Wednesday, July 23, 2008
One cloudy day
In honor of the clouds and rain we're experiencing in southwestern CT (finally!) here's some wonderfully dark humor:
A truly desperate preacher
from the Indy Star:
Kokomo pastor crashes motorcycle in church
I heard this one on NPR during the half hour 'return' that they do, usually pointing out some short story about the crazy things people do. A pastor wanted to illustrate unity by showing his oneness with his dirt bike. And the thing got away from him during the third worship service in which he had used this unique illustration. Turned out no one was injured because, as in most congregations, attendees were seated a few rows back from the front. The pastor injured his wrist, some front pews, and probably his pride but not the opinion of his congregation. Read some of the comments below the article.
I guess it was a good thing he wasn't a wood-chopping enthusiast or a race car driver.
Kokomo pastor crashes motorcycle in church
I heard this one on NPR during the half hour 'return' that they do, usually pointing out some short story about the crazy things people do. A pastor wanted to illustrate unity by showing his oneness with his dirt bike. And the thing got away from him during the third worship service in which he had used this unique illustration. Turned out no one was injured because, as in most congregations, attendees were seated a few rows back from the front. The pastor injured his wrist, some front pews, and probably his pride but not the opinion of his congregation. Read some of the comments below the article.
I guess it was a good thing he wasn't a wood-chopping enthusiast or a race car driver.
Monday, July 21, 2008
God loves us like crazy cakes
Genesis 28: 10-19a; Romans 8: 12-25
****** Congregational Church, Bridgeport, CT
July 20, 2008
It’s a story that’s so not so unusual anymore. A baby girl is born in China. An American woman travels to China so she can meet this baby girl and become her mother. Other families travel to China as well to meet their new daughter, in some cases, their new son. The baby girl and the American woman look at each other, one with big, dark brown eyes, and the other with blue eyes. The American woman whispers to her new daughter, “I love you like crazy cakes”. She wonders how such a perfect match could be made from so far away.
When they come home on the plane, there were aunts and uncles and grandparents and cousins and friends waiting to meet the newest addition to the family. The baby girl cried when others would hold her but would stop when they brought her back to her new mother. There was a room full of toys and stuffed animals and a new crib to welcome the baby girl to her new home. More friends came to visit. More flowers and cards and gifts came to welcome the baby girl. But the mother and the baby both looked forward to bedtime, when it was just the two of them, and the new mother would rock her new baby girl to sleep.
She holds her baby tightly, kisses her and cries; cries for her Chinese mother who could not hold her, who could not keep her. The new mother prays that she and her daughter will always remember this special woman and hope that she would know that her little one was happy and safe and loved.
The story is from a children’s book entitled “I Love You Like Crazy Cakes” by Rose Lewis. The author tells her own story of how her baby girl came to live with her from China. It is almost like a fairy tale, where the one sought and the one seeking find each other in an almost miraculous way, where it becomes difficult to distinguish between the one sought and the one seeking because both have been seeking, both have been found.
But not all adoption stories are so blissful. In some cases children do not attach or bond themselves readily to their new parents, no matter how much they are wanted, no matter how much they are sought after. They are afraid that they will be abandoned again. They have difficulty trusting anyone. They believe that they don’t really belong, that they aren’t anyone’s son or daughter. They act out their anger with their parents, their siblings, their teachers, with anyone they might feel tempted to be close to. It can leave parents at their wits end, knowing they have done everything to tell their child that they love them and that they are wanted.
But we can’t give back our children, nor do we really want to. All any parent can do, when their child is in pain, whether adopted or not, is to love that child even when they don’t deserve it; especially when they don’t deserve it.
It is this grace that God offers us, each one of us adopted as God’s child, as the apostle Paul puts it. Now, you may think it strange that God would adopt us when God, in a mystery yet to be made known to us, created us in the first place.
It is we who have not always behaved as though we were God’s children. It is as though we did not bond or attach to God in any way that was meaningful. Even though we may be baptized and in this way, attached and bonded to God, it is we who try to find meaning of some kind in that baptism. When we sin, when we believe ourselves to be different from God, that we are somehow separate from God and God’s love and power to heal, when we behave in such a way as to think we don’t deserve love, it is especially then that God does love us and adopts us, chooses us once more to be children of love and grace.
Adoption is more prevalent in our country today than ever before. According to the Evan B. Donaldson Adoption Institute there are over 1.5 million adopted children in the U.S.: over 2% of all children.
58% of Americans know someone who has been adopted, has adopted a child, or has relinquished a child for adoption. How many of us here are acquainted with adoption in some manner?
