The Funeral That Should Have Been

On January 29, 2014, my mother died at the age of 65 from advanced breast cancer. Her obituary, which I wrote, attempted to honor her extroverted spirit, love of music, and perseverant life. I wrote that obituary in spite of the fact that I had a mostly troubled relationship with my mom that included physical and emotional abuse when I was a child. I've spent years mending that damage and stitching together the patches I needed transform myself into a quilt that people find beautiful... and sometimes I do too.

But I'm not writing because of that. I’m writing because I've had a nagging discontent with her funeral. The minister she chose to perform her funeral was her pastor. He had known her for many years and he did justice to what was theologically important to her. Nevertheless, he missed an opportunity to offer a different vision of redemption, hope, and healing for a woman who was complicated to make sense of at best. This concern isn't as much for my sake or the others in attendance at her funeral but more so for my nephews who will someday want to understand who their grandmother was in a fuller way than to say that she believed in Jesus Christ. Albeit an important part of my mother’s identity, it doesn't begin to tell you her story or capture the meaning that lives on in her legacy.

I did speak briefly at Mom’s funeral and I offered a reflection that came to me the night she died. As I stood in her quiet house standing vigil over her body and waiting for the hospice nurse and mortician to arrive, I felt a Holy presence that spoke the following meaning to me and I shared it at her funeral. This is what I said that evening to the best of my recollection:

Good evening. Thank you for being here. Many of you know me but for those of you that don’t, I’m Lavender, Mom’s daughter that lives in Chicago. I’m a minister and chaplain there at a pediatric hospital. I was also educated as a Presbyterian pastor so that means two things: I can find symbolism in anything and see the trinity in everything. (pause for laughter) So, I’d like to share with you something that happened the night Mom died and the symbol that marked the occasion.

It goes without saying for anyone who has spent any time around Mom that her life was marked by resilience and patience rather than peace and good fortune, by perseverance and tenacity rather than comfort and rest. It’s in recognizing that long-suffering that I want to share a piece of scripture:

Revelation 7:9-17 - After this I looked, and there was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, robed in white, with palm branches in their hands. They cried out in a loud voice, saying, “Salvation belongs to our God who is seated on the throne, and to the Lamb!” And all the angels stood around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures, and they fell on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, singing, “Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen.” Then one of the elders addressed me, saying, “Who are these, robed in white, and where have they come from?” I said to him, “Sir, you are the one that knows.” Then he said to me, “These are they who have come out of the great ordeal; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. For this reason they are before the throne of God, and worship him day and night within his temple, and the one who is seated on the throne will shelter them. They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

I share this passage because if you remember Tuesday night when she died, it snowed. And it wasn’t a typical snow. It was that really fluffy beautiful snow that flocks everything and cloaks the earth in white. And as I stood next to her body and watched out the window, I just kept hearing in my heart, “Who are these, robed in white?” “These are they who have come out of the great ordeal; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.” Come out of the great ordeal… made white in the blood of the lamb.

It’s not a stretch to see this story and connect it to Mom's experience and need for deliverance and salvation. I stood there keenly aware of a new peace and release that Mom now has. Her life did not end in the suffering of cancer or any of the other circumstances that beat her down. It ended with release from pain and sorrow and draped in a robe of white victory.

Almost a year has passed since I offered those words at her funeral. They still ring true and begin to point to the story and meaning that is part of her living legacy. She endured a great deal of suffering, loss, sorrow, and heartache. Yet she sojourned on until the very end with remarkable style. Even after she was diagnosed as terminal, she managed to fall in love one last time with a very nice man and outlive her life expectancy because she wasn't finished visiting with her friends.

See, what has always stuck with me about Mom, regardless of all our past difficulties, is that the woman would not give up. She survived a car accident when she was 18 that left her partially paralyzed and neurologically impaired. Her ability to walk was a miracle of stubborn persistence in and of itself if you knew which muscles worked and which ones didn't. On top of that, the neurological impact would cause painful ripples through the rest of her life. The simplified version is that she was emotionally freeze framed in time, which explains her inability to grow from mistakes and move past bitterness. Further exacerbating that limitation was the fact that the doctors and her parents never told her about that element of her injury. The loss of identity (she was in college to become a professional pianist) and mobility from the car accident was just the first in a long line of injuries and deaths that she would confront. She also lived through abusive relationships and broken marriages. She endured poverty and all the damages it causes to the mind, body, and spirit. And she bore the oppressive weight of depression that was deeply complicated by her sense of shame, bitterness, and sorrow. How she got up and got up and got up each and every day is amazing to me.

She couldn't make sense of why so many of her relationships were fraught with strife because of her neurological limitations. Yet, she continued to try to make friends, cultivate love, and be family to the best of her ability. Regardless of the quality of those relationships, what is remarkable is that she persisted in reaching out until the very end. She exhibited a kind of hope in love and relationship that could change the world if we all had it. Her refusal to give up is a kind of faithfulness that takes courage beyond measure. Her willingness to love regardless of limits is a witness to the Holy. And our ability to look at the whole Debbie with all of her flaws and yet see her intention is a kind of graceful forgiveness.

I know that what the pastor said at Mom’s funeral had integrity with her beliefs but I want to make sure that our inheritance has integrity with her life. In her obituary I wrote, “Her love of music, laughter, and fellowship will continue to live on in all she touched.” It is my prayer that her faithful, persevering hope lives on as well.

Epilogue

In my previous words, you will find echoes of my favorite theologian and pastor, Reinhold Niebuhr. In his book The Irony of American History, he said,

Nothing that is worth doing can be achieved in our lifetime; therefore we must be saved by hope. Nothing which is true or beautiful or good makes complete sense in any immediate context of history; therefore we must be saved by faith. Nothing we do, however virtuous, can be accomplished alone; therefore we must be saved by love. No virtuous act is quite as virtuous from the standpoint of our friend or foe as it is from our standpoint. Therefore we must be saved by the final form of love which is forgiveness.

I also wish to share the words of Victoria Safford from her article entitled “The Gates of Hope” because I think they have bearing on the steward I want to be of living Mom’s legacy.

Our mission is to plant ourselves at the gates of hope--not the prudent gates of Optimism, which are somewhat narrower; nor the stalwart, boring gates of Common Sense; nor the strident gates of Self-Righteousness, which creak on shrill and angry hinges (people cannot hear us there; they cannot pass through); nor the cheerful, flimsy garden gate of "Everything Is Gonna Be All Right." But a different, sometimes lonely place, of truth-telling about your own soul first of all and its condition, the place of resistance and defiance, from which you see the world both as it is and as it could be, as it will be; the place from which you glimpse not only struggle but joy in the struggle. And we stand there, beckoning and calling, telling people what we're seeing, asking them what they see.

Obituary

Weaver, Deborah Keith – age 65, passed away on Wednesday, January 29, 2014 at home surrounded by her children and loving prayers from around the world. She was a vibrant presence in her faith community and wide circle of friends.  Her love of music, laughter, and fellowship will continue to live on in all she touched. She was preceded in death by parents Sam and Bea Keith; husband Robert “RC” Weaver; brother Gregg Keith.  She leaves to hold her memory: daughter, Lavender Kelley of Chicago; son, Keith Fox of Kingston; grandsons, Kaiden and Tanner Fox; and a host of beloved relatives and friends.  Funeral services will be held at Second Baptist Church in Lenoir City, TN on Saturday, February 1, 2014 at 6pm where Rev. Rick Harrell will officiate.  The family will receive friends from 4:30pm prior to the funeral.  In lieu of flowers the family requests that donations be made to the American Cancer Society in her memory.

