wreathed Gaspar's face as he emerged from the stable. His hands were raised, as though the wings of angels graced his fingers. That much the world saw, and so the story is told.

Melchior

Net to step to the door of the stable was Melchior, the learned Melchior. He was not so resplendent as Gaspar for he wore the darker robes of a scholar. But the length of his beard and the furrows of his brow bespoke of once who had lived long with the wisdom of the ages. A hush fell over the onlookers as he too paused before the door. But only Melchior could see the angel who stood guard. Only Melchior could hear him speak.

"What have you brought?" asked Gabriel.

And Melchior replied, "I bring frankincense, the fragrance of hidden lands and bygone days."

"Your gift," cautioned Gabriel as he had done before, "Must be something that is precious to your soul."

"Of course it is," restored Melchior.

"Then enter, and we shall see." And Gabriel opened the door.

Melchior stood breathless before the scene within. In all his many years of searching for elusive Truth, he had never sensed such a presence as this. He knelt reverently. And from beneath his robe he withdrew the silver flask of precious ointment.

But then he drew back and stared. The vessel in his hand was not silver at all. It was common clay, rough and stained as might be found in the humblest cupboard. Aghast, he pulled the stopper from its mouth and sniffed the contents. Then he leapt to his feet only to face the angel at the door.

"I have been tricked," he said, spitting the words with fury, "this is not the frankincense I brought!"

"What is it, then?" asked Gabriel.

"It is vinegar!" Melchior snarled as though it were a curse.

"So shall it be, and so it is," said Gabriel, "you have brought what you are made of."

"You are an angel of fools," Melchior snorted.

But Gabriel went on. "You bring the bitterness of your heart, the soured wine of a life turned grim with jealousy and hate. You have carried within you the memory of old hurts. You have hoarded your resentments and breathed on sparks of anger until they have become as embers smoldering within you. You have sought for knowledge. But have filled your life with poison."

As he heard these words, Melchior's shoulders dropped. He turned his face away from Gabriel and fumbled with his robe, as though to hide the earthen jar. Silently he sidled toward the door.

Gabriel smiled gently and placed his hand on Melchior's arm. "Wait," he said, "You must leave your gift."

Melchior sighed with a pain that came from deep within him. "How I wish I could. How long have I yearned to empty my soul of its bitterness. You have spoken the truth, my friend. But I cannot leave it here. Not at the feet of love and innocence."

"But you can," said Gabriel, "and you must, if you would be clean. This is the only place you can leave it."

"But this is vile and bitter stuff," Melchior protested. "What if the child should touch it to his lips?"

"You must leave that worry to heaven," Gabriel replied. "There is a use even for vinegar."

So Melchior placed his gift before the Savior. And they say that when he came out of his stable, his eyes shone with the clearest light of heaven's truth. His skin was as smooth as a youth's as he lifted his face to gaze on horizons he had never seen before. And in that, at least, the story is correct.

Balthasar

There was yet one more visitor to make his offering. He strode forward now, his back as straight as a tree, shoulders firm as an oaken beam. He walked as one born to command. This was Balthasar, leader of many legions, scourge of walled cities. Before him, as he grasped it by its handle of polished ebony, he carried a brass-bound box.

A murmur ran though those who watched as they saw him hesitate before the door. "Look," they whispered, "even the great Balthasar does obeisance before the king who waits within."

But we know that it was Gabriel who caused the warrior to pause. And we know too the question that he put.

"Have you a gift?"

"Of course," answered Balthasar. "I bring a gift of myrrh, the most precious booty of my boldest conquest. Many have fought and died for centuries for such as this. It is the essence of the rarest herb."

"But is it the essence of yourself?" asked Gabriel.

"It is," replied the general.

"Then come," said the angel, "and we shall see."

Even the fearless Balthasar was not prepared for the wave of awe that struck him as he entered the holy place of the Christ child. He felt a weakness in his knees such as he had never known before. Closing his eyes, he knelt and shuffled forward through the straw in reverence. Then bowing until his face was near the ground, he slowly released his grip upon the handle of the box and raised his head and opened his eyes.

What lay before him at the baby's feet was his own spear. Its smooth round staff still glistened where the sweat of his palms had moistened it. And the razor edges of its steely tip caught the flickering light of the lamp.

"It cannot be!" Balthasar whispered hoarsely. "Some enemy has cast a spell."

"That is more true than you know," said Gabriel softly from behind him. "A thousand enemies have cast their spell on you and turned your soul into a spear."

"You speak in riddles," cried Balthasar, turning to face the angel. "I'll teach you not to jest at a time like this." And he raised his fist as if to strike.

Gabriel did not flinch as he continued. "Living only to conquer, you have been conquered. Each battle you win leads you only to another with a foe yet more formidable."

"Do you think I like to kill?" demanded Balthasar. "You angels know nothing of this world. I am the defender of my people. Were it not for my spear leading them in battle, we should have been destroyed long ago. Why, even now, the enemy is massing to invade us. As soon as I leave this holy place, I must raise more armies. I must buy more spears to arm them and--"

"More," Gabriel interrupted quietly, "than what?"

"Why, more than we have now. More than our enemies have."

"And what will they do then?" asked the angel softly. "Will your enemies too need more?"

Balthasar heard the angel's words and they seemed to echo in the deepest places of his soul as though vaguely familiar. Was the question one that he had sometime asked himself? Was it that faintest flicker of doubt, quickly stifled by one who did not dare to doubt?

For a moment, Balthasar hesitated. Then taking control of himself, he reached down and grasped his spear--and turned toward the door.

"I cannot leave this here," he said. "My people need it. We cannot afford to give it up."

"Are you sure," asked Gabriel, "that you can afford to keep it?"

"But our enemies will destroy us if we drop our spears," Balthasar replied impatiently. "We cannot take that risk."

"Yes, it is a risk," Gabriel replied slowly. "But your way is a certainty--a certainty of spears."

Once again, Balthasar hesitated. And once again, the sweat of his palm moistened the smooth shaft of the spear. But now the beads stood out on his forehead as well, as the force of Gabriel's words did battle with centuries of warrior instinct.

A long moment passed. Finally Balthasar loosed his grip, and the spear dropped toward the floor. But as he looked at the child at his feet, he whispered anxiously to Gabriel, "But here? Is it safe to leave it here?"

The angel released a long-held breath as he whispered back, "This is the only safe place to leave it."

"But he is a child, and the spear is sharp. It could pierce his flesh."

"That fear you must leave to heaven," Gabriel replied.

And they say that Balthasar went calmly from the stable, his arms hanging gently at his sides. They say that he walked first to Gaspar and Melchior, where they waited and embraced them as brothers. Then turning to the others who watched, he went first to one and then to the next, enfolding each in his outstretched arms as one greeting beloved friends who he has not seen for a very long time.

That, at least, is how the story has always been told. And it is true, as far as it goes. But you have listened well, and now you know the whole of it.

Now you too may kneel before the Christ child to leave at his feet those unseen, secret things that may be left nowhere else but there. And having visited the holy place, you too, like those three visitors of old, may go on your way made new.

But what of their gifts, you ask? What of the hammer and the vinegar and the spear? Well, there is another story about them and how they were seen once more, years later, in fact, on a lonely hill outside of Jerusalem. But do not worry. That is a burden heaven took upon itself, as only heaven can. And will, even to this very day.

(Reprinted from The Secret of the Gifts, Intervarsity Press, 1992)

Message Received

2006-11-17T08:54:00.000-08:00

prayer
Originally uploaded by kimxtom.

Lately I have been getting the message from God that I need a more disciplined spiritual life. That has been a hard thing for me to admit to myself since I am a professional praying person. However, although I spend a good bit of time praying with and for other people, lately I haven't spent a lot of time with God on my own.

The first sign came to me when I was teaching an adult Sunday school class on prayer. The ifrst class was about prayer and worship, and I had lots of ideas for that. But the second class was about personal prayer and devotion and as I was getting ready for the class, I realized I had a lot less to say here. I tried to rationalize it: it's a personal thing, everyone prays differently. But the thought came to me then: maybe you don't feel comfortable talking about this because you don't do it enough yourself.

Then I had a "coaching call" with my District Superintendent. I mentioned that my personal prayer life and self-care were kind of lacking at the moment, and he was very helpful and supportive, telling me, whatever you are able to do is good--it's better than nothing. I felt better, less guilty, but after a while that nagging feeling came back. There is something missing in my spiritual life...

Then last week I went to the last meeting of the Young Clergy Leadership group that I have been a part of the last two years. The focus of the gathering was on sustaining ourselves and not getting burned out. Several of the speakers talked about the need to maintain a prayer discipline. One pastor put it this way: If we are called to love God with heart, soul, mind and strength, you need to make time every week to nourish all of these parts of yourself. Exercise, fun, time with family, time for study, rest...and pray.

OK. I get it.

So this week I have been trying to make more time for God. I try to get up before everyone in my house so I can have some time alone in prayer. Or the first thing I do when I get to church in the morning is head for the chapel or the sanctuary to read and pray. And you know what? It's working. I feel more at peace, more centered, grounded, connected to God.

We talked about this at Mondays @ Mayorga this week, too. And there was lots of good sharing among the group about ways that they make time for God--going for a jog and making it a time of prayer, making a daily list of 5 things you are grateful for, listening to Christian music or radio in the car or at work, walk a labyrinth...these are all great ways to find time for God in the midst of our busy and hectic lives.

So, however you can do it, I truly encourage you to take some time alone for you and God this week. Talk, listen, journal, read, sing, walk. Whatever works for you. I know from personal experience, it can be hard to make the time, but I am also learning how much it matters, too.

Election Day

2006-11-07T07:30:00.000-08:00

vote
Originally uploaded by aughra.

I beleive that voting is an important civic duty.

And today is the first election in 14 years in which I will not cast a ballot.

