It Still Hurts, God: A Narrative Prayer

About 22 years ago, someone I trusted and admired turned on me due to my sexuality. He went so far as to suggest that my relationship with his teenage daughter (I was still a teenager too) was inappropriate. He made it clear that I had no business working with kids and cost me the first job I loved by outing me to the church where I was associate youth director. I always suspected he did this out of fear because he intuited that his daughter was struggling with her own sexual self understanding. Nevertheless, his betrayal created a pain in my life that would be reinforced by my internalization of his and other's homophobic ideas. It would be years before I would allow myself to be alone with a child because of the fear someone else might accuse me of something awful. When I was finally able to disentangle that pain from my pain with the church (which included 7 years of never going to church but still feeling a deep faith and sense of call), I tried my best to move forward from the fear and pain. But it would still be many more years before I could imagine working with children. Even as I began my career as a chaplain, I felt timid and fearful about being with children. At this point, I've been a pediatric chaplain for over 8 years living out God's calling and I still take extra measures to prevent even the possibility of someone making a false accusation. Will I ever heal from that experience? I don't know. But I do know that the man who betrayed my trust has changed his stance on homosexuality (thanks to a whim to look him up on Facebook). In fact, he retired from his professorship some years ago and is now an Episcopal priest posting things about love and growing in faith on his Facebook. This seems hopeful to me. But as the recipient of his fearful slander years ago, it strikes me how easy his path past that moment seems compared to how painful mine still is. Holy One, what is true justice? Please release me from the bonds of shame and fear. Amen.

I’d Do It All over Again… All of It

I’m having a bad day and when I have a bad day I write or draw or both. Today, you are the unwitting recipient of my bad day reflections. This bad day is brought to you by a phone call from my doctor telling me that a test I had the other week had some very concerning results. She wanted me to come to her office ASAP. Fortunately, I work right next to my doctor’s office so I was able to leave work and go straight over. 

When I arrived, she told me that she needed to do a biopsy of some cells, blah, blah, blah… of course by this point I couldn't hear much of what she said because I had hit my saturation level of stress for the day because this new thing means that both my wife and I are struggling with major health concerns. At any rate, we did the biopsy this afternoon and I hope to hear the results by the end of this week. 

But all this is not why I’m writing. See, for the umpteen thousandth time, I had to consider the question of “What if I die soon?” It’s a useful question when discerning practical matters like wills and such but that question never resides simply in the mind. For most of us, the only reason we sit down to think of the practical considerations is as a matter of lessening the emotional worries. The reality is that the emotional matters of fear, loss, and worry are what arise in most of us when faced with the question of our death or the death of a loved one. 

And those feelings and questions are where my family and I have been for the last 18+ months. I’ve walked through my mother’s death and the legacy of reckoning with an irreparable relationship. In other family members, I’ve faced untreated mental illness and substance abuse which often lead to death. I’ve also faced the very real and ongoing possibility of losing my wife to unexpected illness. Now, my own health is back in focus as well.

But even that is not why I’m writing. I’m writing because all this brings up more than just fear of loss and the unknown. It also brings up the question of regret. Are there anchors of shame I’m dragging behind me? Are there relationships that should (note the difference between could and should) be repaired? Are there milestones left undone? 

Of course the answer is yes for all of those questions. The honest answer is that I have lots of pain, heartache, and unpursued dreams in the ripples and wake of my life. My life story contains abuse, trauma, bipolar disease, cancer and all manner of crude survival techniques to get through decades of suicidal thoughts and haunting forces so I damn well should have events that I wish could have been another way. Nevertheless, I don’t look back with regret and I try to release the shame because those dark waters are nothing compared to the wonder and meaning in the journey to get here. 

The truth is that I did the best I could every step of the way given who I am and the resources available to me. The number of moments, relationships, and resources that would have had to be different in my life to produce a different outcome are beyond my capacity. But I do know that I tapped into every resource that came my way and never lost sight of the hope that tomorrow would be different… and it always was. But greatest of all, I held onto the wonder and the meaning. 

Whether I live 50 days or 50 more years, the moments I passed through had meaning and I’ve shared that meaning with others to the best of my ability. Even during years of constant suicidal thoughts and depression, I survived on the moments where I saw glimmers of love, flashes of God, shining through other people. Still today, if I lost my wife to unimaginable illness, I’ve been blessed by our time in a way that I vow to always share in the world for its betterment. 

See, as much as I was overwhelmed by the prospect of cancer this morning, I’m even more clear that every moment has been worth it. I think it’s a false dichotomy to suggest that the opposite of regret is acceptance. The opposite of regret is resilient thriving in the meaning. Sure I want to lose 100lbs, coach rugby, publish extensively, and get a PhD but none of those accomplishments and none of my failures will ever count for more than the meaning in the moments that made them. 

I pray that all may know the meaning of their moments and grow from every one of them into a love of life and a passion for sharing that wonder. Amen.

Powerlessness of Love

“There can be no deep disappointment where there is not deep love.” - Martin Luther King, Jr.

I keep finding myself needing to write but unable to put words to page unless it is for something I have to do like a recent grant proposal. As badly as I need the outlet personally and professionally I just can’t seem to make myself do it.  I ask myself why.  A lot of it is because of the emotional strain I’ve been under due some touchy matters (don’t worry, my wife and child are just fine). I feel hamstrung to talk about what is really bothering me because it would either violate someone else’s confidentiality or draw attention to someone that is already deeply vulnerable.  This runs contrary to the lesson I learned years and years ago which is secrets and silence will kill me.  So, I’ve been managing as well as I can in the midst of this silence where I’ve been cut off from my primary supports.

It’s not been pretty but by and large I’ve done pretty well. I’m still experiencing the longest sustained period of my adult life of not being depressed (Yea!!!). This is saying a lot because I’ve weathered some pretty significant strains in the last few years, among them are my mother’s decline and death and a vocational rejection that still has me searching for direction. Nevertheless, I persist… and I’m not just surviving, I’m actually thriving for the most part.

But this damn silence is about to kill me. Talking to my wife and therapist just isn’t enough to save my soul from the darkness that secrets and isolation breed. All this is climaxing in a way that something has got to give soon.  I’ve been going downhill for the past month or so and I need that to stop NOW. 

Maybe the answer is to focus on my particular struggles within all of this. As I consider that angle, I see where a primary agony for me is my feeling of powerlessness to help someone I love not hurt more or outright self-destruct.  Powerlessness is a difficult experience no matter how self-aware one is.

I am powerless to fix the situation and I have to be careful how much responsibility I take for helping because of some very complicated risks. Those two factors collide in ways that leave me feeling agitated and downright angry… well, really I feel fear and sorrow but for now they are manifesting as anger.

As I’ve looked for outlets and understanding I’ve remembered that the Psalmist knew much about powerlessness and for now I find comfort in those cries. I look to the One who knows all of us because we are fearfully and wonderfully made… so beautiful and so precious that it evokes our deepest fears and our most profound awe.

May this journey through powerlessness lead me to a deeper understanding of all who love and need love’s healing. 

Further Travels Along the Way

In June of 2010 I began working as the regular supply pastor at a Presbyterian church (PCUSA affiliated) in Northwest Indiana.  At the time, it seemed like somewhat of a cruel irony since I had left the PCUSA to become UCC after meeting and marrying my wife which put me at odds with PCUSA polity.  Nevertheless, this church seemed like the place God was directing me so I tried to stay open to where my faith journey and calling was leading. 