In 1992, the last year for which reliable data was available, there were 127,441 adoptions in the U.S. Some of these adoptions come about through foster care by foster parents, relatives, or adults to whom children have no prior relationship. Stepparents can adopt their stepchildren. A private adoption can be handled through an agency or independently, usually with a lawyer’s assistance. After World War II international and transcultural adoptions increased. Many were European and Japanese war orphans. Additional adoptions followed after the civil war in Greece, the Korean War, and the Vietnam War. Desperate poverty and social upheaval have also been factors in countries allowing their children to be adopted abroad, such as Africa, Latin America, the former Soviet Union, and Eastern Europe. In China, the abandonment of infant girls and overcrowded orphanages has encouraged many eager parents to adopt there. Between 1971 and 2001 U.S. citizens adopted 265,677 children from other countries, mostly from Asia.
Adoption is truly an act of grace. For whatever reason a mother or both parents are unable to care for a child, another mother, sometimes a lesbian couple, another father, sometimes a gay couple, or a heterosexual couple choose that child and say, “We will care for you. We will accept you as our child. We will love you your whole life long.” Imagine being abandoned by the world, orphaned from the family and perhaps country of your birth; then redemption comes in the form of an open heart of one who also felt lost until they found you.
It is like one of the slogans of the Still Speaking campaign that makes a wonderful welcome on the front of a church’s bulletin: No matter who you are or where you are on life’s journey, you are welcome here. We adopt each other and anyone who would come here seeking Christ and a deeper relationship with him. There are some who have suffered abandonment from the world, who have been orphaned from their family of faith, yet they desperately want to belong to a community that accepts them as they are, who would adopt them as they are, just as we have been adopted into this family of faith.
When we adopt others into our family, we too experience redemption and grace. When we extend the circle to include those who are excluded, our hearts are opened that much more to God’s grace. One of the most powerful adoption stories of grace and redemption that I’ve ever heard was in the movie “Gandhi”. During the terrible Hindu/Muslim riots that occurred after India’s independence, Mahatma Gandhi went on a hunger strike to end the violence. As he lay dying, a Hindu man stormed into his presence, crazed with anger and grief. He told Gandhi that a Muslim man had killed his son; he was about so high. The Hindu man, the boy’s father, in his anger and grief, killed a Muslim boy in retaliation. He shouted at Gandhi that he was going to hell. How could he find a way out of hell? Gandhi said he knew a way. He told the Hindu man to find a boy, about so high, the same age as his dead son, but he must be a Muslim boy and he must raise him as a Muslim. This was how he could find a way out of hell.
When we adopt those who are different from us and celebrate their differences and ours, we become something altogether loving and healing and wonderful. This is our hope in Christ; this is what we await for with eager longing, like an orphan child who awaits new parents. We, who do not always behave like children of God with one another and with this earth, await the day when all humankind, when all the earth will realize kinship with itself, when we will know ourselves to be sons and daughters of the One who made us in the divine image and claims us, chooses us even though we don’t deserve it and especially because we don’t deserve it.
Look at Jacob, one of our fathers in the faith. He certainly didn’t deserve the responsibility that God was giving him. He cheated his brother Esau out of his birthright and then lied to his father to gain Esau’s blessing. Later in the story he schemes against his father-in-law Laban, running away before he can be discovered. When we read about him in today’s scripture lesson he is on the run from Esau, fearful because Esau has vowed to kill him. Jacob himself has abandoned any sense of loyalty to his family, he has orphaned himself by his behavior, and he is not yet decided that he will adopt the God of his father and his grandfather.
Yet God sends him a vision of a ladder, a stairway to heaven, with angels going up and coming down from heaven. God tells Jacob that the promise made to Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah will also be extended to him and through him he will bless all the families of the earth. God adopts him as a firstborn son, even though he was a cheat and a liar. God promises to protect him and to be with him always.
When Jacobs wakes from this vision, he realizes that he is never out of God’s presence, that even his sins are done in God’s sight. He knows he is in a holy place. His grandfather, when he was called Abram, traveled there, built an altar as Jacob did and worshipped there, already known as Bethel or Beth-El. You may already know that Bethel means ‘house of God’. But what you may not know is that the God of Abraham, Isaac and now Jacob is the adopted God of Beth-El, El being a Canaanite word for the generic name of God. God adopts the identity of El, adopts Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob as heirs of God’s promise and they, in turn, adopt God or El as their God, their only God. Here we have strangers in a strange land being led by God who is a stranger to them, all becoming family, the family through whom all families will be blessed.
How have you, ****** Congregational Church, this ‘house of God’, been blessed by all the families that have been and continue to be a part of this church? How are you a blessing to the families of this community? How can you extend the circle of grace and redemption to others? Who might have difficulty feeling like they would belong here? Whom can you think of in this neighborhood and the surrounding area who might be seeking a family to belong to? For what are you longing in your church, in your city, and in the world?