A Body Of...

A quote from Margaret Cho:

“If you are a woman, if you're a person of colour, if you are gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, if you are a person of size, if you are a person od intelligence, if you are a person of integrity, then you are considered a minority in this world.

 

...And it's going to be really hard to find messages of self-love and support anywhere. Especially women's and gay men's culture. It's all about how you have to look a certain way or else you're worthless. You know when you look in the mirror and you think 'oh, I'm so fat, I'm so old, I'm so ugly', don't you know, that's not your authentic self? But that is billions upon billions of dollars of advertising, magazines, movies, billboards, all geared to make you feel shitty about yourself so that you will take your hard earned money and spend it at the mall on some turn-around creme that doesn't turn around shit.

 

When you don't have self-esteem you will hesitate before you do anything in your life. You will hesitate to go for the job you really wanna go for, you will hesitate to ask for a raise, you will hesitate to call yourself an American, you will hesitate to report a rape, you will hesitate to defend yourself when you are discriminated against because of your race, your sexuality, your size, your gender. You will hesitate to vote, you will hesitate to dream. For us to have self-esteem is truly an act of revolution and our revolution is long overdue.”

I’ve been trying to write about the complicated relationship I (and many people) have with body image, self-love, healing, and transformation.  You see, if there is anything I profess as a Christian, it is that Christ offers deliverance from bondage and transformation into new life.  Yet this is something I have struggled to embrace all my life.

 

My awareness of this has never waned but it has been heightened in the past few years because I’ve watched my wife lose about 100 pounds and experience a transformation from carrying body fat as a shield to loving every ounce of herself as an expression of her life.  I envy her experience.  I wish I too could experience that. (I do not want to oversimplify her experience as I know she still struggles every day.  Nevertheless, she has accomplished a great deal of growth and transformation.)

 

Another reason my struggle to embrace my body and experience healing has been especially obvious as of late is that I’ve grown increasingly defensive for my wife.  As she lost weight, people would walk up to her and in all good nature tell her, “you look so good” and “you look beautiful.”  While I recognize that they mean to be encouraging and supportive, the unspoken message of “you weren’t beautiful of good enough before” remains. 

 

My blood boils for her, me, and all who struggle with body image when this happens.  The common experience that my wife and I share is that of using our bodies as a shield of protection.  In similar ways, we have dieted for acceptance, eaten to push away pain, and loathed our bodies for all they pain and struggle they represent.  I still do. 

 

But she doesn’t.  She has finally found the combination of space, support, and love to look at her body one ounce at a time and love the way it has been a protector for her, grieve the past, and transform it into a new creation.  It’s been so beautiful to watch.  Truly, there aren’t words for how life filled and hope giving her journey has been and it’s not over yet.  I am grateful and honored to be a witness and sharer in this journey.

 

But where does all this leave me?  I still find myself in the despair of pain from a childhood that should have destroyed me, depression that won’t stop haunting me, and a body so full of scars seen and unseen that I can barely stand to look at it on most days.  I want what my wife has.  I want that deliverance and transformation that I so deeply believe Christ offers.  Yet, I’ve never experienced that combination of emotional space, physical energy, and external support that it takes to sustain such a life changing, transformation.  Will I ever?  I don’t know but I hope so.

Where Are We Going?

Ordinary 25A - Where Are We Going? - (off lectionary sermon series on the body of Christ based upon Isaiah 43:18-21 & Matthew 9:9-17)

Good morning.  It’s great to be with you today as we wrap up the 3^rd in this sermon series about being the body of Christ alive in the world.  If you missed the others, you can pick up printed copies just outside the back door or listen to them online.  You could also just use your imagination from the recaps I’m about to offer.  See, 2 weeks ago, we talked about Christ being the only true authority in the church.  The rest of us are faithfully trying to live out Christ’s calling but do not stand over or under one another. We are faithful together.  Last week we tried to zero in on the diversity of calls within the church and uplift all forms of service as holy.  We are all called to be ministers in different ways.  So whether it’s inside or outside the church doors, but most especially outside the doors, using our gifts and the fruits of the spirit honors God and builds up the body of Christ. This week, we’re going to look at where our lives in the body of Christ might lead us when we’re open to where God is taking us and we’re doing so by examining scripture from Isaiah 43.

The Isaiah passage shows God as both guide and comforter.  In this monologue, God is telling the people of Israel that they need to let go of old ways so that they can be open to what God is doing.  They need to trust that God is not going to burden them with things they can’t do right now.  Rather, the call of the Holy is to lay our burdens and sins to rest with God so that they may be healed.

All this relates to being the body of Christ alive in the world because we need to figure out what God is calling us to in our lives and we need this for two main reasons.  The first is that to see where God is doing something new like Isaiah says, we need to let go of and grieve those things, places, times, and people.  The second reason is so we can open ourselves up to being instruments of that unfolding… and unfolding of something God wants for us and others that maybe we’ve never even imagined before.

Let’s reread parts of this Isaiah passage. 

¹⁸Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old.¹⁹I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.²⁰The wild animals will honor me, the jackals and the ostriches; for I give water in the wilderness, rivers in the desert, to give drink to my chosen people,²¹the people whom I formed for myself so that they might declare my praise. ²²Yet you did not call upon me… ²³You have not brought me your sheep for burnt offerings, or honored me with your sacrifices. I have not burdened you with offerings, or wearied you… But you have burdened me with your sins; you have wearied me with your iniquities.²⁵I, I am He who blots out your transgressions for my own sake, and I will not remember your sins.

Now first, let’s tease through some of the language here and get some stumbling blocks out of the way.  When God says, “¹⁸Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old” this does not mean that we should not have memories.  The Hebrew word we translate as “remember” is a much deeper word than that.  This word implies intimacy and deep connection.  When God says, “Do not remember” our understanding should be do not be bound to or let our minds be so deeply attached. 

The second translation issue we need to understand more deeply is the idea of God being burdened or wearied.  Does this passage does not mean that when we heap upon God our concerns that God is crumbling under the weight of it.  The linguistic piece that is lost here is that of transference.  We are burdened by sin and wearied by iniquities.  We transfer that to God and God blots out sin and does not “remember” our sins.  There’s that word remember again.

So what is it that we need to not be bound to so tightly so that we can be open to where God is going?  Well, we really could spend days unearthing all kinds of things that we each need to be let go so that we can be part of God’s always unfolding reality.  But for time’s sake and for from what might be very pertinent to this grouping of the body of Christ, let’s get very specific here for a few minutes.  Then if we do this well, the model can be used for dealing with other areas of our lives.

What if God stepped right here and said to us, “Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way.”  What do you think God might be talking about?  Well, a few things come to mind but the search for a new pastor seems to loom large.  And I believe God truly is saying to this grouping of the body of Christ that very thing.  God is saying, “grieve what you need and open up for something new.” 

Now before you think I’m just pulling a scripture passage and making it say what I want it to say, first of all I want you to hear that I’ve been hearing this message for a long time from God about this body.  I’ve even been addressing it in worship at different times.  But more importantly, you can judge for yourself.  Is that what God is saying?