Among my first hurdles were those of ethics and transparency.  I am gay and my wife and daughter would likely come with me to church.  The exiting interim minister had known me for years and knew about my sexuality but I didn’t think she outted me to the church.  So, I had to make a decision.

How was I going to answer the questions?  Would I just go ahead and come out?  What was the right thing to do so that I had integrity while not opening my family to undue scrutiny?  Furthermore, I didn’t want to bring to the church additional turmoil in the midst of a time that was already fragile.

Very quickly I decided to answer any questions from congregants honestly but not bring up the fact that I’m gay.  I advised my family to do the same.  All the same, we did not necessarily go about drawing attention to ourselves in that way.  My reasoning for this choice was three fold.  First, I personally have borne much pain as some of my Christian sisters and brothers have hurled stones of hatred and fear at me over the years.  It’s been a tough journey that I still weep over from time to time.  Second, as a family, we did not have a need to be supported in that faith community so our transparency was not necessary for our well-being.  Likewise, we did not need the pain that would come with a negative outcome.  Third, and most importantly, I believed my time with them would be short and deemed the painful transitions of the church and the existing sorrow of its members to be more important to address than introducing an additional issue that would only serve to distract them from what they actually needed.  They had already been though too much to have someone “dump” an extra issue on them.  They deserved to grieve and grow through their existing difficulties before dealing with one more thing. 

With all that in mind I moved forward and what I thought was going to be a “few preaching gigs” turned into more and ultimately lasted 20 months before they called a full time pastor.

I didn’t realize it would happen but I quickly fell in love with the people at that church.  I saw in them such love for one another and a deep faith.  They could not have endured the kind of pain they had without it.  You see, in the past 10 years they had lost a much beloved pastor and then had a series of short lived calls and interims that introduced various conflicts and near scandals (the reasons for this are so complicated I will not even dare deal with it in this writing because I can never do their experience justice).  In the face of all this strife, the church and its programs survived... they even thrived in some ways.  It was easy to for me to admire and even love them.

It seemed that they loved me too.  They liked my preaching style of balancing teaching with practical ways of living faithfully.  They appreciated my reluctance to make grand claims on behalf of God in favor of journeying together.  Most of all, they loved the way I loved them.  For a group of people who had felt rejected and shat upon, they just wanted so badly to know that it wasn’t their fault and that they were still loved by God... and a pastor.  I could give them that.

One of my early sermons at the church was entitled “Along the Way” and was based upon Psalm 107:1-9, 43.  In it I said, “this is a passage about life happening.  Life includes the joyous and the tragic and all that lies in between.  Not all these events happen because of God but God is in the midst of them and still with us after them.  Our job is to be open to God’s help.  Our job is to keep journeying.  Our job is to share in the journey with others around us.  And we do this with hope knowing God is with us all along the way.”

“Along the way” became a phrase that I would utter many many more times during my service at that church.  It became my mantra to them as I sought to illuminate God’s presence and work in their midst.  It also became a mantra to myself as I experienced a home and sense of calling like I had not previously had or expected.

In my time there, I never did out myself from the pulpit even though I uplifted the justices issues associated with gender and sexuality.  I kept my emphasis on what they needed most.  Even as my sexuality became known to many in the congregation, what people stayed focused upon was what we had in common as people of faith trying to find our way forward.  With all the talk in our culture about what is wrong with the church, let me tell you that what is right was the people of that church staying focused on loving one another and honoring faith. 

Don’t get me wrong.  It wasn’t always easy.  I know for a fact, my sexuality became a catalyst for heated discussion amongst the Pastor Nominating Committee.  Also, I had many conversations with congregants who were unaware of my sexuality as they made their opinions known about Presbyterian polity, theology, and sexuality.  They said things that were insensitive and at times even hateful.  Yet, my response was always to broaden our understanding of love and keep us focused upon what God is doing and calling us to.

In the months since my time ended at that church, I’ve had time to reflect on what this journey meant and how it touched me in ways I never imagined.  I’ve come to believe even more in the mantra of God with us “along the way” because of the relationships that my family and I have formed with the people of that church.  Our lives are forever changed and better because of them.  Furthermore, the church’s constant affirmation of God’s gifts in me and my time with them served to heal old wounds that I thought would always be festering.  Honestly, I rarely know where God is leading me but I can say without a shadow of a doubt that God has been, is, and will be with us all along the way.  Amen.

Rant of Sorrow

Pastors advocating concentration camps, liberals spewing hatred at conservatives, and at the heart of it all there are millions everyday folks suffering. Who are we? This is not Christianity! If we Christians can’t figure out how to be together, then we have no witness for the world. When people who serve the same Christ can’t stomach sitting at the same table together, there is a bigger problem than our theology. Our souls are at risk. God have mercy on us.

Have we stopped to take account of how much money, donated by everyday faithful people, gets sucked up in Christians trying to fight one another on flashpoint issues like homosexuality? I’m not saying that it shouldn’t be addressed. I’m just saying that if we took that money and tried to work together then the fight might dissolve into appreciation for one another’s faith.

Onward In Faith

Advent 1B - Sermon based upon Psalm 42 & Matthew 1:18-2:12

Good morning and welcome to Advent.  This is a season of expectancy and preparation. A season of joy, hope, and promise.  And given the themes of our advent devotional and sermon series, it is also a season of faith, peace, new life, and love.

You’re going to notice a pattern in the coming weeks that lead us all the way through Christmas.  Each week’s theme that goes with the devotional is going to be lifted up in worship in multiple ways.  The devotional theme is The True Gifts of Christmas: The Journey to Bethlehem. The music, prayers, liturgy, and even scriptures will go along with the weekly theme.  Each week we'll have a Psalm that captures the emotional experience of the theme and a Gospel passage that tells the story.

But for now, we’re here on the first week of Advent.  We enter with the theme of faith and the story told in Matthew about Jesus's conception and birth.  If ever there was a story of faith in God, this is it.

Here we have a young unmarried woman who finds out she's going to have a very special baby.  The scripture tells us that her fience doesn't want to disgrace her but he's still going to “quietly dismiss her.”  After transformative encounters, they both believe in God’s will for this child move forward to have the baby. 

From the Luke story of Jesus’ birth we also know that they had to make a journey to Bethlehem for census and taxation.  That must have been horrible.  Can you imagine setting out on a donkey, a man and a 9 month pregnant woman, in a time when life was so much more treacherous than it is now?

And even after Jesus is born, King Herod sends spies so that he can plot against the young Messiah, Emmanuel, God with us.  But they too had a transformative experience rooted in joy and did the right thing to protect this child.

And our Psalm this morning is also a true story of faith.  It is about the fear and anxiety we experience when we can’t quite feel God’s closeness to us.  We want to lash out as the Psalmist does with “Why have you forgotten me?  Why must I walk about mournfully because the enemy oppresses me?”  But just as with Mary and Joseph, the Psalmist remembers “hope in God.”
These are some pretty powerful scriptures if we pause to let them capture our feelings and imagination.  So, what do they have to tell us on this first Sunday of Advent?

Well, I think one of the messages is that just because we’re journeying faithfully doesn’t mean that it’s smooth sailing.  It’s often an anxiety and fear filled path.  Even Joseph was going to leave Mary because he couldn’t understand how God’s plan for Mary included him and I imagine he felt a lot of social pressure as well.