I know. I should have. I just didn't get my act together in time to get registered in Maryland. But if I'm honest, my not getting registered to vote probably has as much to do with a lack of motivation, fed by my growing cynicism about politics, as it does with my disorganization.

These words of Daniel Berrigan, the (in) famous peace activist and Jesuit priest who spent time in prison for his civil disobedience against government policies on racism, nuclear arms, and most famously Vietnam, resonate with my own feelings today:

I can only tell you what I believe;
I believe: I cannot be saved by foreign policies.
I cannot be saved by the sexual revolution.
I cannot be saved by the gross national product.
I cannot be saved by nuclear deterrents.
I cannot be saved by aldermen, priests, artists, plumbers, city planners, social engineers,
nor by the Vatican, nor by the World Buddhist Association,
nor by Hitler, nor by Joan of Arc, nor by angels and archangels, nor by powers and dominions,
I can be saved only by Jesus Christ.

On his blog "The Journey with Jesus: Notes to Myself," Dan Clendenin adds:

I cannot be saved by George Bush or Jesse Jackson, by Hillary Clinton or Condi Rice, nor by their successors or opponents. I cannot be saved by Green Peace or the ACLU, by Focus on the Family or by Promise Keepers.

I am glad that there are many others who will exercise their democratic privilege today and vote. By all means, you should go vote today. But as you do, I pray that we will keep in mind the words of the Psalmist: "Blessed is the one whose help is in the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord his God" (146:5).

The Power of a Conversation

2006-10-30T09:27:00.000-08:00

Few things are more powerful than a conversation. When we have the opportunity to sit down with someone, face to face, to perhaps learn for the first time their name, where they are from, and what's important to them--this I believe is the essential cornerstone of community.

Over the past month I have been trying to have as many one-on-one meetings with people at Woodside as I can. I have been learning more about individuals through their personal stories, but I have also learned more about the history and culture of the church, and it's been wonderful.

So as part of our stewardship campaign, What Gift Can We Bring? (which we launched yesterday and continues through November 19th), we decided (OK, I decided) we should try having one-on-ones in worship. Each week, as a response to the sermon, we will be inviting people to get up out of their pews, find someone who they don't already know, and hopefully someone who appears different to you, and sit down with them for five minutes to discuss a particular question. I wasn't sure how people would respond to this invitation, but yesterday they seemed to love it. The questions we asked people to share about were: For what are you thankful to God? And, What gift do you bring to God that you share in this community? People enjoyed talking with each other so much, that when we started the music for the hymn, it took until the second verse for people to get finish their conversations and get back to their seats.

This church, like most I'm sure, has had a long history of giving to the building, the programs and the vision of the pastor. And that's fine--those are all good things to give to. But I know that the thing that keeps people coming back to a church week in and week out, year in and year out, is our relationship with God and with one another. So, I hope that through these one-on-ones you will get to know some of the wonderful stories that I have had the privilege to hear. And I also hope that as we deepen our relationships with God and with each other, our sense of community will be strengthened. What a gift that would be.

(Last) Monday @ Mayorga, October Edition

2006-10-12T20:00:00.000-07:00

Mmm... Coffee
Originally uploaded by SFAntti.

We had another great evening at Mayorga Coffee Factory last Monday. We started with these questions, and then discussed the article below. If you weren't there, you missed a good conversation, but feel free to post your comments and keep it going!

What does it mean--to you--to be a Christian?
Are there certain beliefs, actions, or ways of being that you feel are required of us as Christians?
How do you understand these words of Jesus from the New Testament: "The work of God is this: to believe in the one he has sent." John 6:29
Do you feel that it’s easy or hard to be a Christian? Why?

The Amish School Shootings: The power of faith, the strength of community
By Duane Shank (Senior Policy Advisor at Sojourners/Call to Renewal)

Part of my job is to read a variety of news sources each morning, and summarize the top stories in our Daily Digest. I’ll confess that there are times when the violence in our world – from Darfur to Iraq, Colombia to the Middle East – threatens me with numbness. Then, there comes a story that deeply affects me.
On Monday morning, the breaking news bulletins began to flash into my inbox of a shooting at an Amish schoolhouse near Paradise, PA, in the heart of Lancaster County. For me, that’s home – I grew up in the county, and for 25 years my parents lived ten miles from that school. My wife’s grandmother was Amish, and we both still have relatives in the area. As more details came in, the shock and grief grew. A heavily armed gunman, Charles Roberts, walked into a one-room country schoolhouse, ordered all the boys to leave, then tied up ten little girls and methodically shot them in the head before killing himself. News stories emerged of state troopers with their uniforms soaked in blood as they worked with medics trying to save lives. Five girls died, and five are still in hospitals in serious to critical condition.
Suddenly, the media discovered the Amish. A quiet, peaceful offshoot of the 16th century Anabaptist movement who have lived in Lancaster county since the early 1700s, living and farming for the last three centuries without the aid of modern technology. I know the countryside where this tragedy occurred. It’s rolling farmland, with not a power line in sight and farmers with teams of horses working the fields. If you ignore the car you’re driving on the back roads, it’s easy to imagine you’re in the 19th century.
I’ve been surprised at the news coverage. The reporters covering the story have understood and written about the Amish in a generally knowledgeable and respectful way. As I’ve read the news, and reflected on the events, two things struck me as having entered into the news cycle that we don’t often see. One is the power of faith and forgiveness, the other the strength of community. In their quiet way, the Amish families and neighbors of these girls showed a witness to the world that it doesn’t see very often.
The power of faith and forgiveness. A pastor who has been with the Roberts family – the gunman leaves behind a wife and three children – told a Lancaster newspaper of being in the family’s home when there was a knock on the door. It was an Amish neighbor coming on behalf of the community. He put his arms around Roberts’ father, and said “We will forgive you.” The pastor concluded: “God met us in that kitchen.”
Also reported was a statement the family of one of the girls gave to the press: “We don’t know or understand why this happened but we do believe God allowed this to happen. The rest of us, our lives will go on. We will try to work together to support and help the families directly involved, knowing that the innocent children likely need help in dealing with this tragedy of their friends, neighbors, and schoolmates.’’ The girl’s great-uncle added, “There is sadness for everybody involved, including the man responsible for this tragedy.’’
One of this morning’s headlines reads: “Amish families hurt, but find way to forgive.” It is a spirit that I don’t often see in the news. A spirit in complete keeping with Jesus: "You have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you…” (Matthew 5:43-44) And a spirit that is now being sustained by Jesus: "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. … Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.” (Matthew 5:4, 7)
The strength of community. The Amish community is known for its self-reliance. They do not have property insurance, so a community-wide barn-raising is held to replace one downed by fire. They do not hold health or life insurance, relying rather on the community. The news reports this week have told of neighbors, friends and relatives coming to the homes of the families, bringing food and comfort. An AP story quoted a family counselor who was called to talk with the students who had run away: “There is a coming together. That’s how they deal with everything. They come together.” In a time of great grief, there is the strength of family and community.
It is a community that lives by the words of Paul to his churches: “Bear one another's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.” (Galatians 6:2) “If one member suffers, all suffer together with it…” (1 Corinthians 12:26) This week, the Amish community is demonstrating to the world the truth of those verses.
What can we do in response to this tragedy?
Pray. For the families and community of the girls who were killed, for the family and friends of gunman, for healing to the girls who were critically wounded, for our society that it learn the ways of peace rather than violence.
Donate. Members of the Amish community have established funds both for the families of those killed and wounded, and for the family of Roberts, who leaves a wife and three young children. Mennonite Central Committee and Mennonite Disaster Service are also coordinating support for those affected.

Recommended Reading:
Simply Christian by N.T. Wright
Amazing Grace by Kathleen Norris

Hard Words for Hard Hearts

2006-10-09T20:16:00.000-07:00

broken heart sign
Originally uploaded by sassypants.

I have gotten many comments about this past Sunday's sermon, so I thought I would post it here for others to read. May these thoughts give you comfort, and something to ponder.

Scripture Readings: Genesis 2:18-24, Hebrews 1:1-4, 2:5-12, and Mark 10:2-16

In this sanctuary yesterday I helped celebrate a wedding. A lovely couple stood here, beaming at each other as they exchanged vows and rings. Their families and friends were there and rejoiced with them. There was much talk of love, of commitment, of God. It was a happy, happy day. On this wedding day, all talk about was the hopeful and promising future that this couple will have; all who gathered in this place shared in their big dreams of home and family and everlasting. The wedding was beautiful and joyful, just as they had planned, and that is how is should be.
Our scripture reading from Genesis 2 also speaks of how things should be, about God’s big hopes and dreams for creation. Back in the beginning, the story says, God created man and woman as fitting partners for each other. God made them out of one flesh so that when they marry they will no longer be two, but joined together as one flesh. It was the way that God intended it to be.
But sometimes the marriage is different than the wedding. Sometimes things don’t turn out as we planned, dreams and hearts get broken. Sometimes the heart that gets broken is the heart of God.
I would so much rather celebrate a wedding than preach a sermon on divorce. And you probably feel the same way—that you would rather be at a wedding than here to hear a sermon on divorce. But here we are. And here is Jesus being tested by the Pharisees on the laws concerning divorce, and we need to try and understand what he says to them and what it means for us. So here goes…
Before we can understand what Jesus is trying to say, or even really grasp the question he was being asked, I think we need to look closely at the historical context of this Gospel lesson. The context is very important both to understand the question Jesus was asked and the responses he gave.
First, marriage: Marriage in the first century was much different from our Western 21st century concept of marriage. In Jesus’ time and culture, marriage was an agreement, a contract, between two families. The couple that was married, especially the woman, had very little to say about it and only in the rarest of cases did love have anything to do with a marriage. It was common at that time for men to have multiple wives, because women were viewed essentially as property. In this context only women were guilty of committing adultery, and for the man it was more like buying a used car than our understanding of adultery as marital infidelity. Therefore, because marriage was primarily an economic and social arrangement to dissolve a marriage required for contracts to be amended, involvement from the families, if not the community; and it there needed to be a justifiable reason for the divorce.
Second, divorce: In general, the Jewish Law in the Torah had very little to say about divorce, except for those few verses in Deuteronomy 24:1-4 which says: If a man marries a woman who becomes displeasing to him because he finds something indecent about her, and he writes her a certificate of divorce, gives it to her and sends her from his house, 2 and if after she leaves his house she becomes the wife of another man, 3 and her second husband dislikes her and writes her a certificate of divorce, gives it to her and sends her from his house, or if he dies, 4 then her first husband, who divorced her, is not allowed to marry her again after she has been defiled. That would be detestable in the eyes of the Lord. Do not bring sin upon the land the Lord your God is giving you as an inheritance.
Naturally, there were several religious scholars who had differing interpretations of this text:
The school of Rabbi Shammai said: "A man should not divorce his wife, except where he has found in her a case for indecency, as it is said: --'...because he has found in her an indecent thing' (Deut 24:1).
The school of Rabbi Hillel had a much broader interpretation: "A man may divorce his wife, even if she has burned his supper, as it is said: --'...because he has found in her an indecent thing' (Deut 24:1).
But the school of Rabbi Aqiba had the broadest interpretation of all: "A man may divorce his wife, even if he has found another more becoming than she, as it is said: --"because she does not find favor in your eyes" (Deut 24:1).
Each of these teachers quoted the same verse from Deuteronomy, the same law, which allowed for divorce in some cases, but depending on the interpretation, the application of the law was very different. But they all agreed on one thing: the right to divorce belongs to the man only.