Let’s look at the evidence.  This congregation has gone through some tough ups and downs and turns.  Even in good times, transition is hard and this church has stayed in transition for a long time.  But when you look around at each other, the quality of the faith and the earnestness of the love for one another is extraordinary. 

I recently told someone that by all accounts, most churches that have gone through all this church has gone through would have closed their doors.  Yet, this one is thriving.  It may have lost some members and it’s had it’s financial concerns but from what I can tell, the faith here is outstanding.  So, if you just look on the surface at the faces and numbers, the church is definitely different from 10 or 20 years ago.  But when you look into the hearts, the body of Christ is most definitely alive and well here. 

And, how did all this happen?  All I can surmise is that God has been here every step of the way making a way.  And I think the very best thing we can do is figure out how to be open to that.

So, did I convince you I’m not just making this up?  I hope so.  Because here comes the hard part… actually letting go of the things, places, times, and people of the past in a way that still honors the meaning they still hold but not being bound to them as if they rule where God is going. 

So often we long for the way things were or at least the idea.  It seems simpler and more comfortable.  And sometimes it really was a simpler and more comfortable time though often that’s a trick our mind plays.  But regardless, we are called to live as God’s people in a living, moving, every changing, body of Christ so we can’t go back in time no matter how badly we might like to and we can’t recreate the past because God has already taught us those lessons so it’s time for something else.

See, just like the Pharisees and the followers of John the Baptist in today’s gospel message, we are often our own stumbling blocks.  Many times it is the existing people of faith who struggle most by holding fast to our own notions, pride, memories, wounds, and other things that keep us from seeing where God is leading us today.

When we think of this church being without a pastor or calling a new pastor, what notions about old pastors gone by or old times in the church do we need to honor and let go of?  Where do we need to honor the things we’ve learned or the people we’ve encountered so that we can cherish what is good and move forward?  What are the old wounds, doubts, grudges, and struggles that we need to place in God’s hands so that God can heal and transform them into some new thing?  I trust that God has already placed something on your hearts even now.

So, what does grieving the things gone by like?  How do we do this?  Letting go and grief is a process but, let’s keep it simple.  Earlier, you were given slips of paper to write on.  In a moment we’re going to pray to hear what God wants each of us to cherish yet move forward from when we think about this church’s past.  We’re also going to pray for God’s support to grieve and mourn the things of the past that we feel bound to or that still have a hold on us. 

Next we’re each going to write just 1 thing on this paper that God said to us.  Later, when the offering plates go around, please place it in the plate.  I’m going to collect them and burn them.  On October 2^nd, in 2 weeks, you can join me as I take the ashes and till in the old memories into the flower bed outside where the things we let go of will always be a part of the beauty of this church but don’t have to bind up where it is going.

Sisters and brothers, being the body of Christ alive is about being here and now and participating in what unfolds.  When we unburden ourselves from wounds, sin, and the past by turning to God, we become fertile ground for God’s plans.  Pray with me now that we may be a full participant in that plan.

Holy God, thank you for the way you have guided us.  Please help us cherish the meaning of the past and honor what you’ve taught us.  Also, speak to us what we need to let go of so that we can be a part of your plans as this church calls a new pastor.  God we trust in you and your work.  Relieve our fear and anxiety during this time without concrete answers and help us to stay focused on faithful living today.  Amen.

What happens next?  Does this mean that God is going to turn everything upside down?  Well, it could happen.  But more likely we’re going to feel the anxiety of the emptiness from trying to let things go.  Yet, we have each other to see it through.  And where there is emptiness, God offers us hope: hope that God’s workings in and around us are healing, hope that life in the body of Christ is faithful, hope that with God’s help we can grow in deeper love of creation, and hope that First Presbyterian Church is on the edge of something even more remarkable and beautiful than it is right now. 

Now I invite you to write on the paper what God has told you and give it to God in the offering plate.  And trust that God will take it and heal or transform it into something even more extraordinary.  Amen.

Living Forward

An entanglement of grief, hope, & wonder marks my day so far. Relationships are so wildly complex with abundant mixed blessings.

It all started so innocently when I began pulpit supply as a "side gig" to make some extra money. But as God would have it, I became the defacto interim minister for a congregation and over the past year I've married, buried, baptized, held, nurtured, loved, and been loved by this church. Over this time, God has also whispered into my heart about new callings and possibilities of someday being a parish minister. I’ve listened and opened myself up to the day when this may come.

But for now, I love these people and I know that my time is drawing to a close with them because they will soon call a new pastor. My duty as their defacto interim has been to nurture them along the way and I feel like I have. But they will never know fully how they have been part my healing and part of God’s larger plan for me.

As I sit to reflect today, I pray to be a good steward of what they have given me. I pray also that the meaning and the relationships we have shared will live on in ways that reflect the quality of our love. But no matter what, I know that I am forever made better by what they have shared with me.

Risen and Still Rising

Easter Sunday - Risen and Still Rising <–- Audio file link - A sermon based upon Matthew 28:1-10

Good morning and welcome to the resurrection! I’ve you’ve not been with us all week, you’ve missed the celebration of a remarkable life in Jesus on Palm Sunday. On Maundy Thursday we heard the call of Jesus to be servants to one another and make deeper relationships with one another even in the midst of difficulty. Good Friday, watched in horror as those in religious and political power used their authority to have him brutalized and killed. And Yesterday, we sat vigil in prayer grieving and still reeling from the horror. And this morning at sunrise, we greeted the empty tomb where we saw that Christ seeks to involve us in his resurrection and does so with grace and compassion.

But now, we are in the thick of it all. Jesus is risen. Mary and Mary have the task of telling others. And Jesus even comes to them personally to tell them that he will come to them in Galilee. In each of the Gospels, this story unfolds slightly differently but they all have certain things in common. Christ promises to reveal himself again and does.

So, what do we make of all this? I think the first thing that must be said is that we have a hard time making sense of resurrection. It’s no wonder people both inside and outside of the church fight over whether it’s a myth or real event or even a hoax. But not understanding isn’t the real problem here.

What I think what bears scrutiny is why is it we have such a hard time wrapping our minds around resurrection? If we could understand, we wouldn’t have such difficulty figuring out what it means to our faith. And I’m not talking about skeptics. I’m talking about people of earnest faith who believe that the resurrection is a gift from God to all people. And I am willing to bet that most of us in this room have a hard time with it in some way or we have at some point.

We have a hard time with it because it’s so often beyond our common experience. I mean we struggle to conquer the little habits and “lesser sins” in our lives so how can we truly connect to a story of a risen Christ who crushed sin and suffering? We try. We try a lot and we work hard to make sense of it but at the end of the day, we find ourselves struggling with the same old flaws and sorrows. So, if Jesus was raised as a triumph over death and suffering, why do we struggle so much to experience it ourselves?

And that’s where we’ll start today. This morning in the sunrise service, we looked at how Christ approaches us in resurrection. We said that even when we don’t understand or can’t recognize Christ in our midst, Christ is faithful and reaches to us, and calls us forward with grace and compassion. But it’s just still so hard to see him and internalize what he has to offer.

Maybe that’s just it. Maybe we don’t understand what he’s offering for us to receive it. Maybe we need to expand our understanding of what resurrection is if we’re going to experience it more fully and with less doubt and despair.