How often are our lives like that?  Maybe it’s that we know what the right thing is to do but we feel the pressure and embarrassment of what others are saying around us.  Or sometimes it’s that we are not sure how we fit into God’s plan.  Or sometimes it’s more a feeling like the Psalmist had of wondering where God is in all this and how to remain faithful while it feels so dark.  When faced with loss, uncertainty, and other things that raise our fear level, our lives, just like Mary and Joseph’s are filled with moments that make our faithful walk forward feel more like a burdensome trudge. 

Whether it’s the journey of the PNC in search of a pastor or the daily work it takes to make relationships last, we are ALL journeying… and sometimes it’s a tough one.  But here’s where the story turns. 

God reassures Joseph of his part in all this.  Then God protects Jesus from Herod.  God even touches the wise men and they go on a different path.  Hope and joy healed them from their worries, doubt, and uncertainty.  In the case of the wise men, quite literally, the story tells us that they were overwhelmed by joy. 

I think this is the real heart of our scripture lesson for today.  We worry and struggle in uncertainty quite often. And it becomes a cycle that just gets worse if left to our own devices.  The more we worry, the more we drag ourselves down.  The more we drag ourselves down, the more we fret about digging back out of the hole of fear, grief, and depression.  The more we fret about those things, the more ashamed we feel.  And the more ashamed we feel… well, that’s just a terrible spiral downward. 

But God’s support and love for us is never wrapped up in fear or shame or overly burdensome toil.  God reaches out to us with hope and joy offering us help to put one foot in front of the other and continue our faithful journey.  That support comes in all kinds of forms.  In the case of Joseph, it came in the form of messenger from God and I imagine it also came in the form of support from people around him and most especially from Mary.  For the wise men, they found support from God to do the right thing through an intense sense of joy at the witness of a phenomenon in nature right before meeting Jesus.  And while most of us don’t have an experience of meeting and angel, I know that all of us have met messengers from God or had experiences that coincided with special event that invigorated our faith. 

See, this is what faith is about, whether it’s during the season of Advent or any other time.  We are on a journey and each and every day is another opportunity to keep moving forward toward the hope and promise of God while being open to the nurturing support God gives us.

Now, I’m not trying to make this sound easy.  I’ll give you a deeply personal example.  All my life, even as a little child, I’ve struggled with depression.  It seems to be genetic because most of my family struggles with it.  Depression has gripped me in ways that I’ve often felt forgotten by God.  The way depression chokes off the light is painful.  And after feeling the emptiness and darkness months on end, I’ve even thought that it wasn’t that God had forgotten me.  I’ve felt that God must be punishing or cursing me.  Now logically, I know that isn’t the case.  But depression is an illness that tells us lies about ourselves, others, and God.

Having struggled with this illness for most of my 37 years, I can tell you quite a few things about finding God in the darkness and what faith looks like when you barely have the energy to get out of bed.  But I can also tell you that faith cannot be stifled or destroyed by darkness, fear, worry, doubt, and uncertainty. 

Just like Mary and Joseph, I have found God’s support every step of the way.  Just when I thought I couldn’t bear the isolation any longer, God has sent messengers that reminded me who and who’s I am.  God has placed people in my life to help me when I couldn’t help myself.  When I needed a jolt to point me in the right direction, God has shown me great joy through phenomenon in nature.  God has called me forward in love all along the way. 

God’s nurturing love and my faith in that love have helped me journey forward every step of the way.  In fact, you’ve even been part of God’s work in my life.  As you know, I’m a chaplain and I work night shift at Children’s Memorial Hospital.  Working night shift is more than a choice.  It’s a metaphor for my experience with God.  Because I’ve had to work so hard to find God in the long nights of depression, I want to be part of God’s light to others in the night.  I never thought I’d work in a church because I thought my place was in the darkness.

But being here with you has shown me that God calls me into the light as well.  The way you’ve encouraged me and the relationships I’ve built here have shown me new paths in my own faith journey.  My faithful journey is not only that of holding people in the night but also that of proclaiming God’s radiance in the light and you’ve been the ones who’ve helped cultivate that in me and show me God’s way for which I’ll always be grateful.

Now I didn’t tell you all that to spew out my own story.  I told you about my journey because I believe it speaks to the struggles we’ve all had.  Advent, holidays, faith, journeys, family, church… all of these things are precious but they also stir in us anxiety and fear about the unknown.  But God is with us, each and every one of us.  God is speaking and leading and calling us every step of the way.

Sisters and brothers, as we move forward in Advent, may we have faith that God is alive and well in all areas of our lives.  Even when it feels scary or burdensome, God is with us, offering us support wrapped in love rather than fear.  Our job is to keep putting one foot in front of the other on this journey taking the next step in faith and being open to all the ways God is supporting us.  Emmanuel, God with us… We welcome you!  Amen

Reformed & Always Reforming

Ordinary 31A – sermon based upon Micah 3:5-12 and Matthew 23:1-12

Good morning.  It is good to be with you today.  I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.  It’s hard not to. You’ve become so dear to me that you stay close to my heart.  And I note that for two reasons.  One: I believe we should all know when we’ve been valued and loved and I love and value you.  And Two: It relates to the ultimate point of today’s sermon.  That if we are living the love of God, then meaningful relationships, God inspired changes, and love-filled growth become a way of life.

Now you may be asking how I got that conclusion from two biblical passages about leaders who abuse their power.  Well, let’s start down the trail and I promise that’s where we end.
See, today is Reformation Sunday and that’s a kind of interesting day in the church because we get to remember the past, honor change, and look to see how we’re doing today.  A quick history lesson is that around the 16th and 17th centuries the church leadership, at the time primarily Roman Catholic, had become overrun with leaders who were everything that today’s scripture in Micah and Mathew say not to be. 

They waged war against the most oppressed.  They took bribes and acted with great injustice with their power, land, and money.  They told people to follow God’s law but did as they pleased.  They put heavy burdens and cast harsh judgment upon people, displaying no concept of mercy and compassion.  They did religious activities for the purpose of being seen and honored personally.  To say that many in religious power were corrupt would be an understatement.

For example, the church would rent out its farm land at unfair prices, control what could be grown, and take more than a fair share while leaving the families that worked the farm starving.  And what’s worse, some priests would then tell families that their loved ones were spiritually condemned to hell for not giving even more to the church.  For sure the church has always had people who abused power but this was just a horrible time in the history of religion! 

So, an uprising of faithful people began and they started in separate places and pockets of just a few.  But as the movement grew and communities caught wind of the change the Spirit was blowing in and around Europe, this movement grew into what we call the Protestant Reformation.

The Protestant Reformation brought with it some key changes and some key ideas.  Part of is was a call to return to what today’s scripture says about not being in leadership roles over and above one another.  We are to be in servant roles with each other. I mean that when the bible says don’t be called a Rabbi it doesn’t mean that we are not to have specialized callings.  But it does for sure mean that no calling stands over another.  Those religious leaders that had taken advantage of others would have and could have never done that if they started from a place of knowing that they are but mere servants in the broader, more beautiful body of Christ.

Another idea of the reformation was to recognize that God’s work is alive and well and still being revealed to us.  Just as Micah proclaims that he has power and Spirit and justice and might because he possessed a living faith, we too are called to live with the movement and reflect the ongoing revelation of God in the world.

John Calvin believed that the we must have the presence of the Holy Spirit in order to approach the biblical Word of God because it is with the help of the Spirit that the Word becomes alive in our hearts and lives.  He also reminds us that Jesus Christ is the Word of God and that we live and move and thrive in this ever morphing body… full of truth in this moment and always revealing more.