Under Greco-Roman law, women also had the right to initiate divorce, which is the law that Jesus refers to in the second part of this passage when he is speaking to his disciples, but the Pharisees are only concerned about the Mosaic law. In traditional Jewish culture, an unmarried woman who was no longer under the protection of her father, was utterly without status and completely vulnerable. So regardless of who initiated the divorce, a divorced woman would find herself with very few options for survival apart from prostitution.

And there is one other thing going on in the background that we need to understand in order to fully grasp the meaning of this particular scripture lesson. Herod Antipas, the Romanized Jewish ruler of Galilee and Peraea, (the region on the East bank of the Jordan River) had recently divorced his wife in order to marry Herodias, the ex-wife of his half-brother. When John the Baptist criticized Herod for this, his new wife had him beheaded. So if Jesus also goes against the Mosiac law, he will draw the fury of the religious establishment. And if he goes against the Greco-Roman law, he runs the risk of suffering the same fate as John the Baptist.

Knowing all this contextual information helps us frame the question posed of Jesus. It helps us understand the complexity of the issue he was being asked to address, and that Jesus was being set up once again by the Pharisees. It helps us see that in Jesus response he critiques a system that treated women as property and left them vulnerable when they had to choose between an abusive marriage or life as a divorced, and therefore outcast, woman. Jesus views men and women as equals, not just in divorce, but primarily as equals in marriage—a radical concept. It helps us understand that the first century concepts of marriage and divorce were very different from our own.

But in order to understand what this passage means for us today, we must look to Jesus’ response in the context of the wider Gospel message about sin and redemption.

Jesus responds to the question “is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?” by going all the way back to the beginning, back to the creation where God established the sacredness and holiness of human relationship. In doing this, Jesus takes the question completely out of the legal realm. This is not about laws at all—whether they are Biblical laws or human laws. It’s about a created order; about a relationship between two people, and their relationship with God. It’s about human sin and brokenness that separates us from each other and from God. It’s about our hard hearts, and how those hard hearts crack and break wide open. And it’s about how God’s grace can help us find healing and wholeness in the midst of our brokenness.

Anyone who has experienced divorce, either personally or as an innocent by-stander, knows how painful it is. I know about the pain and brokenness of divorce because it’s an epidemic in my family: my great-grandparents were divorced, my grandparents are divorced, and my parents are divorced, and although my mom is happily remarried for more than 20 years, but my dad is on his fourth marriage. Two of my dear friends are currently going through divorces. Because I know how complicated, how personal and how painful divorce is, you will never hear me condemn or judge anyone who had experienced a divorce. I was talking with someone in our congregation who went through a divorce years ago and she told me that the hardest part about the whole experience was that she felt that she needed to grieve, but no one would talk with her about it. People either avoided the subject or expected her to get over it. But as I once heard a pastoral counselor say, “Divorce is a death—it is the death of the ‘happy-ever-after’ dream.” Even when there are legitimate, rational reasons for a divorce, even when it’s the best possible resolution to a tragic, or abusive, or loveless marriage, it still hurts like hell.
Even though it might hurt to hear him say it, we need to hear Jesus say, “that’s not the way that God wanted things to be. That’s not God’s desire or hope or plan for us” because we need to remember that because God loves us, God offers us hope and healing in the midst of our pain and brokenness.
We know that in order to find that hope and healing, we have to begin with our own sin. We begin by owning up to our mistakes. We are hard-hearted people, each and every one of us. This does not just apply to marriage and divorce. We know there are many ways in which our sin divorces us from faithful relationship with God and healthy, holy relationships with other people. This kind of divorce is no more or less painful to the heart of God than a legal divorce within a marriage. But when we pray for forgiveness, God’s grace enters into our broken places bringing healing and transformation. That’s at the heart of why we gather together for worship every week—for the opportunity to offer up our brokenness to God, and for God to fill us with grace and mercy.
The spiritual writer Anne Lamott, who is no stranger to pain, was once asked in an interview what she most wanted to convey to her son Sam about God. "I want to convey that we get to be human," Lamott answered. "We get to make awful mistakes and fall short of who we hope we're going to turn out to be. That we don't have to be what anybody else tries to get us to be, so they could feel better about who they were. We get to screw up right and left. We get to keep finding our way back home to goodness and kindness and compassion. . . I want him to know that no matter what happens, he's never going to have to walk alone. . . That's what I'm trying to convey to Sam."
That is the heart of the Gospel message, too. God doesn’t want us to be broken, hard-hearted people, but we are, and God still loves us. God doesn’t want us to hurt one another or break promises or have to go through struggles and pain, but we do, and God still loves us.
You know, all week I have been wrestling with the passage, with it’s meaning and how we are supposed to understand it. I finally thought that I might have an idea that would preach, but there was one thing I just didn’t get. I couldn’t understand why, in the very next moment after this hard teaching on divorce, Jesus is scooping up, hugging and blessing children. I had decided that although it was part of the lectionary selection, I wasn’t going to try and talk about it this morning; I wasn’t even going to read it.
But last night it finally dawned on me -- Jesus’ love and acceptance of these children is actually the key to this passage. We are those hard-hearted people Jesus talks about; but we are also those children. Even when we are broken and flawed and screwed up and hopeless, God doesn’t want us sent away. God wants us right here. Jesus wants to take us in his arms, put his hands on us and bless us. So what else can we say, but thanks be to God. Amen.

Things I Didn't Learn in Seminary

2006-10-03T18:41:00.000-07:00

Last week a woman came into the church looking for help and she asked to see the pastor. At first I thought she might need money or a referral to a service agency. That's why most people come in off Georgia Avenue, and that's fine, because that's something we do pretty well around here--make referrals, talk, pray, occasionally give out a little money for food or transportation. That's something I know how to do. But this woman needed a different kind of help. She asked me if I could perform an exorcism. She told me that she was possessed by a demon, and, as if on command her body quivered, she twiched and seemed to involuntarily spit out the name "Jesus."

Now exorcisms are not something I learned to do in seminary. And I do not disbelieve in demons, but they are not a part of my daily spiritual reality (I guess I should be thankful about that). I asked her if she had been to a doctor, but she insisted that it was not a physical problem--it was a spiritual problem. So I told her that I had never performed an exorcism before, but that I would certainly be willing to pray with her. We went into the chapel and knelt before the altar; I put my arm around her and I prayed fervantly. As I prayed, this woman convulsed and shook and cried.

When I finished praying we talked for a bit. She told me about all the things in her life that she thought might have caused her demon possession. She spoke about reconciling with her mother, and getting rid of furniture that she had bought with money given to her by a friend who had been dealing drugs, about learning to read the Bible again and spending time in prayer. And while I may not have a strong belief in demons, but I do have very strong faith in repentence, in the power of prayer and forgiveness, and in the goodness of God to overcome evil. I encouraged her to keep doing that spiritual work and to try and have faith that she would be healed.

As I watched her leave, I wondered if my prayer had helped her at all. Then I went back to my office to work on my sermon (something I actually did learn to do in seminary). I sat down and read the the Gospel lesson for the week, which was from Mark 9:38-50. It begins this way: "Teacher," said John, "we saw a man driving out demons in your name and we told him to stop, because he was not one of us." "Do not stop him," Jesus said. "No one who does a miracle in my name can in the next moment say anything bad about me, for whoever is not against us is for us."

Pretty strange coincidence, huh? I guess I still have a lot to learn...

Hard Sell

2006-09-25T09:29:00.000-07:00

Several Woodside leaders and I went to a great workshop at Wesley Seminary on Saturday on Fruitful Congregations. The keynote speaker, Rev. Tom Berlin, is the pastor at Floris UMC in Herndon, VA and a very inspirational speaker. One of the things he said was that during his new member classes he tries to talk people out of becoming members. What he means is that, while the bar for coming to and participating in the church and its ministries is pretty low, to become a member of a church is, and should be, a significant commitment. And we should be up front about that when people are considering becoming members.

So when I had my first new members' class at Woodside yesterday, those words were ringing in my heart. We began the afternoon with everyone introducing themselves, sharing a bit about our life stories as well as our faith stories. Many people shared something about what they are looking for in a church: spirited worship, open hearts and minds and respect for diversity, a commitment to children. One man said what drew him to and excited him about Woodside was that it reminded him of the church he grew up in because when he was there the church was in a growth stage and all the families worked together to make the church great. He said that he thought Woodside, too, seemed to be in a growth period and he was excited to be a part of that.