So what is resurrection? Well, it is a raising of a body from the dead. The bible offers many stories of such events. But it’s more than just that. In Jesus’ case, it’s the raising and being made whole after being violated and brutalized by those in power. Jesus’ death and resurrection is an event of triumph and says that those who would try to squash the truth and life cannot succeed! The truth and life found in God’s love are so abundant that they live on and on and on.

So another thing we need to hear about resurrection in Christ is that it’s ongoing. Now, ongoing can mean different things. It can mean that something changed and that change still holds or it could also mean that something started changing and the process of change is still happening. I raise this distinction because I think it has bearing on why we have such a hard time internalizing Christ’s resurrection and what that ongoing resurrection means in our own lives.

I think the tension between Christ’s resurrection and our own difficulty understanding it is because Christ’s resurrection is one where something changed and it will always be that way for him. However, because we still live in the brokenness of the world, our experience of resurrection is one where a change starts to take hold in our lives but it’s a process that doesn’t come to completion until we’re fully in God’s loving arms.

So, what am I getting at? Well, I think it means that when we look upon the raised Christ, we really should be in awe because what has happened and is still happening in him is amazing and beyond our reach to fully comprehend in this time and place. We only catch glimpses of it through the body of Christ in the world. The reason the body of Christ functions with such mystery and wonder and beauty is because it’s purity is beyond our reach even though we participate in it as we are.

But this also means that we are a people both fully redeemed and still being refined. We are in the process of resurrection and it’s an ongoing venture that takes time and work. Our savior serves as a model while we’re fast at work trying to put the pieces together.

In the reformed tradition, we say that we are always both “being and becoming.” I always liked that phrase. It says that we are God’s beloved children as we are and more than adequate yet we have far more we could become here and now if we’ll be open to the pathway of resurrection.

But what does this really mean to us? Well, I suspect that we are our own barriers to experiencing resurrection more than anything else. Because we are not experiencing the one time miraculous event of Jesus but rather a process of resurrection, we don’t see the bigger picture of what is going on in our lives. We lose patience or faith or energy or hope. And, simply put I think we have to have grace and love for ourselves here and now just like God does. And if we have grace and love for ourselves and others, we’ll hear the calling to grow further in the body of Christ and continue becoming that fully resurrected spirit in Christ.

But what does it really mean? It means that we all have those places we struggle, those flaws that haunt us. We all have wounds from experiences that have not healed and continue to make us vulnerable to reacting out of pain and fear. Those are the things we must have grace and compassion for in ourselves. God already does. But do we?

When we struggle with depression or other ailments of the mind and spirit, how gentle are we with ourselves? When the pain and fear that illness bring takes hold on us, do we stay open to the love that the body of Christ offers? When our security is threatened, do we keep our hearts open? When lose someone, do we let ourselves be vulnerable? When we fall on our face over and over and over again with the same struggle whether it’s dishonoring our body or having a self-centered spirit, do we keep looking to God or do we condemn ourselves, denying our value and worth in God’s eyes. And when the unknown is in our midst, do we stop to see if it might be Christ or do we look away in fear?

Do you want to know what Christ’s ongoing resurrection looks like? Ongoing resurrection is the person who bears the pain of an abusive past or maybe even the present and still gets up with hope that healing can happen. Resurrection is the person with cancer who says I’ll not go through this alone because the healing I find in those who love me equals or exceeds the healing I get from these treatments. Resurrection is the family that keeps growing and changing and dealing with everything that comes up because being a family is hard and takes daily renewal. Resurrection is the person who loses a loved one and honors the love they shared by carrying that love forward and sharing it with others.

Do you want to see the face of resurrection? Look around this room. Look at the faces of people around you. Look at this group of people who have lost several pastors in 10 years and been betrayed and wounded yet you still come here with faith and hope in the living Christ. Hope that healing will be yours. And faith that it’s not the pastor that makes this church, but the people. That, my friends is resurrection lived. It’s lived in a process that has ups and downs but new life woven into every part of it.

Sisters and brothers, resurrection is loving and hoping and living in the face of the brokenness. It is knowing that the risen Christ will keep working through and around us. It is being both redeemed and still being refined, being and becoming. Each and every day, we are taking part in the process of resurrection and new life

As we go from here celebrating our risen Lord, may we also seek and take part in the ways Christ is healing our lives into resurrected glory. May we claim God’s love and healing so that we can experience it. And may we live the resurrection each and every day. Amen.

Easter Sunrise - Why Are You Weeping?

Easter A Sunrise - Why Are You Weeping? – A sermon based upon John 20:1-18

Good morning and welcome to Easter sunrise service. We’ve made it through Holy Week where we’ve seen Jesus triumphantly entering Jerusalem, him sharing in humble service and fellowship with his disciples, Christ being betrayed and brutally put to death. But now we’re here. We have made it to see our risen Christ! And not only is our Gospel passage one of that event, this Gospel account is one of the most moving accounts of the empty tomb. Reading this story always makes me aware of just how frightened and bewildered Mary Magdalene must have been that morning.

And it’s because of her experience that we congregate so early on this day. There’s something special about gathering at dawn that helps us take in what it must have been like for Mary Magdalene when she found an empty tomb on that sacred morning. So again, welcome! And welcome to the resurrection!


Sometime back when I started praying and thinking about what themes we needed to connect with during Holy Week, I never had any doubt that resurrection was where we needed to be today. Oh, I know there are lots of directions pastors can go with the Easter story and each year seems to call for something different. But this year, it felt like God kept whispering the word resurrection to my heart and mind.

So, even though it may seem obvious, that’s where we’re going this morning. In this sunrise service, we’re going briefly reflect on what this story is telling us about how we experience Christ and the resurrection. In the later services, the sermon will focus on what is resurrection and living the ongoing resurrection. So, I hope to see you there.

Well, let’s talk about what happened that morning. Mary Magdalene went to the tomb presumably to grieve or care for the body. But when she arrives, she finds no one. Jesus is gone. She was dumfounded by what was going on so she went to get the disciples. They didn’t know either. In Mary’s grief, she stayed at the tomb weeping. This is when Jesus spoke to her but she didn’t recognize him. Then he called her by name and she did. Jesus told her the truth of his resurrection and then she went to share it with the disciples.

This seems like a fantastic story in part because we have such a hard time wrapping our minds around what happened that morning. And they had a hard time too. What this resurrection meant would not become clear to them for some time to come. So all we have are the circumstances and the reactions. But I think those tell us something about resurrection too. And if we can deal with the jarring reality Mary encountered that morning, maybe we’ll be ready to deal with what the resurrection really means for us later.

So, I think the first thing we need to recognize about encountering resurrection is that when we’re in the throes of sorrow or some other overwhelming emotion, we have a hard time recognizing Christ in our midst. Mary Magdalene was there seeking someone she was close to and thought his body had been violated and stolen. She was absolutely grief stricken when Jesus first spoke to her so it’s no wonder she didn’t recognize him. But even though Mary didn’t recognize him, he still reached out with a question of caring and concern. “Why are you weeping?”

Let’s think of our own lives. When we’re at our lowest, how often do we not recognize the compassionate hand of the Body of Christ when it reaches out to us? I venture to say, more than we probably realize. Yet, that hand keeps reaching out to us even when we don’t see it. So, I think God’s message to us is the same as Jesus’ message to Mary. God is faithful even when we can’t see it and has abundant grace for us in those times.