From Luther and Calvin and others, some important pieces of doctrine immerged that reflected this call back to a more genuine faith.  If it is that we are servants together and that God is working in and amongst us then we must be both redeemed and still being further redeemed, meaning that God’s work is both sufficient in us and that we are called to be more.

Similarly, the near mantra of the Reformation emerged.  In Latin it was said, “Ecclesia semper reformanda est” (Latin for "the church must always be reforming") or semper reformanda, "always reforming.”  It’s not enough that we as individual people of faith grow and change.  The church, both as an institution and as a body of believers, must grow and change.  Complacency and denial of the Spirit’s guiding presence is what had brought the church to the problems it was having at the time.

So here was this uprising and it was at times violent, at times spirit filled debate, and at times exciting renewal.  It was not just about ideas and doctrine.  It was about the lived life of faith.  And while we know that the Protestant Church rose out of this movement, we should also recognize that several other meaningful changes happened in other groups of Christians as well.  The Catholic church did get the message and made some changes.  The Anabaptists, Anglicans, Puritans, and others rose out of the movement.  What could defiantly be said is that this was a time where people were in tune with the call of the Holy Spirit to not be complacent and to be open to where God led them.

So when I look back at that time, I find myself asking what was really going on in people’s lives.  What did the average day in a Christian’s life look like?  And this is where I come to the conclusion that I shared with you earlier. 

See, everyday people were building churches… not necessarily grand cathedrals but just modest churches.  They were connecting with people they would have never come in contact with before.  The walls between pastor and congregation were redefined with servant leadership in mind.  People were reading the bible in their own language for the first time in their lives.  It was amazing!

What were my words earlier?  I said that if we are living the love of God, then meaningful relationships, God inspired changes, and love-filled growth become a way of life.  And that’s what that time looked like in the everyday lives of people.  And it’s’ also the history of the reformation and of the Presbyterian Church.  When we think we’ve got it all figured out, the Holy Spirit comes and reminds us that we are called to deeper relationships, other forms of faithful witness, and growth that reflects that love of God.  We are reformed and always reforming.  Both sanctified through God’s grace and always becoming more in the life of God’s ongoing revelation.

Do you like history?  I do.  And I’m especially fond of that history.  It’s the story of us.  And I don’t just mean this church.  I mean it’s the story of our lives.  If we are complacent and don’t listen to the leading of the Holy Spirit we fall into corrupt decay. 

Look at the global economic crisis of today.  How did that happen?  Well, it was too many political and financial leaders were abusing their power and acting unjustly.  Meanwhile, everyday folks extended unearned trust and didn’t question what was going on.  And just like Micah said, it laid to waste our land… or economy in this case.

But this isn’t just paralleled in global issues.  The Reformation is also mirrored in our private lives.  Sometimes we think we are content with our lives.  We don’t want to change.  Yes, there are some things going on like an old hurt or perhaps a relationship that is causing pain but we’d rather ignore it than do something about it.  And over time, it erodes and damages our self and ability to love even more.

You see, the Christian life is one that demands that we honor the holiness of God’s gifts in the present but also live in openness to the Spirit and where it is leading.  Reformed and always reforming.  The global economic crisis would have never happened if people had been living, as I suggested before, the love of God whereby meaningful relationships, God inspired changes, and love-filled growth become a way of life.  And the decay and crumble of our lives would not happen either if we were living this way.

Now, a word of caution… this is a “we” thing.  I’m not saying that if someone has struggles that it is their fault for not being faithful enough.  Just as Micah and Matthew both reinforced, we are in community, bound together.  My struggles represent my difficulties but my struggles equally represent the failure on the part of others to respond and support me in healing relationships.

For example, the person mired in grief or bound by a history of abuse defiantly has a responsibility to reach toward and receive the love and healing of God.  But we each also have a responsibility to reach back to them and do the same whereby meaningful relationships, God inspired changes, and love-filled growth are reflected in our way of life. 

And this is where we find ourselves today.  Economically, we are in a very anxiety and fear filled time.  The church, both locally and universally, is also having painful struggles that represent the push and pull between being reformed and continuing our work of reforming.  Our lives are places where injustice, pain, complacency, and fear gain too much power over us and abuse us.  It would be easy to feel like this is a pretty dark place.

But there is another motto of the Reformation that applies here.  In Latin it is “Post Tenebras Lux” which translated is “After darkness, light.”  At the dawn of the Reformation, people were nearly hopeless.  They were being crushed by the decay.  But light does come and God is always near.  History would tell us this was the end of the dark ages and beginning of the Reformation.  But we know it was simply being open to the Holy Spirit once again, just like Micah and Matthew call us to today.

Sisters and brothers, our calling is to embrace the love of God and the Holy in the present… to be reformed.  Our calling is also to let that love hold and open us to the Spirit who guides us into ever more meaningful relationships, God inspired changes, and love-filled growth that becomes a way of life… to be always reforming.  We need not fear this path because we are God’s and we are One in the Body of Christ.  Amen.

A Brief Encounter

Ordinary 22A – A sermon based upon Exodus 3:1-15

Good morning.  It is a true blessing to be back with you and I’ll be here for the next few weeks.  I’ve missed you but you’ve remained in my prayers.  And you’re never far from my heart, either.

Well, today’s scripture from Exodus is another one of those treasure troves of God’s wisdom.  I have chewed on it all week and kept hearing more revelation from God even though I knew I needed to narrow the focus.  So who knows, maybe I’ll preach this text again in a few weeks with a different focus.  But for now, we’ve got enough to chew on.

It’s that amazing story of Moses and the burning bush.  Moses was on his way to work and worried that he would be late but he turned to see what was happening up the hillside.  What was this fire that burned but did not consume the bush?  It turns out it was a message from God and a calling to do something remarkable.  God had heard the cry of the Israelites and wanted Moses to help in the work of spreading God’s liberation and justice.  Moses insisted that he would be too afraid to do this task.  He protested and told of reasons he could not do it but God’s call was still the same.   He wanted to know how this could be done.  And you know what?  God was not explicit on how this would happen even when asked.  God never offered a detailed roadmap of how to overthrow an empire.  But God’s promise to be with Moses through it all was loud and clear.

It’s a great story isn’t it?  It has all these amazing ways of thinking about it.  For example, we could ask what can we learn about God through this story.  What about what we can learn about Moses or human nature?  We could even ask about what we can learn about the life of people 3500 years ago.  But for this day, I think we might be well served by asking what we can learn about our lives today through this story.

What is it that we need to know so that we to can experience a life changing moment with God?  For Moses, this was just a brief encounter but it definitely changed the whole direction of his life.  So what are a few of the take-a-ways for our lives?

Well, for today, we’re going to focus in on three… how very three point sermon of me.  First, there are all kinds of burning bushes.  Second, we just might be missing some burning bushes around us already.  And third, following God’s call on our lives is not about having all the answers or always being fearless.

First, are there all kinds of burning bushes?  I know we read the stories of the bible and often wonder why doesn’t God light up a bush and talk to us sometime?  It would be much easier to have faith if God just spoke more loudly and clearly.  But even though we might like a burning bush or at least a nice email from God, God has already filled our lives with life changing messages that came in all kinds of forms.

For those of you who have felt the call to be involved in some sort of ministry or cause, how did you know that was the right thing to do?  Or when you were looking for a church home, how did you know this was the one?  And when you were struggling to find meaning, direction, or vocation, what led you down the path the fulfillment? 