I took them on a tour of the building and while we walked, I talked about some of the ministries that go on at Woodside. There's a lot to be excited and enthusiastic about right now, and it made me happy to share that with these folks and invite them into it, too. As we walked, many people remarked at how big the building was, and it was as clear to them, as it is to me, that our facility represents our greatest opportunity, but is also our greatest financial burden.

So at the end of the class, when I got the the part about what it means to be a member, I didn't hold anything back. I told them honestly--there's a lot of great things and great people here. You will love the sense of community, the diversity, the opportunities for mission and ministry that are available to you at Woodside. But, it's also going to be hard work. We need people with fresh ideas and energy, people who are willing to give of themselves in every way--spiritually, physically, financially--to be members here. I told them that if they aren't ready for this level of commitment, it's OK. They are welcome to be a part of our worshipping community, take part in classes and ministry opportunities, even serve on most committees without being a member. But if they were ready to jump in, there was a place for them to serve, to help develop the vision and mission of this church.

And something incredible happened. We went around the circle and everyone except one person--ten people--said: I'm ready. They knew what they were in for and they are excited. They are passionate and hopeful and faithful. And I think they will fit in well at Woodside. They will find that there are a lot of other people here who share this same love for and commitment to Christ's church. (And, by the way, I have the utmost respect for the woman who said she wasn't yet ready to join, because she, too understood that this was a commitment not to be taken lightly).

You know, joining a church is not like joining a country club. It's not like signing up for a magazine subscription or tickets to a concert series. If we need an analogy, I guess I would say that it's more like joining a gym. Just being a member doesn't really get you anywhere. You have to go regularly and sweat and be sore and tired sometimes in order to get results. But the result is a healthier life. When we really join a church and give it our all, we ultimately get more out of it. And I believe that a commitment to Christian discipleship lived out in community really does make all the difference in our lives.

Alright then...Let's get to work!

Rev. Mom

2006-09-19T18:54:00.000-07:00

When Nora was just a few months old I took her with me to a leadership seminar. At some point I recall that we were asked to introduce ourselves and say something about our ministry. I said my name and where I was the pastor, and that I was currently on maternity leave with this new baby, "not that that has anything to do with my ministry" I added quickly. One of the other women pastors (who also had a baby there with her) said gently, "No... it has everything to do with your ministry."

Perhaps I was just too new at the whole mom thing to get it (or maybe it was sleep deprivation, who knows) but everyday I become more aware of how much being Nora's mom shapes my ministry. This toddler stage, in particular, has taught me a lot that has also been helpful to me as a pastor.

Just a few lessons I've learned lately:

Patience, Patience, Patience. I am not always as patient as I should be, but being a mom has certainly helped me grow in this area. Everything is a learning experience for a two year old, and lots of times they just can't be rushed from one thing to the next. Plus, testing their wills is part of our developing relationship as she becomes her own person. Does that sound like church to you?

Eat your Veggies and Take a Bath. Sometimes we have to do things that we don't like just because they are good for us. And, unfortunately, that's something that doesn't change no matter how old we get to be.

Life is Good. When you look at the world through the eyes of a toddler, there is so much more beauty and joy and love in the world. One of Nora's favorite words these days is "Wow!" Just about everything is "wow" for her, and it helps me appreciate the world around me a lot more. Plus Nora is the kind of kid for whom every person she meets is a potential friend, and that reminds me, too, to see everyone as a child of God.

Remember What's Important. There's always more work to do in the church, but sometimes the most important thing I need to do is read a bedtime story with my little girl.

This past Sunday one of my church members saw me walking around in the sanctuary before the service carrying Nora on my hip and said to me, with a mix of kindness, joy and surprise: "When I saw you with that baby, I thought to myself, I just can't believe that's our pastor!"

Yep, that's me. Rev. Mom.

(Last) Monday @ Mayorga

2006-09-14T19:38:00.000-07:00

I always feel a little nervous starting a new thing. I wonder: will people come? and what might happen when they do? will people connect with each other? will they learn, be challenged, have fun?

Well, what a relief it was this past Monday, when we started our monthly coffee & conversation group Mondays @ Mayorga, and it was great. There was a really neat group of 14 people who came, including long time members of the church as well as newer people (even one woman whose first Sunday was last Sunday--that was really cool!). Because it was September 11th, we talked about our memories of that fateful day five years ago and how our lives and perspectives have changed since. There was some very powerful sharing that happened, and one person said that she thought that being away from the church allowed people to talk about things that people don't talk about at church where they may feel more guarded.

So if you missed it, here is the meditation that we used for our first Mondays @ Mayorga. Feel free to post your thoughts below and keep the conversation going. And come join us again on October 9th at 8:00 PM.

Where were you/what are your memories from September 11th, 2001?

How would you finish the sentence: “After (or since) September 11th…”?

September 11, 2006 Meditation by Rev. Vicky Starnes

Psalm 27:1-10, 13-14

The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? When evildoers assail me to devour my flesh—my adversaries and foes—they shall stumble and fall. Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war rise up against me, yet I will be confident. One thing I asked of the LORD, that will I seek after: to live in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the LORD, and to inquire in his temple. For he will hide me in his shelter in the day of trouble; he will conceal me under the cover of his tent; he will set me high on a rock. Now my head is lifted up above my enemies all around me, and I will offer in his tent sacrifices with shouts of joy; I will sing and make melody to the LORD. Hear, O LORD, when I cry aloud, be gracious to me and answer me! “Come,” my heart says, “seek his face!” Your face, LORD, do I seek. Do not hide your face from me. Do not turn your servant away in anger, you who have been my help. Do not cast me off, do not forsake me, O God of my salvation! If my father and mother forsake me, the LORD will take me up. I believe that I shall see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. Wait for the LORD; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the LORD!

Pondering and meditating: On this anniversary of September 11th, what words from the psalmist bring us comfort and hope years after the tragic events of 2001? What does God desire of us now?

Prayer: Loving God, we remember those who died on this day five years ago. Send comfort and hope to their families and to all of us, as we strive to be your people. Amen.

Be Quiet

2006-08-30T18:41:00.000-07:00

Tonight, after the rain, could you hear the crickets? It was so beautiful. We turned off the A/C, and opened a few windows. Nora was asleep and Marcus had gone to the grocery store. I finished the dinner dishes and made some phone calls. Then I lit a couple of candles and just sat and listened to the crickets.

I don't do that enough. I mean, who really has time most days to just sit around and enjoy the sounds, the smells?

Be still, the voice says, and know that I am God.
But it's the being still part that's so hard for me.
I sit down and immediately all I can think of ten things that I should be doing.

In our staff meeting yesterday, I shared this poem called Let it Heal by Ruth Foreman.
It begins...

Listen to the song and let it tell you how
be quiet be quiet be still
let the angels put their hands on where it hurts and
smooth be quiet be still
ask for prayers around you and bathe in song
be quiet be quiet be still
sit in children's laughter twice a day
be quiet be quiet be still
leave your thoughts for another time
wrap yourself in daylight
knit yourself a friend tighter than you imagined
let good people close to you
move away from those that suck from you
be safe be quiet be still

Be quiet. Be still.
Be still and know that I am God.
Tonight, after the rain, could you hear the crickets?

Katrina Revisited

2006-08-30T08:51:00.000-07:00

By the Waters of the Levee
(Inspired by Psalm 137)
by Lyne Stull-Lipps

By the waters of the levee we sit and weep
as we remembered our homes.
Having lost our accordions, our fiddles,
our family pictures, our journals where we recorded the stories of our lives…
we huddle in arenas
waiting for food and water to arrive.

Our rescuers ask us to be patient,
help is on its way,
sing a song to bide the time.
But how can we sing songs,
when all we have,
our past and our future,
is buried in the deluge?

How can we play our Zydeco and our Jazz,
when around us lie the dead and the dying?
Let our hearts sorrow…
in time they will be healed.

We will remember our cities;
we will honor our towns;
we will rebuild our neighborhoods.
And one day, when the crisis has passed,
we will tell again the stories,
and play once more the music of our city.

This was beautifully read as part of our Katrina rememberance service on Sunday by Katie Whitley. Katie is originally from New Orleans, and she took in her brother and sister-in-law, Bill and Evelyn Porter, and Evelyn's daughter and family after Katrina. We heard from Evelyn and from Hildebrand Ebanks, who evacuated from New Orleans and has become part of our church family. We also took up and offering for the United Methodist Committee on Relief for their rebuilding efforts in the Gulf region.

We must not forget the suffering, the need, the injustices. And we also celebrate the stories of hope and healing that have come out of the disaster of Hurricane Katrina this past year.

"The View From the Top of the Mountain"

2006-08-15T11:55:00.000-07:00

The most recent Newsweek has a beautiful article about the aging Billy Graham and how time and life and the nearness of death have changed his perspective on many things theological and political. The article is a very brief retrospective on this evangelical icon, but it doesn't shy away from reflecting on his failures as well as his incredible contributions. "Graham's tranquil voice, though growing fainter, has rarely been more relevant." How true that is--and how I wish that there were more religious leaders committed to a message of grace, truth, love and mystery.

One quote from the article that I love:
"It would be foolish for me to speculate on who will be [in heaven] and who won't. [God] gave his son for the whole world and I think he loves everybody regardless of what label they have."

As Jews and Muslims struggle violently in the Middle East, as terrorists misuse Islam to justify hatred and violence, as fundamentalists of every faith seek to define God by their own narrow view--what a powerful idea that is. Yes, the world needs more Christians like Billy Graham.

Sports Hero?

2006-08-06T17:56:00.000-07:00

http://abcnews.go.com/Sports/wireStory?id=2250052

Note to self: be careful who your positive examples are in any and all sermons. And be extra cautious when using examples from the world of sports.