The next thing I think we can learn about encountering resurrection is that we have to be open to what is being revealed to us. Mary suddenly recognized Jesus when he called her by name. Before she recognized him, she was so overwhelmed that Jesus could have continued to talk to her but she would not have really heard him. But by speaking her name, something so personal, he connected with her and she could take in what Jesus had to share.

I think our lives are the same way. Like I said before, the body of Christ reaches out to us and reaches out to us but sometimes we don’t or can’t recognize it. But God is intentional to speak to us. When God’s message isn’t getting through, God seeks to find what will connect with us personally so that we recognize and are able to hear. Take for example, struggling with illness. Pain and suffering can be overwhelming and even though there are people around us trying to help, we have a hard time receiving that help or recognizing that it’s there. But sooner or later, if we don’t completely succumb to the pain, that just right phrase or that just right moment comes to us that opens our eyes and then we can see God in our midst again.

The third thing I think we should recognize about encountering resurrection is that once we get our bearings and have recognized Christ in our midst, we must act. Resurrection is an action and one that we participate in. When Jesus finished talking with Mary, she went forward to tell others. And in the coming weeks, we’ll see that this going forward turns into a movement. It’s a movement that demonstrates the body of Christ alive in the world… resurrection in our midst.


So, I’ve pointed to three things from this passage about encountering resurrection. 1) Christ is faithful to us even when we don’t recognize him in our midst. 2) Christ reaches out to us in ways that connect personally so that we can recognize him. And 3) recognizing and hearing Christ calls us and connects us to the workings of Christ. So, why did I point these out?

I did so because this morning, we’re looking at an empty tomb and don’t always know what to make of it. Sometimes we’re doubtful. Sometimes, we don’t understand. Sometimes, we can’t see. But that’s okay because Christ will be faithful and reach to us and call us forward anyway with grace and compassion.

I shared this because we each need resurrection in our own lives yet often become trapped by sorrow and pain. But that’s okay because Christ will be faithful and reach to us and call us forward anyway.

I pointed to these things because resurrection is not just a one-time event. Christ comes to us each day with compassion, just as he did Mary, and says, “Why are you weeping?” There are moments and moments and moments that Christ takes what is dead and fills it with new life. Yet we struggle to see where it came from or how we can participate in it. And that’s okay because Christ will be faithful and reaches to us and call us forward anyway.

Sisters and Brothers, He is risen! We don’t say he has risen or did rise as if it was an event of the past. We say he IS risen because it is timeless. We may not know what to make of it yet, but something amazing has happened and will keep happening if we but hear his voice in those resurrection moments.

I hope you’ll stay around for a later service where we’ll look at what this resurrection is and how we can proclaim it each and every day. Amen.

The Great Ordeal of Salvation

Sermon based upon Revelation 7:9-17 <- Audio file of sermon.

A ministerial mentor of mine, Diana Butler Bass, wrote that in 1968 when Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated, her husband’s family went to their Presbyterian church the next morning. “They went with heavy hearts, expecting the pastor to help make sense of the tragedy. The minister rose to preach. The congregation held its breath. But he said nothing of the events in Memphis. He preached as if nothing had happened. [Her] husband’s family left church that day disappointed; eventually, they left that church altogether.”

I share that story because yesterday 6 people were murdered and another 12 were injured when a young man opened fire at a grocery store in Arizona. The apparent targets were attendees of a community political event hosted by US Representative Gabrielle Giffords. This event has and will continue to receive a great deal of media attention.

The reason these killings capture so much of our attention compared to the murder of an Oklahoma high school principle 4 days ago is because they are mixed with our fear of social unrest, the intrigue of assassination, and the sensationalism that so typically marks our culture’s appetite for drama. But the even deeper reason it captures the attention of many of us today is that we feel powerless to do anything about it and hopeless that it will ever get better.

We turned on our TV’s, hopped on the internet, or talked to someone on the phone only to find out that something horrifying happened. Quickly without even realizing it, we were drawn into the short on facts, high on assumptions reporting, including the early report that Rep. Giffords was dead. Liberal talking heads quickly pointed to violent rhetoric from republicans as the cause. Conservative media talked about progressive policies and the fall of individual morality as a root cause. And somewhere in the middle were real people, politicians or otherwise, that were scared for their own lives and the lives of their loved ones and friends.

As I took this in, started to realize that how we experience powerlessness and hopelessness has everything to do with how we respond. I also realized that for all the fear that swirls in our culture, many media outlets and politicians use it against people or at minimum are just putting a Band-Aid on the fear. At their best politicians try to fix it with policies, reporters seek to ease our minds with education, and social groups attempt to give us a vehicle for action. But here we are, real people, in the middle of all this with held together with quick fixes rather than real solutions.

Diana Butler Bass’s family came to church looking for answers in 1968 just as many of us do today. It is the job of church to offer real solutions, solutions that heal our weary souls, bring transforming light to our fears, and fill us with true meaning and purpose so that we are no longer powerless. As we move forward this morning and in all the days to come, let us be that church. The answers are not in what I proclaim but in what we claim together. Our path is not in our perfection but in our earnestness to live out our individual and collective roles in the body of Christ. We are the church, entrusted with offering authentic solutions. It is with that charge that last week we looked at a text from Matthew and suggested that sometimes we are called ahead to pave the way for those who will come after us. As we continue to dive into some biblical texts from the apocalyptic genera, I think this week’s passage also speaks to that healing, transformation, and purpose that provides genuine solutions in our lives.

Our second scripture reading for the day was from the book of Revelation. I think most Christians, including ministers, have a hard time figuring out what to make of this book. What does it signify? How is it applied to today? I mean, most biblical stories have multiple meanings, but we have a hard time just figuring out where to start with Revelation.

But it’s really not that hard. You see, apocalyptic writings are written not to offer crystal ball prophesy into the future but to jar us out of our typical thinking here and now. They are supposed to startle us so that we will let go of an old way of viewing and doing and move forward with a new vision. When we read from the book of Revelation, we are taking in visions and symbols that spoke to the writer’s life in practical ways just as it also does today. But we have to be willing to let it rattle us a little before we can see it’s meaning.

First, let me give you a little background about this passage. You see John of Patmos is sharing his visions of people coming before God and Christ. Just before this passage, he heard the numbers of the 144,000 from the 12 tribes of Israel, who were sealed with God. So this story comes directly after that. We are basically breaking into John’s vision at mid point when this passage begins. So let's look and see what the story tells us.

John said he saw a great multitude so much that people couldn't count them so these aren’t the well-defined 144,000 from the previous passage that are sealed with God. They were from every nation, all types of people, and they spoke many different languages. They were standing in front of the throne before Christ. They were robed in white and they had Palm branches in their hands. They sang praises to Christ in gratitude for their salvation. And at this point, an Elder said to John, “who are these, robed in white, and where have they come from?” John said, “You are the one that knows.” Then the Elder replied “These are they who have come out of the great ordeal; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. For this reason they are before the throne of God, and worship the Holy One day and night within God’s temple, and the One who is seated on the throne will shelter them. They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

Every time I read this, it always strikes me that the Elder had a pretty detailed reply for man who, at first, didn't admit that he knew who these people were. maybe he didn't want to recognize them like the way we sometimes don't want to claim we know the homeless or the abused. But he tells us a lot. First of all, he told us that they it been through great ordeal. So, what is this great ordeal? Well, with what the Elder said, we can know that these people suffered a lot because he says that they won't be denied basic needs anymore. That they will not go hungry and not be without shelter, because they will be with the shepherd, the Christ.