See, I doubt it was a burning bush.  The answers to any one of those questions are going to be so varied among us.  It could have been a series of seemingly unrelated events that collided that made you see a certain direction… providence, if you will.  It might have been a still small voice that kept whispering the same thing to you over and over.  Perhaps it was a large event that happened long ago that changed you in a way that has altered your decision making ever since.  Regardless of what it looked like, if it was the right decision, it was God. 

God speaks to us in all kinds of ways.  God used Moses to speak to the Israelites and encourage them to believe that they would not always have to suffer.  God used passersby to tend to the wounds of an injured person.  God speaks through moments and whispers and people and God speaks to us in this time and place. 

It may not be a burning bush but unlocked, this bible has set lives on fire.  Social time between services may consume more donuts than a non-consuming flame but lives are transformed and the face of God is seen.  Vacation bible school, reaching out to one another as neighbors, community events, meals with loved ones, and ALL the countless ways we “hear” and “are” God’s voice in the world… oh yes, there are all kinds of burning bushes in our lives that set us on a path and guide us all the way.


Second, are there already burning bushes around us that we may have missed?  Well, let’s see.  There is a tale told by rabbis about why the bush was burning but not consumed.  I mean, for the purposes of delivering a message, does it really matter if the bush is left in ashes or not?  Well, as the story goes, the rabbis argued about this until one of them said, “The bush was burning but not consumed so that one day when Moses passed by he would finally notice it!”

If we re-read this passage, stopping to think that Moses might have missed it before, suddenly some of the language makes sense.  God put out this sign waiting for Moses to turn away from what he was doing long enough to notice it.  So, this bush needed to not be burned up by the flame.  It needed to last.

Now, whether or not the bush had been burning for years or just that afternoon doesn’t really matter. The point is that God did not put it right in front of Moses but rather it was off to the side and took some intentionality on Moses’ part to go to it.  The scripture says he had to turn aside from what he was doing to go over to the bush.

So, coming back to the idea that there are already burning bushes in our midst, how often are our lives like this? (walk past communion table in a hurry) Or this? (walk past communion table reading) Or this? (walk past communion table meandering) Or this? (walk past communion table on phone) Or this? (walk past communion table with a hurt back) Or this? (walk past communion table laughing) (Turn and finally notice the communion table)

The joys, the tears, and everything in between are always going on in our lives.  How often do we walk past the same thing and then finally one day see it?  I venture to guess, quite a bit.  And God knows that too.  Sometimes we probably do miss out on a message.  But for the big stuff, God keeps a bush lit for us.  That bush may have to be moved from place to place or time to time to keep up with us but it stays lit.

What do I mean by this?  Well, what would happen if we all took a bit to talk about the direction of this church?  I bet that conversation would end with some pretty amazing ideas about invigorating existing relationships or maybe starting new ministries.  It’s not that these are new ideas.  It’s just that we didn’t stop to notice them before now.

It only takes pausing for a bit and being willing to see something new or different to realize that God has set fire to a bush near each of us.  Maybe the message we’ve been missing is that of embracing something we weren’t sure we could handle.  It could be a message to forgive someone.  It might even be a calling to do something entirely different in our lives.  But the point is that when we are intentional to pause, look, and change course even a little, we always find a place God is speaking to us that we didn’t recognize before. 


So, to the final point, following God’s call on our lives is not about having all the answers or always being fearless.  If we know anything about Moses’ story, we know that he was plagued by repeated doubts, fears, and was nearly always asking God to “Prove it.”  And repeatedly God addressed the doubts, fears, and pleas to prove it with the reply “I will be with you.”

God’s greatest gift to Moses and to us is that we are never alone.  We are going to have fears and we are most definitely going to have doubts.  We are even going to be dissatisfied with the unclear plan we have in front of us and ask God to show us more of the road map.  But God’s constant answer is “I am with you.”  And then in due time, more is revealed.

So what does that mean in practical terms for us?  We need to keep our focus on what God has called us to do today and not let our anxiety and fear about the how all this is going to work out distract us.  And how does that happen?  We keep living as the body of Christ, watching and responding to burning bushes as they appear. 

Consider what the Pastor Nominating Committee does.  They join together seeking the voice of God each week.  Now I am positive they might prefer an obvious burning bush but the fact of the matter is that their ongoing relationship with one another makes them more and more aware of God’s presence and work in this place.  Their work is hard and produces a lot of fear and anxiety. I bet every one of them worry “what if we get it wrong?”  Have they missed a few burning bushes?  In this case, I doubt it.  But I am absolutely sure that God is with them.  They need only keep on the path before them until a new burning bush illuminates God’s way.  And we need to support them by offering encouragement and reminding them that God’s guidance will be present in this church, no matter what.

But the practical part of knowing God is with us even though we fear doesn’t end there.  When John Karins died last month, the presence of God was felt by his family because this congregation responded with love and support.  When the church needs juice boxes for vacation bible school, we bring them in.  When a hurricane strikes the east coast, we donate to the Red Cross.  When there is a new birth in our midst, we celebrate with one another. 

All of these things we do as the body of Christ, Emmanuel… God with us, are a constant reminder that we are not alone.  Our fears will find comfort in God and one another.  The path we should take will be made known if we hold together as a body.  Even the future of this church, it’s members, and it’s leadership are secure in the workings of God.  Our job is to keep moving forward as a body and being ever watchful for that next burning bush.  Amen.

Fearlessness

Ordinary 16A – Sermon based upon Isaiah 44:1-8

Good morning. Today’s scriptures from Isaiah and Romans are an interesting complement to one another. On the one hand, we have God speaking in Isaiah about being the One true God so there is no need to fear. The core of those verses are 6-8 which read, “Thus says the Lord, the King of Israel, and his Redeemer, the Lord of hosts: ‘I'm first, I'm last, and everything in between. I'm the only God there is. Who compares with me? Speak up. See if you measure up. From the beginning, who else has always announced what's coming? So what is coming next? Anybody want to venture a try? Don't be afraid, and don't worry: Haven't I always kept you informed, told you what was going on? You're my eyewitnesses: Have you ever come across a God, a real God, other than me? There's no Rock like me.’”

From the reverse perspective, we have Paul in Romans telling us to not fear because God’s resurrection and release from bondage live boldly within us. The core of those verses, 15-16, read, “This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It's adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike ‘What's next, Papa?’ God's Spirit touches our spirits and confirms who we really are. We know who he is, and we know who we are: Father and children.”

So we have this message to live without fear and to live boldly at that. But is that how we experience our lives? Is it possible to be fearless? Are there things we should fear? Does the repeated counsel of the bible to “fear not” mean that fear is bad? Well, we can’t possibly begin to unravel those questions during this time, but I think God has a message for us nonetheless.

First of all, we do fear, whether or not we want to. There are all kinds of biblical stories of fear and the way that fear either did them in or helped them out. We still have the same stories today. In my job as a chaplain, I meet families who receive unspeakable news of their child’s illness and an uncertain future. There is no way for them in that moment to not feel fear because in that moment, they are keenly aware of all they can’t control and the depth of what they could lose. And what about when we are at risk of losing or actually lose our job? Fear is a natural response that reinforces our understanding of how vulnerable we are. And when we are walking down a stretch of street that is dark and unfamiliar, can we get rid of that fear that wells up in us? No, we cannot. That fear heightens our ability to engage our most primal instincts by becoming ultra-aware of our surroundings and also the resources within and around us that we may tap into should something dangerous happen.