A few weeks ago, in a sermon on strengths and weaknesses, (for which the text was 2 Corinthians 12:2-10) I talked about the then-favorite to win the Tour de France, American rider Floyd Landis. I had read a really good article about him in the paper that talked about his Mennonite background, how hard-working and disciplined he was, and what an all-around good guy he seemed to be. I was particularly impressed with this part:

Says Phonak team member Robert Hunter: "In many instances he hasn't been prepared to totally waste the team for his own benefit. . . . He's always thinking of the team's consideration before thinking of himself. Then that makes us say, 'Don't think about us.' " But there's an upside: "A lot of the time the guys end up sacrificing more for him." Still, Landis seems uncomfortable with aiming for his own achievement at the expense of his teammates.

I thought this was a really great illustration for the point I was trying to make--that sometimes the things that seem like weaknesses can sometimes be an opportunity for God to do great things. And sometimes what our culture defines as weakness (humility, sacrifice, service...) is actually where God can make us strong.

Now, in general I stay away from talking about sports in sermons for two reasons:

1) I basically think that our national obession with sports is ridiculous, a waste of time, and a terrible wast of money.

2) Barry Bonds, Kobe Bryant, OJ Simpson...do I need to go on?

But this guy seemed different. A selfless, team player, and a Christian (or at least raised as one). Well, things aren't as they seem I guess. Because last week Landis tested positive for doping and on Saturday it was announced that his second sample also came back positive.

I felt duped. And sad. I had bought the whole Floyd Landis package about him being the next Lance Armstrong and making us proud as a country because he was a great cyclist and a great person, too, but I guess he's just another competitive athlete who will do anything to win, even if it means cheating. He still denys that he did anything illegal, but even if he is able to prove his innocence, his career is over.

And I felt foolish for ever bringing his name into a sermon as an example of someone we might want to look up to.

Upon further reflection, however, I think that the message still stands. In fact, maybe Floyd Landis is an even better example now. You see, when we allow God to enter into our weakness, God's power can be seen more clearly, and the more we try and use our own power to achieve success or glory, the more humbling it will be when we fail. (Particularly if we are in the international limelight when it happens.) People are essentially human--we mess up and let each other down and make mistakes and look foolish. And that's where God comes in. God makes us stronger in our weaknesses, and sometimes humbles us so we can remember the source of our strength, the purpose of our being. And that's equally true whether we are cyclists or preachers.

Life-Raft Friends

2006-08-04T12:16:00.000-07:00

This past week, one of my best friends in the world came through town and stayed with us. I first met Erik at an interview weekend for a fellowship at Candler School of Theology--that means that we were competitors for a coveteted chunk of scholarship money. (As it turns out, we both got one, so it was OK.) But from the moment I met Erik, his warmth, faith, passion, even his gross sense of humor made me adore him.

During our first year of seminary we lived just a couple of doors down from each other so we (and our roomates, Amy-Ellen and Jimmy) were practically inseparable. Through Old Testament classes, new romances, break-ups, and Contextual Education, these were the friends that I laughed, cried and sang karaoke with in order to stay sane.

Since we graduated, I got married, became a pastor and had a child, and I guess I have gotten somewhat settled. But Erik had to do two more years of seminary training in New Jersey and then Philadelphia, moved to Atlanta to be with his love and searched for work, broke up with love and moved to DC for a job, moved back to Atlanta and is about to embark on an exciting new journey (finally--yipee!!) pastoring a church in Chicago. During that time we have been lucky to have seen a good bit of Erik when he's in town.

This last visit, he got to our new house late Saturday night and was telling us about his trip. Along the way, he said, the thought came to him: Rachel and Marcus are my life-raft friends. Because when the storms of his life have raged, Erik has often sought, and found, refuge with us.
It's a privilege to be a life-raft for a dear friend, because keeping them afloat brings you up, too. And Erik certainly has been a life-raft friend for me, too. The best thing of all is knowing that you have people like that in your life--people you can depend on, crash with, cry to, laugh with, pray with. Thanks Erik. And thank you, God, for friends like that.

Painting Party

2006-08-02T18:19:00.000-07:00

We sold our house this week.

I guess I am supposed to feel happy about that, but it was a very bittersweet thing, actually. While we were sitting at this table in the settlement office with the young, newlywed couple who bought our house, as well as our giddy real estate agents, and some other official people taking their cut of the deal and signing piles of papers, Marcus and I both said, at least 3 or 4 times, "we really loved this house--we hope you will, too" or "it's a great neighborhood, we hope you'll enjoy living there." It was probably kind of annoying for them, but we were feeling nostalgic and sad and a little bit like we were leaving our hip, carefree urban life to be older, mature, responsible parents who have moved to the suburbs (sigh).

We asked them when they were planning to move in and the woman of the couple told us: "In a couple of weeks. This weekend we are going to have a painting party with my parents--they like to do that kind of thing. Oh, and sorry...the clouds are going to be the first thing to go."

You see, when we turned our study into a crib room for Nora, I had Marcus paint the ceiling a bright sky blue. Then I made clouds with white paint and a sponge. It was so cute. But of course I didn't expect that the new owners would necessarily want to keep the clouds. I also knew that they probably wouldn't keep the bright yellow rubber ducky bathroom, and they might even want to change the purple and green bedrooms. It's their house now, and they can and should do whatever they want. But I don't want to hear about it!

Here I was feeling kind of sad and nostalgic and homesick and this chick was talking about how she was going to redecorate MY HOUSE!

The next day--after I had thought about it for a while--it occured to me that it might be a message from God. Maybe it was God's not-so-subtle way of giving me a word of caution about how and when to inititate changes in this new place where I am living. And I don't mean the parsonage--I mean the church.

Lots of people have told me that they are looking forward to changes, and most people, I think, are supportive of change, because some change can be a really good thing. But the key is in the timing and approach. I hope that I am being sensitive to any grief that people may have about the change in leadership at Woodside, and that as we talk about things that may be different in the future I am building support for those changes and not just busting in and redecorating.

I think there will be some "rooms to repaint" at Woodside, but I am not buying the house--I'm moving in! So I hope it will be a painting party that everyone will want to be a part of. I sure wouldn't want to try and do it alone!

So...how do you feel about the color red?

CrossWalk

2006-07-27T18:18:00.000-07:00

A few years ago a group of religious folks had a fuel consumption awareness campaign going with the thought-provoking slogan "What Would Jesus Drive?" And while it's fun just to think about whether today the Messiah would drive a hybrid, or perhaps a beat-up pick up truck (can't you just picture it...with all disciples all riding in the back? Except James and John of course--they'd be arguing over who gets to ride "shotgun."), or whether, as my friend Amy suggests, Jesus rides the bus, the truth is that most of the time, back in the day, Jesus walked.

That's what I was thinking about today as I walked through downtown Silver Spring with a group from the AIM (Action in Montgomery) strategy team and a representative from the State Highway Administration's Department of Pedestrian Safety. One of AIM's goals is to increase pedestrian safety at several of the most dangerous intersections in downtown Silver Spring by doing things like making sure intersections have crosswalks, that pedestrians have enough time to make it across the street, and ensuring that pedestrians are visable to drivers. It seems like an easy goal to achieve, but since there are three major roads that people use to get into and out of DC that cut through the heart of downtown Silver Spring and tons of pedestrians, too, it isn't as simple as it seems.

As we walked and talked, I looked around and thought about all the people getting places on foot. There were young professionals in their suits and sneakers; moms pushing hot, sleepy kids in strollers; carefree teenagers running across the street; people leaving work, or headed there; people using wheelchairs, and older folks walking with assistance. And I thought about why it was that we, a handful of church folks, were out in the 90 degree heat talking about crosswalks.

The first reason is because a community is made up of people, and when people can get out of their cars (and office buildings and subdivisions and condos) and meet each other on the street that helps build and strengthen our community. But in order to do that they need to feel safe and secure out on those streets.

And the second, and no less important reason, is because--let's face it--most of the people who walk to get places do it because they don't have any other way of getting around. So pedestrian safety is also a justice issue, because everyone deserves to be safe.

And ultimately, we were out there, because that's where Jesus would have been, out on the streets, walking, meeting people in the midst of their comings and goings and loving them. So I felt a little closer to Jesus today--even if I do normally drive an SUV.

a funeral is a wedding with God

2006-07-25T12:33:00.000-07:00

On Sunday afternoon I was visiting with a Woodside member who has been recovering these last two weeks from back surgery. She had spent Sunday morning in the ER getting IV fluids because she had gotten dehydrated. Jean has a wonderful spirit, great attitude and a deep faith, all of which are really helping her in her healing. But at one point during our visit she said (only partly joking, I think), "it's awful getting old--don't do it!" I responded that I thought getting old was probably better than the alternative. She shot back without missing a beat, "Hey, you'd better practice what you preach!"

Of course we Christians do believe that there is something better than this life. A place without suffering or pain. Jesus described this life to come as a heavenly banquet and as a house with many rooms. I like those images. They give me strength and hope, and I do believe it (even if I am not, just yet, ready to go there).

I also like this poem by Ruth Foreman, and so I thought I would share.

Wedding

A funeral is a wedding with God
betrothed to him
we are at death finally married
his from the beginning of beginnings

death a time of white flowers
veils lifted
and love from the whole spirit

i will tell my children
yes wear black on the outside
tribute the scars of this world
but wear light on the inside
for the glory of the one who passed

this is the day of celebration
the day of love and arms to wrap you whole
for the rest of your lives

and i will tell you mother that I am proud to help you gather your gown
your thread your stitches shoes and stockings
i am proud to be your waiting girl for that day
i apologize if i ever made you feel rushed or uncomfortable
i will remember the preparation and need
i will remember the pre-wedding days
i will remember them past my own
and i will tell my children
i will tell them

It's Not the 1950's Anymore

2006-07-21T06:58:00.000-07:00

Last week I was in Boston for a gathering of young clergy from the Lewis Center for Church Leadership fellowship group that I have been lucky enough to be a part of the last two years. Whenever I am with these folks I learn so much--not only from our presenters, who are almost always excellent, engaging and challenging--but also from my colleagues, 20 or so other pastors in their 20's and 30's serving churches of different denominations across the country.