So what do we make of this passage? What is this great ordeal? And what does it mean to us today? Well, let me share a few of the features that stand out to me about this passage. Many scholars point to the fact that these are not the protected ones, sealed by God. Some suggest that this countless multitude are the “sheep of another fold” referred to by the Gospel of John. I don’t know. But what I do know is that arguing about who they might be misses who they are for sure.

From all that this passage says, it seems to me that these people are the ones of subjugation and oppression in the world. These are people who have been denied and deprived… abused and ignored. These are people that our governments, our societies, and our communities have forgotten or chosen to ignore. They are the homeless… They are the poor… They are the racial ethnic minority… They are the refugee… They are the mentally ill… They are the ones suffering with AIDS… They are the battered… they are the violated… They are the ones without voices… The ones without hope. But here they are singing praises and being healed.

So, one of the important meanings of this passage is that hope is available to the downtrodden. Hope that Christ, the Shepard will care for them. Christ does not want them to suffer. Christ desperately wants them to experience victory over oppression. I use the term victory because they were waving palm branches. And palm branches are always a symbol of victory and triumph over evil in the bible. These people of long suffering had finally prevailed. This is what Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. meant in his closing words of a speech the night before he was killed. He said,

Well, I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn't matter with me now. Because I've been to the mountaintop. And I've looked over. And I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land. And I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.

Those are powerful words from a prophet that would be murdered the very next day. But he knew hope. He had glimpsed it in the vision of God for God’s good creation.

But you know, I have to admit that asking the homeless and the hungry to wait for the hereafter in order to be liberated seems unfair. So I am reminded that we are called to be the body of Christ in the world. This passage can be seen as a call for us to step forward and help the widow and the orphan, the marginalized and oppressed to find victory. Maybe this is passage should serve as proof that Christ does not want humanity to suffer. Our response to that call should be to help in the work by truly being the body of Christ and living out our calls… living out God’s vision of victory over sin and death.

But let's go one step further. There are more ways to hunger and go without shelter than just physical ones. There are those who starve for love, acceptance, and invitation to the table. There are those that have endured great struggles in this world without the shelter of community, without the shelter of church, or without the shelter of the Christian family. You see I think this passage is also talking about the human struggle. The struggle to find nourishment and sustenance in the faith.

John was seeing all people who hunger and thirst after righteousness. It is a long suffering struggle to find what we need in this broken world. We are called to live in community with one another as the body of Christ. When we are sick, lonely, or tired we struggle to find hope for something better… hope for salvation. But hope is in Christ and the promise to relieve us of our struggle and bring us to victory. Hope is also in those around us who embody Christ in this world and help us through the struggles. Salvation is truly a great ordeal. Not because of Christ; Christ’s work holds all grace and sufficiency. The great ordeal is because of our brokenness.

This is where we find ourselves today. An apparently mentally ill young man did something horrific yesterday. Several bomb like devices have been sent to politician’s offices around Washington this past week. Some politicians are urging us to not “retreat” but to “reload.” Drug violence in Mexico continues to escalate. And even close to home, domestic violence and poverty in Lake County are on the rise. Where’s the hope in such overwhelming facts?

Friends, we find hope in Christ and find hope in those around us who help us through struggle. We then turn around offer that hope to others because we are the body of Christ. In spite of all that is “wrong” around and within us, a lot more goes right even if we don’t see it. Who knows how many shootings have been prevented because a concerned neighbor or family member reached out to someone with an emerging mental illness to provide shelter and support? How many crimes of desperation have been avoided because of food pantries and resale shops like the ones at First Pres? Can we even begin to count the number of children who are touched by youth events at this church and others? How many people have lived to find a better way than abuse because of a friend reaching to them? And who might we each have become but for way we’ve been touched by the body of Christ? We can look far and we can look near. There are countless multitudes who have tasted Christ’s salvation because of the way we reach out. We, in this room, are even among those multitudes whose lives have been transformed by hope in Christ.

Sisters and brothers, let us grieve for those who suffer. Let us shed tears of sorrow for lives that will not be. But let us also hold tightly to our hope in Christ… hope that we’ve tasted through our own needs and experiences, hope that others need too. When the message of the world is fear and fight, let us be and offer a true solution of relationship, connection, and love. Amen.

National Coming Out Day

I've never really known what to say about National Coming Out Day. It is brave to come out. It is no less brave to protect people by not coming out. Not all people can come out because they lack the support, emotional energy, and safety. I grieve for them, not judge them. Yet, I celebrate those who can come out and enjoy the integrity that transparency offers. I pray for their safety every day. I've been out over 20 years (I'm only 36). It's been worth it to make smart choices yet seek transparency when it is possible. Thank you to all those who have made it possible to share of myself fully. You are the ones I celebrate most today.

Grieving in a War Zone

I frequently have interactions that leave me with looming questions.  This is my recolection and the remaining questions from one such incident:

I was rounding floors and was on 5W where I was told a 14yr old male was inpatient from surgery to set a compound fracture tibia. The nurse relayed that he was speaking in belligerent ways to all staff and that he had no family with him. It was almost 1am and the patient was still up watching TV.

I knocked and entered the room when he acknowledged me. There I met KM who is African American and appears older than his age. He said in a gruff tone, “what do you want?” I said, “My name is Lavender and I’m a chaplain here. I saw you were up and thought I’d say hi since I don’t get to see too many folks awake at this time of night.” He replied, “yeah, I don’t sleep much and I don’t trust these b******. Anyway, what do you want?” I said, “I don’t really want anything. But like I said, I saw you were up and thought I’d check in. Wanna play a game or watch a movie?”

From that point, KM and I had a conversation about card games. He told me he was great at poker and that I’d never be able to read if he was bluffing. He started sharing stories of beating other people. I got a deck of cards and we played dealer’s choice. For the first 20 min, he continued with grandiose stories of things he had won playing poker and said he wanted to play professionally. At some point I asked how he learned to play.

At this point his manner changed into something quieter but he quickly rebounded and told me about his older brother who had been shot and killed. Though not said directly, the context clues told me it was gang related. His stories of his brother were full of the same profanity, grandiosity, and bravado he had been exhibiting. I gathered that his brother was 3 years older and was killed last year. I dropped the subject for a while sensing that he didn’t want to go further than surface details.

After a while I noticed him staring at my badge. He asked, “What’s a chaplain?” I went into my normal explanation of a chaplain being kind of like a minister in a church but instead of working at a church, I only work here. And I added that I like to spend time with all kinds of people no matter what they believe because it’s important to not be alone when you’re sick.

At this he sat up straighter in bed and apologized for his profanity. I told him I didn’t care but then asked him why he would apologize to me but not the nurses who were trying to take care of him. He said, “those b****** don’t care about me. They just want to get my black a** outta here so I can be killed like everyone else.”

I said, “what makes you think that?” He replied, “Are you stupid? That’s how everybody is. Cops, teachers, everybody. My brother didn’t die because he was in a gang. He died because none of you care!”