So I would never stand here and say that fear is a bad thing nor do I think God is saying such a thing. Fear can be a true gift that brings out the very best in us by reminding us what is important to us and connecting us to resources that we wouldn’t have recognized before. So maybe that is the point. Fear is a response that God pretty much hardwired into us for our own good. But the trick is to take that moment of fear and move forward with new hope rather than being mired in it.

See, I think these passages are about just that. Of course we are going to fear otherwise God, Jesus, and so many prophets and disciples would not have addressed it. Just as the examples from earlier speak to how fear can help us, fear can also hurt us if we are in bondage to it. Just this week, I met a patient’s mom who was so locked up by the fear of what might happen that it kept her from experiencing all the love around her and the child. That love could have been so healing for all of them. Or what about when someone loses their job or is walking down that dark road and becomes too paralyzed by fear to make any decision? They become a victim of their circumstances rather than empowered by the learning fear gave them and the hope of such strength. But what do we do to keep from getting mired in it and becoming a slave to fear?

Well, I think we all know from experience that letting go of fear is easier said than done. So what do we do? I think this is a place where scripture has much to offer us. These passages tell us something that we can keep with us to help us move from fear to fear-usefullness and maybe even fearlessness.

The Isaiah passage reassures us that God is true and with us so we are never alone no matter what happens or is to come. Romans tells us that when we keep our focus on what is Holy by listening to that inner calling, we will always find meaning and direction. Both of these passages tell us that fear need not bind us if we receive the reassurance found in scripture and live by it’s guidance.

But still, this is easier said than done. So, I want us to pause for a few minutes and think in some really practical ways about how we already do use this guidance and how we might use it better and more fully to let go of the fears that bind us.

First, what ways to we use trust in God and focus on the Holy to help us move past fear? Well, prayer is a common one. Prayer is a ritual that creates comfort because we believe in its power or find it familiar. Another way we let go of fear is by seeking the refuge of our holy community. Fear also often dissolves when we engage in actions which we know will produce goodness and love. By working for love, we forget the fear and feel stronger. What else works? Reading scripture or other texts that cultivate the Holy, opening ourselves to the body of Christ as it reaches out to us, immersing ourselves in creation whether it is a sunset or our families… all these things are practical ways we seek to let go of fear and move forward with hope.

What ways might we adopt that we aren’t already doing to help us shed the chains of fear? Maybe it’s watching out for others who are struggling and reaching out to them. We’ve mentioned rituals that are familiar but perhaps sometimes letting go of an old fear is about trying something new. What might that be in each of our lives? What if letting go of a fear is about redoubling our efforts? Maybe it’s a matter of focus. Could it be about listening to the yearnings God implanted in us as Romans suggests? The important thing is that we find what will help us take the fear that wells up in us, use what it has to teach us, and move forward without being caught in its bondage.

Now, what fears bind us? Think about what specific fears make your chest tighten and pulse rise when you think of them? Most of us have many fears but for now, let’s just trust that what comes to each of us is what God wants us to look at in this moment. Some of us are afraid of losing people close to us. For others it is being left. Still others of us fear being out of control while some of us fear pain and suffering. No matter what is coming to our minds, God wants us to find a way from fear to hope.

So, how can we use God’s calling and find release from these fears? Where is our comfort? What steps do we need to take to find release and healing from the things that bind us now and the fears that will come along later? It’s hard work and takes intentionality on our part. How will we find stamina to do this? Our desire alone for release and healing from fear just isn’t enough. What steps will we take to live the life of expectancy and hope that God is calling us to?

Sisters and brothers, these few minutes of looking at our fears and our resources are just a beginning and we can’t begin to answer these questions but the questions are worthy and need to be challenged. Nevertheless, one thing is for certain. The bible would not address fear so frequently if God didn’t know we would need extra support to find a path through it.

But we are not helpless. We have the body of Christ to help us along the way, God’s Spirit with us to give us stamina and hope, and God’s promises to guide and hold us along the way. May God guide our path, heal our wounds, and lead us in a more excellent way each and every day. Amen.

Peace for What?

Peace for What? <–- audio file of sermon. A sermon based upon John 20:19-31

Good morning. First off, let me go ahead and acknowledge that you might have noticed something different about me today. Is it new glasses? No. Perhaps a new outfit? No. The answer is I shaved my head 2 days ago at a charity event raising money for and awareness of childhood cancers. Some of you know that I do this every year and it’s always a wonderful event. Actually, the child we honored at the event was in the hospital and unable to attend. But like I said, it was still a wonderful occasion and such a great cause.

And just so you know, it is okay to ask me questions about it. It is okay to stare. And if you ask, I’ll even let you rub my head. But when you look at my head, please remember all those who struggle with cancer and need our support and then say a prayer for them.

Okay, now back to the task at hand. What do we make of these disciples and of good ole doubting Thomas? This is a story that a week and a half ago, I was going to preach pretty much the same thing we usually do. I thought we were going to look at the struggle between intuition and fact and of the different ways of knowing. I thought we might focus on how Christ comes to us no matter what our needs are so we need not vilify Thomas for being slow to believe.

But then Sunday night our televisions, radios, Facebook pages, and text messages starting buzzing with news that the President would speak. Soon the word came out that Osama Bin Laden was dead. And from that point forward broke a frenzy of praise, sorrow, questions, debate, and doubt. And somewhere in all this, a few people paused to ask, “what should the Christian response be?”

What should the Christian response be to the death of a man who apparently has masterminded the deaths of thousands of innocent lives? What should the Christian response be to the death of a man who struck fear in the hearts of so many? What should the Christian response be to the death of a man who was also a husband, father, grandfather, brother, and someone’s child? What should the Christian response be to the death of a man who had become so consumed by hate and fear that he could not see the humanity in others?

Sisters and brothers, I’m not going down a road toward telling you what you should believe politically or think about Osama Bin Laden. But I am going down a road that points to what happens when we live behind locked doors.

Let’s take another look at this passage. The passage begins, “When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’”

See, when we think about this passage in time, Jesus had just been crucified and died. That very morning Mary and Mary had discovered the empty tomb. Jesus had appeared to some of them on the road and they were sharing the news. But the general feeling amongst all of them was fear. They were afraid for their lives and afraid for their futures. They closed themselves off and locked the door. But Christ comes through the barriers and says, “Peace be with you.”

Later in the passage, we have the same disciples only this time Thomas is also there and he has not believed that Jesus was truly resurrected. The passage reads, “A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.”

Here again we have the closed doors that are presumably locked. Even a week later, the disciples are hiding out rather than being out and about. And Jesus comes through the barriers to once again pronounce, “Peace be with you.”

So, what do we make of this? It would be easy to speed on past these verses and get to the story of Thomas’ disbelief. But I don’t think these verses are here by accident and I don’t think John went to the trouble of noting the closed doors if it weren’t an issue for us to learn from.

First of all I think we need to have grace and compassion in our hearts just as Christ did when we look at this story otherwise we get caught up in judgment. These people were scared. Jesus had been their companion and champion. They believed he was going to restore justice in the land. They hadn’t yet realized his justice would be of a more far reaching kind. So in their fear, they retreated to a home and hid out.

But Jesus came in and didn’t speak harsh words or judgment. He wanted them to be at ease and to release their fear. He greeted them with a wish and hope for peace in their lives. Christ wants them to not fear or to feel worse for their struggle. He wanted them to heal. His words were about understanding their experience and knowing that more than anything, they needed to let go of the fear and receive peace and the hope that springs from it.