One of our presentations this time was by Nancy Ammerman, a researcher, author, and professor of Sociology of Religion at Harvard. She talked with us about the challenges facing our churches in a changing society. Here are some of the highlights:

In case you haven't noticed...
It isn’t the 1950’s anymore.

Most of the people coming to church these days aren't a stereotypical middle class family consisting of mom, dad and 2.5 kids. Today, the church members you get:
· Haven’t been there all their lives
· Aren’t related to anyone who’s already there
· May not be coming “for the children”
· Probably didn’t grow up in your tradition or any tradition
· Don’t live in the neighborhood
· Probably found you on the internet
(But of all the demographic groups most likely to seek out a church, the "married with kids" group are still the most likely.)

Therefore, the models of church that are stuck in the 1950's are not well suited to the world we live in.

A Glimpse of The Changing World We Live In:

Growing numbers of immigrants: 11% of US population was born somewhere other than the US; born in places other than Europe (Latin America 41%, Africa/ Caribbean 10%, Asia 26%) and they aren't just immigrating to the coasts--they are coming to the South, Mid-West, small towns and rural areas.
Mobility: 49% of people live in same house as 5 years ago; 25% moved within county in the last 5 years; 25% moved in from outside the county—therefore there are fewer people with long term connections to our community.
Connectedness—80% of the US population has some kind of access to the internet, the majority of people have more education; this impacts the experiences and expectations that people bring into the church.
Congregational membership: fewer people are life long members of the same church. The churches with the highest stability are Roman Catholic and African American churches; the churches with the most people "switching" are Pentecostals, and sectarian groups like Mormons and Jehovah’s Witnesses, because they have more converts.
Family composition: in 2000— 23.6 % of the population was married with kids (and this group is decreasing), 9.2% were single with kids (a stable number), 28.1 % were married with no kids (increasing), 16.6 % live alone (increasing), 9.2 % are seniors who live alone seniors (increasing), 13.3 % are "other households" (increasing).
Beginning of the last century, in the majority of homes one parent would die before the last child left the house so the empty nest phenomenon only came about in the last century.

These are some of the interesting trends in American society. And yet, every congregation is a constantly evolving, intentionally created community, therefore, you can’t make assumptions about the status quo.

So how does the church change to meet and engage with our changing society? Dr. Ammerman had some ideas. She called them "Leading in the Midst of Change: Seven Habits for Adaptive Leadership" (note the word is not leaders, but leadership—because leadership is a shared task)

Adaptive leadership requires curiosity about the world:
Walk around, drive around and hang out
Talk to planning departments and get census data
Read local newspapers
Get to know public officials
Talk to your own people
It also requires honest self-assessment:
· Ask: “How we do things here” and get to know your congregation’s culture
· Examine the unspoken assumptions about “who we are”
And entrepreneurship—which means imagining resources for getting things done
· Resources come in all shapes and sizes—people, skills, energy, space, infrastructure, and money
· Remember that connections are resources, too
Playful experimentation—having a sense of humor
· Don’t put all your eggs in one basket
· Be ready to try things that seem a little crazy
· Don’t be afraid to fail
· Be ready to laugh when you do
Adaptive Leadership should make it dramatic
· Tell stories about who you are becoming
· Create visual symbols and images (like using different kinds of bread for communion in a congregation that is multicultural)
Practice Deep Hospitality
· remember that newcomers don’t know anyone, don’t know all the rules, don’t know how to get things done, and may not know much about your tradition
· Sunday morning is not an “in house” morning and worship should be designed to welcome new people
· Remember that minorities of any sort will feel like outsiders
Be Ready for Conflict
· Congregations without conflict do not change
· Yes, a few people just might leave
· People will chafe as much over how things are done as over what is done. So negotiating the “how” is the important challenge for leadership

And The Eighth Habit: Spiritual Discernment. Pray, pray and pray more. Let God give the vision, and the Holy Spirit provide the power. With God all things are possible.

Well, friends...looks like we've got plenty to keep us busy! And I am really looking forward to working with you all at Woodside to build our adaptive leadership and engage our community. Be sure to let me know what you think about this, too, OK? You can post your comments below.

Welcome to Woodside

2006-07-09T11:19:00.000-07:00

It's a steep climb up this learning curve, the one that comes from transitioning from associate pastor to "pastor-in-charge" (in charge of exactly what I am still not sure!). After a long day of moving that nearly didn't happen, week one at Woodside UMC began with a Spirit-filled worship service. We celebrated communion and there was a liturgy to celebrate my appointment which involved many new (to me) and wonderful people. Everyone was excited to meet us and many people told us how glad they are to have us there--it was a great welcome.

But then the work week began, and with it came building issues, illness, death and dying, assisting neighbors in need...and it culminated with an accident on Georgia Ave. in which one of the drivers crashed into our lawn, building and the church sign which still reads: Rev. Rachel Cornwell, Welcome to Woodside! (Thankfully, no one was seriously hurt!)

It has been a little overwhelming, but it has also been a great first week. There was that really engergizing meeting with the outreach co-chairs who caught me up on all the cool ideas they have for the church in the coming months including an all-church picnic (August 13th!), a fall open house, and Wednesday nights at Woodside with dinner and a program for the community. There was a great celebration of the life of Rosemary Louft and the passing of Helen Sherbert, two long-time, faithful members of the church and a gathering of family and friends, and the sharing of memories, and I had the priviledge of being a part of that. And there were all the people who stopped by to talk, the introductions and getting to know each other that's made me feel like Woodside is becoming my home.

Best of all God has clearly been present this week--opening up opportunities, giving us fresh energy, watching over and protecting us. And like that sign, I'm still standing!

Renewal

2006-06-30T08:45:00.000-07:00

Marcus and I took a weekend off between church appointments for a little renewal time. We took Nora and the dog, Sojourner, on a camping trip to Assateague Island National Park. It was the best of both worlds for us because Marcus loves to camp and I love the beach. And it was wonderful to have down-time together as a family. The first morning, Nora woke us up at 4:15 a.m. and, realizing that she wasn't planning on going back to sleep, we packed up and headed for the beach to watch the sunrise. (Marcus and I have always said we wanted to do this, but never managed to get up early enough--aren't children great?!) It was a gorgeous morning--clear and cool--and there were none of the mosquitos on the beach that we had at the campsite. Marcus made coffee and we ate peaches and raisin bran...what a gift.

Anyway, here are some pictures:

So Grateful

2006-06-18T17:17:00.000-07:00

Today was one of the hardest and best days of my life. It was my last Sunday at Bethesda UMC, the church that I have been blessed to serve for nearly four years. We got to sing all of my favorite songs, baptize a baby boy, consecrate our youth work camp teams, celebrate a liturgy where I returned the symbols of my office to leaders in the church, and I preached about love—God’s love and the love we have shared and will always share, even as we part ways.

After the service, there was a program where a lot of folks, in a lot of different ways, blessed Marcus, Nora and I with well wishes and thanks. There were lots and lots of tears all around. It is totally humbling to realize that my presence, my preaching, my leadership, has really mattered to people and made a difference in their lives and faith journeys.

I am so grateful to all these wonderful folks for allowing me to be a pastor to them, and for loving me enough to send me forth with their blessings. I am so grateful to Rev. Ron, my co-pastor, for sharing leadership with me and trusting and believing in me. And I am grateful to God…for everything.

Girl Power

2006-05-25T19:52:00.000-07:00

When God first began to call me into ministry 19 years ago, I had never met an ordained woman. I knew many strong women, and women leaders in the church, the community and in my own family, but I had never met a woman pastor. The first woman minister I knew was an Episcopalian priest I met in college--Mother Mary--and I remember being in awe of the way she preached and led worship with grace and tender care. And I am very grateful for Brother Don Eubanks who planted the seed in my heart to become a pastor, because he first saw in me what I couldn’t yet see in myself.

Tomorrow my long journey toward ordination will be complete. And it just so happens that this year is also the 50th Anniversary of Full Clergy Rights for Women in the United Methodist Church. Last night we had a wonderful clergywomen’s celebration to honor this milestone. We gathered at dinner and I got to sit with some of my favorite clergywomen—my mentor, Mary Kraus, and my dear friend from seminary Amy-Ellen Duke. Mary, who was the first woman to be ordained in the Minnesota Annual Conference told us to look around at the crowded room; she told us that when she first came to the Baltimore Washington Conference in the early 1970’s the clergywomen’s gathering was just a few women, gathered in the living room of Susan Morrison (who is now the senior Bishop in our denomination).

After dinner, Dr. Bernice Johnson Reagon of the a capella group Sweet Honey and the Rock began the evening storytelling and preaching and singing. Her voice is so epherial—I felt like I was transported. Then all the clergywomen processed into the ballroom by ordination classes. I followed all the women who have gone before me to blaze the trail. Even though I am the first woman to have served at Bethesda, and now the first woman to serve at Woodside, I know that I am not the first woman to have been the first, and there is great comfort in that.

And I also have great joy knowing that I will not be the last. After a service filled with heartfelt singing, reading of scripture, testimony, dancing, and a fun slide show showing the diversity of women in ministry, all clergywomen were invited onto the stage. There was a sea of women—white, black, Asian, some carrying infants, some walking with assistance. And we invited any other women who felt a call to ministry to come forward. Rev. Vicki Starnes walked forward with her teenage daughter, Hannah, both of them in tears. I wondered if Nora might follow in this path, too; if God has put a call to ordained ministry on her life? I promise not to pressure her to go this way because it is not an easy road. But ministry is a privilege, and there is a wonderful sisterhood of other clergywomen to provide support and encouragement, to laugh and cry and sing together.