I sat silently looking into his angry eyes and noticing his heavy breathing for what felt like an eternity though it was only about 10 seconds. I said, “KM, would it be okay if I don’t believe everyone feels that way? I don’t want to sound like I’m arguing with you because it sounds like you feel that way for a reason.”

He said, “of course you don’t think that.” I said, “what do you mean?” He replied, “because of God and s***. You aren’t supposed to.” I said, “no one is supposed to feel that way. No one should want someone else dead.” When I said this, I had a fearful feeling I overstepped. He looked at me angrily and said, “I want those f****** that killed DM dead!” I said, “If it were me, I would too but wanting something because I’m upset and actually doing it aren’t the same.”

At this point he starts telling me about all the people that have his back. There’s something about him that tells me he really doesn’t like violence but I can’t figure out what to say about it. He shared the story of how he broke his leg jumping from something to chase someone away. He said, “my brother would have done the same thing” as he concluded the story. I said, “It’s real important to me to remember people that are dead that are still part of me. Sounds like you work hard to remember your brother. How would he want you to carry him on?”

He showed me his tattoo honoring his brother. He then told me about how his brother never wanted him be in the gang. He said, “DM used to say I just needed to play basketball and take care of momma.”

He continued to talk a while about how he doesn’t have a choice to be in the gang now and how he likes having friends, especially ones that knew his brother. I found myself thinking that I really had nothing to offer the kid. Personally, I don’t think he stands a chance of getting out of the gang alive and I know exactly why he thinks most white people want him dead. Yet, he’s got a really sensitive inside that I catch glimpses of when he gets close to his pain about DM.

Finally I said, “I know there are lots of things you can’t change and I’m not going to pretend like you can. But what is one simple thing that would make your life better?” Without any hesitation, he said, “not hate so much.” I unintentionally chuckled and said, “I said a ‘simple thing’” and he laughed too.

This was a turning point in our conversation. KM spoke with insight into how much he misses DM and how doing what his brother did is a way of keeping DM with him. He said he never felt angry and hateful prior to the murder.

I reminded him of what I said earlier about carrying dead people with me as a way of honoring them and loving them. I asked him what ways he wanted to show his brother honor. We talked about it for a while. The things he wanted to do include continuing to play basketball, staying in the gang, getting another tattoo, and writing DM’s name on some wall. I also asked him if there were parts in addition to the hate he wanted to let go of. He was less clear about this but he was clear that he wanted to smoke pot but never wanted to use drugs like his momma does. I think the unspoken dynamic is that she uses to mask feelings of sorrow. So this was his way of saying he wanted to let go of the sorrow too.

Our conversation started to wind down and I could tell it was time to go. I told him I was really glad to meet him and even more honored that he and I had such a great talk. We had a mildly awkward goodbye with the unspoken piece being that we would never see each other again.

This 2+ hour conversation happened as we played poker. Though many themes exist including racism, I focused on and have continued to reflect upon how to help someone grieve when they don’t have the space or safety to do that in a textbook manner.
• I place a lot of trust in my intuition in such moments. What are some dangers I might miss if I focus too much on his underlying gentleness?
• Is it ethical for me to move him toward grief work when he may need the anger/pain as a mode of survival?
• What other resources could I have offered?
• I wish I had helped him name sorrow. How else could I have helped him continue healthy grieving?

The Moment That Matters

Recently a child died unexpectedly while admitted to the hospital.  Because it is rare to have anything unforeseen happen at our hospital, the staff experience these moments as difficult to reconcile.  I hear “what if” questions from the most brilliant and competent of care providers.  I also find myself asking how I could have met the spiritual and emotional needs of the family and staff better.  Those questions are perfectly reasonable.  We have a hospital culture that invites us to always grow and become more than we are.  So, these questions come from a place of recognizing that we can always do something better.  But will the growth from that process necessarily change the outcome of such situations? 

It might but that does not need to be our only focus.  Our job, regardless of the specifics of our functions, is to enter into particular moments in time where we engage all the dynamics and variables of that moment bringing who we are and what we can offer.  That sounds like a lot but it is exactly what we do every day.  Working in a hospital, regardless of the position, is very much about being engaged so that we see the patterns and needs as they emerge.  We utilize our senses, training, and one another to produce the best outcomes for our patients and families.  Yet, we don’t always get the result we want.

Shortly after this child died, I was talking with one of the staff as she asked the questions of what could have been done differently.  Yet, I sensed in her a darker sense of guilt and doubt that I’ve watched haunt nurses and doctors to the point of leaving the profession.  As we spoke, I asked her, “What would it have really taken to create a different outcome for that child?”  She looked at me puzzled so I answered the question for her.  I said, “I believe you did your absolute best in that small moment in time that you were with the patient.  That moment was preceded by many many moments where other decisions would have had to have been made in order for your moment to be different.  It’s like walking in on an elaborate pattern of dominos falling.  You only get to see a small section but the dominos have been hitting one after another for a long time.  You did exactly what you could in that moment.”

What I told her is true.  When I look at the medical realities of the patient, I see a series of events that cascaded toward that one moment where she died.  Our staff entered into a critical moment for that child and provided world class medical care that honored her and her family.  We worked hard as individuals of various disciplines and as a team.  Yet, we were not able to save the child.  Why?  Did someone do something wrong?  Not in that moment.  Sure, there are little things that we can improve upon.  For example, I wish I had arrived faster to support the family.  But I didn’t because there are many needs and as a chaplain, I triage needs just like the clinical staff.

I’m not saying that medical mistakes never happen because we all know that they do.  Nevertheless, that was not the case in this moment nor has it been the case in any moments I’ve witnessed.  Yet, I continue to encounter staff that internalize the traumatic nature of such a loss and become haunted by its memory. 

We enter moments.  We can’t be responsible for all the other moments that lead to that one.  We must have grace for ourselves and recognize our limits.  This grace is certainly akin to God’s grace.  We are always in the presence of moments with God and all creation where we are limited in our influence because there is so much more that has happened and will continue once we’re gone.  We are truly part of an elaborate, always unfolding, pattern of dominos that drop and create the next moment and the next moment and the next moment.  May we always enter the moment.

Helping Children Cope After Traumatic Loss

Recently, I was asked for advice on what to do with children on a significant date in the life of a grandparent who committed suicide less than a year ago.  The questions were about whether to involve their children ranging in ages from 7-12 in rituals and sharing as well as how to talk with them.  The parent also shared with me details of how each child tends to process, communicate, and share emotion.  The following is my response to that person with appropriate edits to protect the family. 

[Friend],

You’ve been in my thoughts and prayers.  No death is ever easy but some are harder and leave us with more questions than others. Suicide is usually among the hardest for everyone to make peace with, not just for children.  So, let me start by saying that I hope you are finding the support you need.  Maintaining all your roles as parent, spouse, child, and so much more is incredibly difficult in the midst of grief, especially when it is traumatic and unexpected.

Talking to kids about death is a significant part of what I do for a living but telling you for certain how to handle it is impossible. Every child is different and you obviously know that because of the way you describe them.  So, I suggest you give yourself credit and trust your intuition with them. 