This is truly an amazing model for our lives. It is an orientation toward people that begins with saying, “I want to know and understand you and your needs.” To have a starting place of grace and compassion in our hearts is a starting point of love rather than assessing, judging, categorizing, or any of the other countless ways we sum people up without first seeking to understand them and their experience.

When we are scared and either literally or metaphorically close ourselves off, what would it be like if someone who loves us came on in and spoke love and peace into our hearts, minds, and spirits? How would we react if that person looked at us with eyes of compassion that told us that our experiences and feelings are safe with them?

And looking outside of ourselves, what if we were the person who could be that voice of peace, love, and healing for the one who has walled themselves off? When we’re dealing with the person who lashes out at us, what if our starting place was that of looking into how someone got so overrun by fear rather than lashing back at them? What if our priority was to truly know and understand people and their experiences instead of quickly assessing what category they fit into?

Now coming back to where I started with the death of Bin Laden, I’m not saying that there isn’t a time to make people stand accountable for their crimes or that understanding why someone is fearful is an excuse for the way they may have hurt others. There is a time for that accountable justice. There is even a time and a place for those categories like liar, cheater, greedy, selfish, terrorist, and murderer. Those classifications can help us as a society understand who has been hurt and how to exact justice. But those categories should never be a substitute for seeking to know and understand one another. That’s just not what the Christian life is about.

The Christian life is found in our second point today. Christ’s peace and calling are to fling open the doors and live out in the world as agents of love and healing. Jesus said, “Peace be with you” not only as a way to still their anxious spirits but to clear the path to move beyond the fear and anxiety. Next, he breathed the Holy Spirit upon them and told them to go out and spread the Good News and extend the gift of the forgiveness of sins to all. Their job, their calling was to be out in the world. They had received the Spirit and the Spirit should not and cannot be contained behind closed doors.

So what does this mean to us? Well, more often than not, our fears come out in more subtle ways that are not directly damaging to others but cause harm we will never see. We wall ourselves off from certain “kinds” of people or places thereby cutting of relationship after relationship after relationship. We convince ourselves that our fears are actually wise judgments or well thought out beliefs so we don’t need to bother with this person or that group. We tell ourselves that “they” are sinners or liars or too uneducated to understand or too far beyond help. We convince ourselves that we need not worry about them because they don’t want our help anyway. We use words terms like “crazy liberal” and “snooty” to feel better about not looking at them as a whole person.

But maybe that’s just the problem. The message of Christ doesn’t start with figuring out what category someone fits in to or how to fix them. It starts with understanding. Instead of seeing “they” and “them” we need to see a person struggling or striving or searching and look more deeply into how that journey has shaped their life. When our starting point is that of trying to understand someone, the issue of helping will then naturally into place. And you know what else? We often find that we were helped in some way too.

Now, I’m not saying living the Christian life means to blindly walk up to a person who’s fear may have built to the point of violence. But I am saying that it means unlocking the doors of fear we’ve constructed for ourselves. It means gently challenging the fears of others by seeking to understand them and being open so that they can understand us. It means challenging our own fears by trusting in the peace of Christ to overcome all.

Does all this sound too big? Well, it starts here. The church is the proving grounds for how we’ll live in the world. We start with the people around us and let go of seeing the labels and the judgments and the walls that keep us from seeing the whole person.

With Christ’s peace, we can let go of seeing the person who snubbed us when we needed a friend or the person who complains instead of helping or the person who boasts instead of listening. And when we let go of the categories of judgment we might understand that we weren’t actually snubbed because the other person was deeply depressed at the time. And those complaints are just a mask for loneliness. And the boasting was just a mask for fear. If we can let the walls we have between us down long enough to understand one another, we’ll cultivate such a deep community we’ll have the strength to go out into the world and do this with others.

And we already do. Look at the Kairos ministry. That’s an amazing example of understanding that leads to healing. And I could stand here and name ministries and individual actions in this congrigation that over and over reflect the triumph of Christ’s peace and the healing of understanding. But today’s passage reminds us that there’s always more to be done.

The Christian response to Bid Laden’s death is not as simple as cheering or grieving. We must seek to be thoughtful and compassionate, appreciating justice yet seeking greater reconciliation. Christ’s call in the world always begins with peace that breaks down fear. That peace leads to understanding. And understanding leads to healing.

Sisters and brothers, whatever fears we are hiding behind or keep locked away, Christ breaks in past them and says, “Peace be with you.” As we leave here today, let us be bold to hear and receive that peace. Let us be brave to understand and be understood. Let us be trusting in Christ’s calling and be agents of healing and reconciliation in the world. Amen.

All That I’ve Seen

Sermon based upon Acts 17:22-31 <-- Audio file of sermon

Good morning and welcome to the first Sunday of Advent. This advent a few stars are going to tell you their story. Stars you say? Yes, stars… as in the twinkling lights in the night sky. Our advent devotional, “The Stars Tell The Story,” walks us through the this year’s journey to Christmas through the eyes of several stars.

This week Polaris will tell you about the birth of light and God’s faithfulness to creation. Next week, the fallen star of Lucifer will talk to you. And the following week another star will share with you about promises. That will then lead us to the guiding star of Bethlehem illuminated by the cantata on the 4th Sunday of Advent.

So without further ado, I present to you Polaris.

Hello, my name is Polaris but a lot of you know me as the North Star or even the handle of the little dipper. I must admit I was a little surprised to be invited to speak. People look at me and wish upon me because I burn so bright in your northern sky but they don’t usually care to hear what I have to say. So I thank you for inviting me because I’ve seen a lot and I especially love to share what I’ve seen of God.

You see, God is the reason I know anything. In the beginning, I was just a ball of dust in the darkness. I didn’t really even realize who I was or what I could be because all I knew was darkness. But then, just like your bible says, God whispered a word to me… a word so simple but it changed everything. God said “light.” It was as if life began at that moment… at least I know my life began at that moment. See, when God speaks to us, we are forever transformed.

This thing called light has been an ongoing gift from God since that day. Think about it. The story of God’s work in creation is referred to as conquering darkness so that life can spring forth. Whether it’s lighting a path forward or driving away evil or casting out secrets that fester in the darkness, light is a tool and gift of God and I’ve been truly blessed to be one of God’s faithful servants by sharing my light.

I’ve pointed the way for travelers, kept people company, and watched over them while they sleep. My work as one of God’s good creations has been very meaningful. But you know what the best part has been? Watching people like you.

The first people I watched were Adam and Eve. Did you know that they loved the nighttime? It’s true. They would sit together and tell each other stories as they gazed into the night sky. I liked watching them. I liked it because they were just so full of love. They loved each other. They loved God. They loved the gifts of God. Everything they did, was from love in its most pure form. Even when that serpent tricked them, they weren’t trying to act in an unloving way. They were manipulated into thinking that the fruit would make them grow wise because of the knowledge of good and evil. They didn’t realize that they could not really handle such wisdom. So sadly, the knowledge they gained only polluted their love.

Lots of folks like to point to that story as saying that we’re somehow bad or broken. I don’t know if that’s true. You know what I think? I think it’s just that we’re all limited. We’re limited in what we can see. We’re limited in what we can understand. We’re limited in time. Only God who is in all places, knows all creation intimately, and lives beyond the bounds of time can really use wisdom of good and evil correctly.