Signs of Life

2006-05-21T19:17:00.000-07:00

Our house has now been on the market for a week. For the past seven days complete strangers have been letting themselves in the front door, trapsing through our home, and presumably making comments like, "Uhg. What a terrible color to paint that room..." Here's the link--you can check it out yourself: http://www.homesdatabase.com/DC6051997

Prospective buyers have been walking through our house this week trying to decide if they might be able to live in our house. They have been trying to picture their sofa in our living room, their clothes in the closet, trying to imagine entertaining their family and friends in our dining room. And so we have been trying to keep the house neat and tidy, to help them be able to imagine themselves in this house and not get distracted by our stuff. The house, we were told, is supposed to look like no one lives there. And it's so strange.

The ironic thing is that I always thought that this is how I wanted my house to look. Marcus and I used to argue about this (until we hired a housecleaner to come twice a month and it saved our marriage--seriously). I love a clean house. I love to walk around barefoot and not have dog hair stick to my feet. I love it when the dust is gone, when the kitchen shines...But as it turns out, I also kind of like the signs of life that come with a messy house. You know, a drying rack on the counter of dishes that were washed the day before, mail on the dinner table, laundry baskets, toys and books on the floor. All the stuff that makes a house looks lived in, that makes a house a home. These days our house looks a bit sterile, generic--kinda like a hotel.

I hope someone makes us an offer soon. The house needs to look lived in again. And I'll try to remember this feeling next time I'm griping at Marcus to pick up the newspapers...

Hands, Feet and Something to Eat

2006-05-03T13:39:00.000-07:00

This is the text of last Sunday's sermon on Luke 24: 36-49.

Bill Wylie-Kellerman wrote that "If you can read the gospels without getting hungry you aren’t paying attention." Our stories about Jesus are full of food—Jesus eating with tax collectors and sinners, producing mountain-side feasts, sharing celebrations and last suppers, bread and fish and wine. And there are these post-Easter stories where Jesus breaks bread and eats with his old friends once again, just as he did before he died. None of them expected to see Jesus again, and yet he keeps surprising them on the beach or the road or in a room in Jerusalem, and each time he has the same invitation: let’s eat. It’s such a strange and wonderful thing—the resurrected Jesus comes back with an appetite.

Today we might have trouble believing in the resurrection of the body—but first century Jews didn’t. Bodily resurrection was part of their tradition—and still is for some. Some of my more devout Jewish friends have told me that they won’t get tattoos because of they believe that eventually their body will be resurrected and any alteration of the body is considered a defilement. (Besides, you might really regret that funky Chinese character meaning "laughter" if you had to live with it for eternity).

Lauren Winner writes about the Jewish celebration of the body in her book Mudhouse Sabbath. She writes that Jewish men carry the mark of the covenant with God in their very flesh. She says that "the bris suggests that we do religion with our souls, hearts, minds but also with our bodies." She also notes that Judaism offers opportunities for people to inhabit and sanctify bodies and bodily practices. Even the bathroom offers the chance for reverence to God: Rabbi Yehudah ha-Hasid said, "when you are in the bath, remember how much uncleanness and filth exits from your body and be humbled."

This might seem strange to us, because, I think, Christianity can sometimes be too spiritual—we are ambivalent or even uncomfortable with the human body. Thanks to Saint Augustine and others, we have been influenced by a mind-body dualism that considers the flesh to be unclean, sinful, even, and the spiritual to be the higher part of God’s creation.

Our culture, too, has a strange relationship with the human body—bodies are OK if they are clean and healthy, beautiful and thin. We get weird about our imperfections and infirmities—anything that might suggest death or sexuality or illness. We put great amounts of time, money and energy to keep our bodies in good shape, and so it’s surprising, frustrating, irritating, miserable when they start to wear out, break down, fall apart. But our bodies are fallible—they get sick and old and tired.

But our bodies are not cages for our souls; they are the creation of a good and loving God. They are sacred, and often we come to know God most intimately though the physical experiences of our lives. We experience God’s love through the touch of a mother or father, spouse or close friend. We feel both the closeness and the awesomeness of God through birth, and sometimes, too, in illness and death. The relationship we have with God is not just a disembodied spirituality—we come to know and experience God in and through our very flesh. Call it incarnation.

That’s why the resurrection of Christ must be a physical one—he eats with his friends and he invites them to touch him. He is real, solid and alive. "The resurrection is God’s way of revealing to us that nothing that belongs to God will ever go to waste," wrote Henri J.M. Nouwen in Our Greatest Gift. "What belongs to God will never get lost — not even our mortal bodies."

Reflecting this week about Jesus’ physical and spiritual presence with the disciples has been made real in my life, as I think about how quickly July 1 is approaching, about how soon I will no longer have the privilege of being your pastor. I won’t be worshiping with you, serving you communion, celebrating the joys of your lives and walking with you in your struggles. I have been thinking about how someone new will hopefully take my place and do things differently, maybe even better, than me. But I am also reminded of the ways that I have been transformed by being in ministry with all of you the last nearly four years. I will always carry with me the hugs and tears we’ve shared together, the times I have held your hands in prayer, the babies I have held and baptized. In those memories, you will be alive for me, as I hope I will be for you.
The hardest thing about human life is that it doesn’t last. Things change. People die. People go away. And we hold tight to the memories of the tangible, physical experiences because they help us remember not only the one who is gone, but who we have become because we have known them.

Jesus came back to the disciples on the Emmaus road, in their hiding place in Jerusalem, on the beach in Galilee and invited them to touch him, to eat with him, to experience his physical presence once again. He does this to remind the disciples to look back—to what he said and did in their midst when he was alive because he knew that someday soon he was no longer going to be with them, and he wanted them to remember who he was and who they were, too.
And he calls them to look forward, too—to be "witnesses." The disciples become Christ’s hands and feet in the world. And Jesus still calls us as his disciples to be the body of Christ—baptizing and teaching, healing and feeding, transforming human lives body and soul in the name of Christ. Rev. Donna Schaper writes: "One good definition for a church is whether the homeless are using their bathrooms. Human need is growing — and when we touch it, we touch Jesus. When we touch Jesus, we are the body of Christ." She wrote this about The Church of the Savior in Washington, D.C.—a church of 150 members that runs 60 homeless, feeding and medical shelters throughout the city. Their mission statement is "If Jesus came back today, this is where he would worship." A pretty good mission statement for a church, I think.

This week in the Wednesday morning Grace Group we got onto the topic of how we model Christian servant-hood for our children. We talked about the conflict we all feel when a homeless person is standing at an intersection and our children, seeing someone in need, ask if we can help them. We want our kids to keep that sense of compassion, but we don’t want to give money to someone who doesn’t really need it, or use our resources in a way that doesn’t really seem to help the problem, or seem to support begging. We all have different ways of responding to those kind of situations, but it seems to me that part of what we’re also struggling with is just coming face to face with human need and suffering. That man with the sign is a visible reminder that there are people, some we see and some we don’t see, who live in poverty, who are hungry or ill or homeless. And it makes us hurt, makes us uncomfortable, makes us struggle. Whether it’s the homeless man at the intersection of Democracy and Old Georgetown or images of refugees in Darfur—they remind us that we are called to be the hands and feet of Christ. Christ is alive, in our acts of compassion and justice.

So Christ calls us to remember him, to keep him alive, by reaching out—sharing love, mercy, care—and sometimes, yes, even food. And that's pretty appropriate—don’t you think?

More Than One Way

2006-03-31T10:21:00.000-08:00

I love my street! We live on the 600 block of Q Street NW in Washington, DC. It's a great street filled with one hundred-year-old row houses and great neighbors. There are lots of great streets in DC, but of all of them, I love Q Street the most because it is, for me, home.

Q Street is also a one-way street. Washington, DC is notoriously difficult to navigate because there are so many one-way streets (not to mention all the circles). And although, in theory, Washington should be pretty simple to figure out because it's planned on a grid, if you get going the wrong way on a one-way street, you can be lost before you know it and have to find a way to turn around.

I guess that religion can sometimes be that way, too. You're headed the right way on the one-way street, and then you hit a circle, or a diagonal avenue and you are not sure what will happen to your straight-and-narrow path when you encounter all this other traffic coming and going in all these other directions. Will you be able to stay on track?

Last night I was invited to be part of a panel discussion on Transforming Images of the Prophet organized by the Interfaith Conference of Greater Washington. Rabbi Norman Shore, Imam Johari Abdul-Malik and myself discussed the recent cartoon scandal in Denmark, images of Islam in the media and in culture and the commonalities and differences in our faiths. It was a wonderfully rich experience and I learned a lot.

The people who came to the discussion were a diverse group. Many were Jewish or Christian or Muslim and came to engage in an interfaith dialogue from their particular perspective. There were others who believed that all religion was too narrow and saw themselves as interfaith. One man I talked to went to a Conservative Jewish synagogue, but was very well informed about the cartoon issue. Another woman told me she had been raised Jewish, but "didn't like all that sin stuff" and now considered herself "a little bit Christian, a little bit Jewish, a little bit Buddhist...". She went to a church called Unity (where she is studying to be a minister) and also to a kabbalist dream interpretation circle. It was quite an interesting group.

After the program part of the evening, I was talking with the Rabbi and the Imam (sounds like the beginning of a joke, doesn't it...), and a man approached us with a question. All three of our faiths taught us to love our neighbor, he said (correctly) and yet each claimed "priority status" with God--the Jews claim to be God's chosen people, Christians beleive that Jesus is God, and Islam claims that it's the only way. So how, he asked, can you really love someone if you think you are better than them?

It is a valid question, and I would not deny that Christians throughout history have engaged in some pretty awful things in the name of Christ who calls us to love--crusades, inquisitions, forced conversions, slavery--just to name a few. But for me, I said, I understand my call to love my neighbor comes from a place of humility and submission. Christ died for me while I was still a sinner, which means that I am not any better than others because Christ is my Savior, I am just (hopefully) different.