From what I know of you and [your spouse], you are open parents who talk in age appropriate ways to your children.  But as a reminder, it is best to use consistent, direct wording like “dead” or “death” because you don't want this to be confused with other types of leaving. But a difficulty you face is that [your oldest child] is now processing from a combination of abstract and concrete thinking whereas [your youngest child] is still a concrete thinker.  This may mean having conversations with them at different times so they can each ask and get what they need.  Personally, I avoid theological messages like “God needed him in heaven” because it gives kids painful messages they can’t process about their own safety here and now. But it is okay to talk about “being with God and Jesus in heaven” if that is what you believe.

Most importantly, when they are ready, answer their questions and talk to them about it. Every kid is different so those questions will come at different times.  You can encourage questions without forcing the conversation. But when one of them does ask questions, be prepared to answer the tough ones like when will grandma, mommy, daddy, siblings, and self will die. Try never to act shocked by their questions because they’ll interpret it as something being wrong with their questions.  Sometimes they ask truly difficult ones like “what did he do wrong that he killed himself?” or “if I die, will you replace me?”  These are questions that need straight answers.  Listen for what the underlying need or fear is and just answer them in simple, honest ways.

Now that I’ve gone on (maybe too long) about how to talk, let me get to your specific questions about what to do on these significant dates like birthdays, death anniversaries, and such.  I appreciate you “not wanting to put any emotions on the [the children]” but they need to see the wide array of emotions you have AND witness you handling them appropriately. In part, this is done by you having conversations with [your spouse] (perhaps even including them) where you share your thoughts and feelings but only go as far as they can handle.  It will give them courage to handle their own emotions to witness you two doing the same.

As for what specifically to say or do, do whatever is natural and meaningful to you and your family.  Kids need to learn that rituals and remembrances are a way we hold onto people in a healthy way.  If it is meaningful for you to tell stories, then do that.  It you prefer to do something else, please do.  What’s important is that the children see you as facing your grief and dealing with it rather than avoiding it.  But also give room for them to grow into and prefer other rituals of their own.  Some kids like to write letters or draw pictures for the person who has died.  Anyway, whatever is done, you should emphasize that this is about BOTH honoring/loving [the grandparent] AND helping ya’ll to express your feelings.  With time they will come to understand that those activities ultimately make your memories of [the grandparent] more meaningful.

Again, I want to encourage you to trust yourself while also listening to your inner needs.  Kids are more in tune with sensing comfort and discomfort than they are your specific words.  If you are uncomfortable, please do what you need to grow through that.  But also just be honest with them about why you are uncomfortable.  That will help them more than trying to hide your discomfort.

I hope this has been helpful.  You will continue to be in my prayers.  Please let me kwon I you need anything. I also have some great children’s resources like coloring books, books for various reading levels, and support information if you are interested.  I could ship you anything you think might be helpful.

Grace and Peace,

Lavender

P.S. Now that I read back through this I think the one thing I didn't say that I wanted to is that they are looking to you to learn how to grieve.  You are their guide and they will likely be able to handle whatever rituals or events you include them in as long as you prepare them for it.  Make sure they know what to expect.  I know it sounds odd to tell someone step by step what will happen at a ritual but kids need to know in advance what concrete steps to take or they are more caught in their fear than their wonder.  It is in wonder that rituals bear their greatest gifts. 

Sorrow and Hope: A Response to Civil Union and Christian Marriage Committee Preliminary Report

Yesterday the Civil Union and Christian Marriage Committee released its preliminary report. I am deeply grateful for their work and can read in the text the earnestness and love of Christ that the members posses. They were charged with studying “the following, including any policy recommendations growing out of the study:

• the history of the laws governing marriage and civil union, including current policy debates;
• how the theology and practice of marriage have developed in the Reformed and broader Christian tradition;
• the relationship between civil union and Christian marriage;
• the effects of current laws on same-gender partners and their children; and
• the place of covenanted same-gender partnerships in the Christian community.”

Having read and reflected upon this report today, I believe they delved deeply into all of their charges. Yet, it is the last one where I always felt like the most crucial issues of this discussion lay. What is the place of covenanted same-gender partnerships in the Christian community? The committee that studied this issue even sought input from the body at large and I along with many others offered submissions. The committee findings and statement are found from page 23-28 of the report.

This is a deeply personal issue for me. I am a lesbian clergy woman who is currently leaving the PC(USA) because of a lack of “place” for me, my wife, and our daughter. We are not leaving because we found no place in congregational life or lacked in fellowship with Christian sisters and brothers. On the contrary, we’ve found much love and support in the church. Christ’s love, welcome, and reconciliation has been alive with us and will continue in these relationships that live beyond denominational confines. Our departure is due to conflicts over polity rather than relationship or theology.

The committee’s mandate also called on them to research the history of marriage which they did well. In fact, I found my own beliefs echoed because I find that marriage as we currently understand it in the church and western culture is a fairly young phenomenon. Biblical images of marriage do not look like what we practice nor is it what most people want for themselves or their children.

Yet, there are deeper messages in the Bible, Christian history, and beyond that tell us not so much about contractual marriage as much as they teach us about covenant relationship. As seen from the beginning of Hebrew Scripture, we are a people who have a deep understanding that God loves us and covenants with us through all times and in all conditions. It is God’s example that we mimic through our interpersonal and intimate relationships. We are always seeking to cultivate the love and growth that covenant relationship nurtures, the love that God instills within us.

This belief is constantly reinforced as I find that most people are doing the best they can to live out that spark of love that is within them. We seek to connect and develop that love through relationships as best we can understand them. Nevertheless, this is a daunting task even in the most supportive circles because we bear so much brokenness and it stunts our ability to cultivate love that nurtures and heals. However, brokenness has not stopped our efforts to deepen love nor will it ever. We join together each day seeking to live out God’s presence and love in this limited yet beautiful life.

This is the story of my growth in Christ and growth within the PC(USA). My church family has been the home I never had growing up. They showed me that more excellent way which included nurturing God’s calling within me to become a pediatric chaplain. Moreover, it is because of Christ’s healing love that I received through others that I was able to cultivate such a remarkable love with my wife Kim and become a parent to Susan.

I suppose that I am not writing this as much in response to the details of the committee’s report as I am in sadness that I must leave a church that always amazes me and fills me with awe. I read this report with tears streaming. Tears of gratitude for all the people I love and love me within the PC(USA). Tears of loss for hopes and dreams that were cultivated brought to fruition within the PC(USA). Tears for a future, at least for now, where I am no longer in the PC(USA). I grieve the loss of a home so beloved that it has taken me years to make the decision to leave.

This report and the committee behind it bear witness to what and who we are when we allow the diversity of the body to work through the Spirit. I am proud of the committee members and their work. Furthermore, I’m deeply grateful that for many same-gender couples, there is a place in the PC(USA) where relationship and connection within the body of Christ is held in higher esteem than conflict and misunderstanding. As we move forward, please know that my constant prayer is found in the committee’s words. “Together, we are the body of Christ, called to live into our Christ-reconciled life together, acting in a manner that lives out our confession ‘Those whom Christ has joined together, let no one separate.’” Amen

Link to preliminary report: http://www.pcusa.org/oga/newsstories/final-prelim-report-civil-union-marriage-spec-cmte-091809.pdf

Response by my friend and Covenant Network National Organizer Tricia Dykers Koenig: https://app.e2ma.net/app/view:CampaignPublic/id:10488.2407656093/rid:3dc4dabfe5bf4a1b5bc41bf718a351bf