Let me tell you what I mean. Take me for example. I am limited in what I know of the earth because I’m always on one side of it. I’ve never seen most of Africa. I’ve never seen Chili or Argentina. And I’ve never seen Antarctica. To me, they might as well not exist. And they don’t know I exist either.

But I’ve seen folks that travel from that side of the earth. And I trust my star friend, Sirius when she tells me that they are beautiful places. But I’m so limited, that I don’t think I could make a good judgment or assess what God has done there or tell you what the people need there. I just don’t know enough.

People are the same way. Adam and Eve and all of humanity now carry the burden of knowing both good and evil. In many cases, you know what good and evil look like and often know how to handle them. But sometimes you know just enough to cause trouble because only God can use that power fully.

For example, look over there at Lavender. She seems nice enough. But when you try to use God’s wisdom of good and evil to judge her, things just get all messed up. Watch this… Did you know that she gave $5 to a homeless person last week? That seems good right? Well it was good for the homeless person but Lavender didn’t do it because of a loving desire to help. She did it because she felt her own shame and inability to truly look into the eyes of the other person. So, you tell me… she did something good but not from a loving motivation. How should she be judged? And let’s go back in time. Did you know that she used to steal things when she was a child? That sounds bad right? But what you don’t know is that her family was very poor and they were hungry. And she has worked hard to make amends for it ever since. So see, trying to use the knowledge of good and evil is complicated. We’re all just so limited. Only God knows enough to use it well.

And speaking of what God knows, I think our limitedness includes what we know about God too. That’s why I love the story of Paul seeing the Athenian shrine to the “god nobody knows.” At least the Athenians were humble enough to know that God might be bigger than what they knew. When I was watching God form the rest of creation, it was clear that we would all be looking at God from different sides, just like I look at the earth from a particular side. So, I encourage you to be careful when you speak of God. Speak boldly of what God has done in your life but speak humbly about what God’s will is for others. It’s just so hard to see what God is doing when you only see part of the story.

But take heart. I’m not actually here to make us feel small and remind us of our limitedness. To me, the real miracle isn’t that God can use this wisdom and the rest of creation can’t. The real miracle is that creation just keeps being beautiful and amazing in spite of our limitedness. Think about it. With all the things that could go wrong in creation, there’s far more that’s gone right. Accidents are rarely as bad as they could be. Wars are avoided at the last minute. Children are born into love every minute. Relationships are formed and make us more than we were. All this beauty is swirling around us and the only real explanation for why such a limited creation could make more beauty than destruction is that most of us are always being drawn to the light.

Since God’s first utterance of light, we seem to have this little voice inside of us that keeps us moving forward in search of more light, more beauty, more love… a fuller view of God. That’s the whole meaning of Advent. I’ve heard lots of folks talk about Advent as a time of waiting and expectancy. I guess that’s true. But the word Advent comes from the Latin word adventus meaning “coming.” Coming is a progressive verb… which means that it is currently happening and will continue to happen.

Now you don’t need some star giving you a grammar lesson but the point I want to make is that Advent, the coming, is a journey. Much like how creation is always moving toward the light, Advent is about our journey toward a light being born. We’re not waiting… we’re on our way.

You know what else I always like? Even as we’re drawn to the light of God, God is with and amongst us. Read your bible. Talk to your friends and neighbors. You can even talk to many of the people you might call enemies. What you’ll find from listening to their stories is that God never gives up on us and never leaves us. God didn’t give up on Adam and Eve after their mistake in the garden. Instead, God made it clear what the consequences were and helped them know how to prepare to live life differently. God didn’t abandon Paul as he took the gospel to new places. Instead, Paul found that God made provision for him through the ever growing & ever working body of Christ. And today, when we feel lost in the darkness, we are not abandoned by God. We need only be faithful and soon we’ll be able to see God working for our support and help during those times.

I’m always amazed at how God keeps reaching to us. It’s like watching that prodigal son come home over and over again. Trust me, I’ve been watching this go on for more time than humans have existed. Because you see, God is just so full of love and grace. God’s love keeps drawing us all toward God and to each other. And God’s grace keeps us seeking to find more light even when we’ve stumbled into darkness.

God loves us as we are and for who we are. God won’t ask the dandelion to stop being so fuzzy or the rose to not be so thorny. God loves and joins us in all our beauty, our defenses, our darkness, and our light. God knows that our rights and our wrongs have a story. They have a reason. God knows that we have deeply rooted fears. God also knows that we have a huge heart made for love. God knows every part of us. God knows all of creation and still reaches out to us every single time offering love, redemption, transformation, growth, nurture, and relationship. God loves us for who we are but knows that in the light, it is our beauty that will grow and flourish.

I’ve been watching you and will continue to watch you. You are a beautiful people. Trust in God’s presence and that calling from the dawn of creation to walk toward light. When you let God dispel the darkness, you’ll be amazed at just how beautiful you become. Amen.

The Pinhole by Lavender Kelley

A young one was lost, wandering in the dark.  Occasionally, she would bump into others who also roamed.  But, they did not realize she was lost.  They did not understand that they were lost as well.  A few of them believed they knew the path and took her with them.  She trusted them and went where they went.  However, with time, she always ended up alone and even more lost… a little more afraid than before with a few new injuries that told of her journey through the dark.

Once in a while, she thought she could see a distant pinhole in the dark through which light shown.  She tried to make the journey to look through the pinhole, but each time the great chasm of darkness, her painful injuries, and vexing fears made her lose sight of the light.  Sometimes she stopped when  she  met some who had been hurt badly.  She tried to help them.  But when she did, her own injuries got worse and the pinhole seemed even farther away.

Eventually, she came to see the pinhole less and less.  Sometimes she doubted there was any light at all.  She imagined that she was abandoned in the darkness as a way of punishing her.  She did not like the way thinking about that made her feel.  She liked to sit and imagine what wondrous things there were outside the darkness.  From time to time, that gave her hope but the hope would quickly vanish into the darkness.  Mostly, however, she just felt trapped, believing that she deserved the darkness and that she would never know anything more of the light than the image of the pinhole that eluded her.

One day, feeling desperate, she moved through the darkness as quickly as she could.  She called out names of those that might know of the light.  Someone heard her, but he did not know anything of the pinhole.  Wanting to help, that one called to another and then another.  In a matter of moments, she was passed through the darkness along a corridor and found herself with someone different than the others she had met.  Rather than tell her that she was lost and just needed to follow someone that “knows,” this one listened to her share her journey and the hope for peering through the pinhole.  After hearing this courageous account, this new one held her tightly.  She wept in the embrace.  This was not like the holding of the darkness that always felt cold and unwelcome.  This embrace was warm, inviting.  There was something very different about this feeling.  She knew that she was safe.  She knew that she was loved.  And then her eyes opened. 

She immediately understood that it had not been a pinhole in the distance that she had seen all this time.  Rather, it was the light around her trying to enter her eyelids.  At first she felt shame.  She cried out, “Why did I not just open my eyes?  I would not have all these gashes and bruises.  See, it is my fault!”

This one held her hand and said, “It is not your fault. No one held you tightly enough for you to know.  No one told you.  All you knew were the others with their eyes closed.”

Suddenly, she realized that this one was not just right in front of her.  This One was everywhere… even in her.  That pinhole had not only been the light trying to show her the way out of the darkness.  It had also been her light trying to illuminate the darkness for them all. 

She heard the One speak.  “You will still hurt, but you will also find true rest.  Rest, my little one.  Rest in the light and do not fear the dark.  We are One and never alone.”