"But you think you are better than me because I don't believe in Jesus," this man said. "No, I don't," I replied, honestly. But all my earnestness was not changing his mind.

On the way home, of course, I thought of lots of things I wish I had said. The first of which is that, if I really thought I was better than people of other faiths, I wouldn't bother engaging in interfaith dialogue at all. But I truly want to learn and share with people of other faiths, and not because I want to make them Christian. My goal is not to become interfaith, but to be the best Christian I can be--which means being humble, and respectful and loving--and learn to speak to people of other faiths from my own Christian perspective.

The second is that I fully acknowldge that Christians have a long way to go in repenting for our sins of the past and earning the trust of people of other faiths (and people with no particular faith, too). And by being myself, that is, Christian, and working, studying and talking with people of other faiths with respect and honesty, I hope we will make some progress in building trust and reconciliation.

And finally, that the desire to be right or the best or even God's favorite is not part of religion, it's part of human nature. Human beings have used their religions to bully and oppress each other, but that's not what God intended for any of us. Arrogance is not of God, and it's certainly not a Christian virtue--it's a sin.

I wish I had thought to say all those things, but I didn't. But something makes me think that it probably wouldn't have mattered anyway. I didn't need to try and convince him with my words. I needed to show him with my actions--by loving him, too.

I love my one-way street. And I don't think Q Street is necessarily better than P Street or R Street. But it's my home. Christianity is also a one-way street when we take up our cross and follow Jesus. But our world is full of traffic circles where we encounter folks of other faiths, multipule faiths or no faith at all. The key is to drive well on the street you're on and when you get to those tough intersections, merge into traffic without crashing, and get back onto your one-way street on the other side.

A Day ON

2006-01-31T13:01:00.000-08:00

Bethesda UMC has had a partnership with Casa Del Pueblo UMC in Columbia Heights for many years now. This partnership began with a work day on Martin Luther King, Jr.'s birthday. Folks from Bethesda spend the day at Casa painting, cleaning, doing whatever they need us to do that doesn't require much skill. One of the coolest things this year was how many youth came for the work day.

As we were working, I asked Pastor John about the state of his parsonage (the house that a church owns where, usually, the pastor lives). Many parsonages aren't in the best shape, but knowing how Casa struggles to keep up the church building I wondered what the state of his house was. And Casa's parsonage is in terrible shape. They recently had the roof replaced because there were trees taking root on it. John said one night a few years ago, he was up studying and his wife and baby were asleep in their bed and the bedroom ceiling collapsed on them. They weren't badly hurt, but they had to be taken to the hospital for inhalation of dust. I would guess that many of Casa's church members live in not great or even sub-standard housing, but it made me sad and angry to think that my clergy colleague, who works so long and hard and faithfully, and his family (including little kids) have to live in a place like that. It also made me very grateful for what my family has.

Today Coretta Scott King died. After her husband was killed, Mrs. King carried on his legacy and leadership in the civil rights movement. I heard her say that she married Dr. King because she had fallen in love with him, but she had also fallen in love with the movement. So much progress has been made since 1964, but there is still so much more to do to bring about the Beloved Community. We need to continue to increase justice, love, compassion and equality. So Martin Luther King day will always be a day on for me.

Pastor John and the people at Casa always thank us so heartily for the work we do with them. I hope they know what a blessing it is for us, too, to be partners with them in ministry. Together we are building the dream.

Dirty Little Secrets

2006-01-14T10:01:00.000-08:00

Last weekend I went to the most amazing art exhibit I have seen in a long time called "PostSecret." Frank Warren started this project in 2001 by handing out postcards in public places like Metro stations and coffee shops and leaving little cards in library books, inviting people to write down a secret that they have never told anyone before and send it to him to post on a blog. In the old Staples store in Georgetown there were hundreds of beautiful, creative and moving postcards displayed.The secrets ranged from funny (on a Starbucks cup: "I give decaf to customers who are rude"), to the hearbreaking (see above).

I think that Frank Warren has tapped into a pervasive need that people have to release their secrets. We used to call it confessing our sins in my line of work. But for some reason people feel more comfortable sending a postcard to a safe stranger than coming to their pastor or church or God. Is it because the church has become irrelevant to so many people? Is it because we have so clearly defined "sin" as particular behaviors (that other people do, of course) and not as a human condition of brokeness that we all share? Is it because people feel like the church doesn't care about their depression or self-loathing or broken heart? Is is because we have spent so much time pointing fingers at "sinners" and condemning people for their sin and pretending that we in the church don't have any of our own that we have forgotten that Jesus came to seek and save the lost? Is it all of the above??

One of the most powerful parts of the exhibit was a display of emails from people telling how writing their secret on a postcard and dropping it in the mail had transformed them. One person wrote that she had sent her postcard in but that it hadn't made it onto the blog. She said that at first she was disappointed, but then she decided to write her confession on lots of cards and leave them on tables at the mall. She stood back and watched as people read the cards, and one person even took the card and put it in her purse. She said it made her feel so good to give her secert away and to see that someone cared enough to take her secret.

Warren said that he still gets 300-400 postcards each week. And I am so glad that people have found PostSecret and are liberating themselves from their secrets. I have said a lot of prayers as I look at these postcards--for the people writing them, for those who are still carrying around big burdensome secrets and are afraid to let them go, and for the church, that we will can learn from these secrets, learn to be a place of healing and compassion and mutual vulnerability.

Check out the PostSecret blog: http://postsecret.blogspot.com/

Picture Perfect

2006-01-12T09:05:00.000-08:00

I've been looking for a picture of myself to put up on this blog. I think you can tell a lot about a person from a photo, so I wanted to find just the right picture. And of course I wanted it to be a good picture. So I looked though all the digital photos we have taken over the last two years and couldn't find a single one that I wanted to use. First of all there were very few of me at all--most are of our one year old daughter Nora. We are crazy proud doting parents who take lots and lots of pictures of our first and only child. And that's fine. She's a lot cuter than me anyway.

Nora--Thanksgiving 2005.

In our photo albums there are some pictures of me with Nora. And some of me in various stages of pregnancy. But, as it turns out, in the pre-Nora era, Marcus and I didn't take all that many pictures of each other. I mean, why would you take pictures of the person you wake up next to every day when you can have a picture of the Eiffel Tower or 25 pictures of the Cubs/Cardinals game at Wrigley Field?

Wrigley Field, Cubs vs. Cardinals, August 2004.

And I am not very photogenic. I tend to blink every time there's a flash, and my smile is crooked. So even when I found a picture that had me in it, I would look at it and say, no, not that one. My hair's too frizzy...or I don't like what I'm wearing...or look at that big pimple--no way.

Most people don't like looking at pictures of themselves. We automatically focus on the things we don't like about ourselves--our hair, our weight, our skin, our clothing. Whatever it is. And other people might not see it, but we can be so darn hard on ourselves.

For Christmas this year Marcus and I had a family portrait and a portrait of Nora taken at a hoity-toity photo studio in Bethesda. It was hilarious. They told us what we should wear (jeans and a light colored, preferably pastel, shirt--to which Marcus replied you've got to be kidding). Then we went to this studio where they had a big white tarp suspended from the ceiling and spread out on the floor where they had us lay, kneel, squeeze in close, tickle the baby while the flash went off like the red carpet at the Oscars. We got our prints, and they were beautiful. But as we looked at them, we noticed they were touched up. The little bruise on Nora's head that she got from bumping into who-knows-what while trying to walk was gone. My skin looked better than it has for 15 years. And no frizz. They were really good pictures-- almost too good.

So I am posting a picture here of me. My friend Phoebe, who is 8, took it in Atlanta last fall. It's not a great photo. But it's real. And what I most want people to know about me... I'm real, too.

Is there enough time in the world to read everyone's blog?

2006-01-09T11:01:00.000-08:00

I think that 'blogs are an incredibly interesting phenomena. Kinda narcisistic. Kinda voyeristic. Fun to read. A great distraction.

As it turns out, some people that I know, and really respect, have great blogs. I have a friend with a knitting blog; another who has a haiku blog. We have a blog for our neighborhood. Several of my clergy colleagues have also started blogs. Dean Snyder, the pastor at Foundry United Methodist Church in Washington, DC, has a great blog (www.untiedmethodist.com), as does my friend Amy Butler, the pastor at Calvary Baptist Church, also in Washington (www.talkwiththepreacher.blogspot.com). In fact, it was Amy's blog that made me want to start my own.

A friend asked me (when we were talking about someone else who had started a 'blog) is there enough time in the world to read everyone's blog? Definitely not. So why would I add to the ramblings of the blogesphere?

Here's why:

1) I hate to journal. Seriously. I can never make myself do it, even though I know that I should because it is a spiritual discipline that so clearly counterbalances my overly extroverted personality. But I hate to go back and read what I have written. It always sounds trite and boring and self-indulgent. But if I knew someone might read my journal, would I be more self-reflective, and more disciplined, too.

2) I think people will read this blog (once I get up the courage to tell people about it, that is). Because everyone likes to feel a little bit famous, and if someone writes about you on the internet that's almost like being a celebrity. So I hope that my friends and family and members of Bethesda UMC will read this blog, if only because they are hoping I will say something nice about them.

3) My life is interesting. That sounds totally arrogant, and I don't mean it that way. Because it's not just my life that deserves to be written about--so does yours, his, hers, ours. But for me, being an almost 32-year-old female pastor, wife to a government lawyer, mother to a one year old, friend to lots of cool, interesting and diverse people, the daughter of parents living in Arkansas and California, and making a home in an urban Washington, DC neighborhood while serving a fantastic church in the suburbs makes for a lot of interesting stories--at least I think so.

4) And because maybe my stories will make you think about your life, your relationships, how God is moving and present in your world. And maybe then you'll start your own blog, too. If you do, let me know. I promise to read it.