When we adopt God’s Spirit, God’s love and grace to live in us, we become “Beth-El”, the house of God. We become an extension of God’s love for us, of God’s love for the whole world, the whole earth. God loves us like crazy cakes; we are God’s children, born in blessing, adopted in grace. Adoption has the power to transform lives. As heirs of this life-changing transformation, let us also open our hearts to embrace new sisters and brothers with the love and grace of God. Amen.
****** Congregational Church, Bridgeport, CT
July 20, 2008
It’s a story that’s so not so unusual anymore. A baby girl is born in China. An American woman travels to China so she can meet this baby girl and become her mother. Other families travel to China as well to meet their new daughter, in some cases, their new son. The baby girl and the American woman look at each other, one with big, dark brown eyes, and the other with blue eyes. The American woman whispers to her new daughter, “I love you like crazy cakes”. She wonders how such a perfect match could be made from so far away.When they come home on the plane, there were aunts and uncles and grandparents and cousins and friends waiting to meet the newest addition to the family. The baby girl cried when others would hold her but would stop when they brought her back to her new mother. There was a room full of toys and stuffed animals and a new crib to welcome the baby girl to her new home. More friends came to visit. More flowers and cards and gifts came to welcome the baby girl. But the mother and the baby both looked forward to bedtime, when it was just the two of them, and the new mother would rock her new baby girl to sleep.
She holds her baby tightly, kisses her and cries; cries for her Chinese mother who could not hold her, who could not keep her. The new mother prays that she and her daughter will always remember this special woman and hope that she would know that her little one was happy and safe and loved.
The story is from a children’s book entitled “I Love You Like Crazy Cakes” by Rose Lewis. The author tells her own story of how her baby girl came to live with her from China. It is almost like a fairy tale, where the one sought and the one seeking find each other in an almost miraculous way, where it becomes difficult to distinguish between the one sought and the one seeking because both have been seeking, both have been found.
But not all adoption stories are so blissful. In some cases children do not attach or bond themselves readily to their new parents, no matter how much they are wanted, no matter how much they are sought after. They are afraid that they will be abandoned again. They have difficulty trusting anyone. They believe that they don’t really belong, that they aren’t anyone’s son or daughter. They act out their anger with their parents, their siblings, their teachers, with anyone they might feel tempted to be close to. It can leave parents at their wits end, knowing they have done everything to tell their child that they love them and that they are wanted.
But we can’t give back our children, nor do we really want to. All any parent can do, when their child is in pain, whether adopted or not, is to love that child even when they don’t deserve it; especially when they don’t deserve it.
It is this grace that God offers us, each one of us adopted as God’s child, as the apostle Paul puts it. Now, you may think it strange that God would adopt us when God, in a mystery yet to be made known to us, created us in the first place.
It is we who have not always behaved as though we were God’s children. It is as though we did not bond or attach to God in any way that was meaningful. Even though we may be baptized and in this way, attached and bonded to God, it is we who try to find meaning of some kind in that baptism. When we sin, when we believe ourselves to be different from God, that we are somehow separate from God and God’s love and power to heal, when we behave in such a way as to think we don’t deserve love, it is especially then that God does love us and adopts us, chooses us once more to be children of love and grace.
Adoption is more prevalent in our country today than ever before. According to the Evan B. Donaldson Adoption Institute there are over 1.5 million adopted children in the U.S.: over 2% of all children.
58% of Americans know someone who has been adopted, has adopted a child, or has relinquished a child for adoption. How many of us here are acquainted with adoption in some manner?
In 1992, the last year for which reliable data was available, there were 127,441 adoptions in the U.S. Some of these adoptions come about through foster care by foster parents, relatives, or adults to whom children have no prior relationship. Stepparents can adopt their stepchildren. A private adoption can be handled through an agency or independently, usually with a lawyer’s assistance. After World War II international and transcultural adoptions increased. Many were European and Japanese war orphans. Additional adoptions followed after the civil war in Greece, the Korean War, and the Vietnam War. Desperate poverty and social upheaval have also been factors in countries allowing their children to be adopted abroad, such as Africa, Latin America, the former Soviet Union, and Eastern Europe. In China, the abandonment of infant girls and overcrowded orphanages has encouraged many eager parents to adopt there. Between 1971 and 2001 U.S. citizens adopted 265,677 children from other countries, mostly from Asia.
Adoption is truly an act of grace. For whatever reason a mother or both parents are unable to care for a child, another mother, sometimes a lesbian couple, another father, sometimes a gay couple, or a heterosexual couple choose that child and say, “We will care for you. We will accept you as our child. We will love you your whole life long.” Imagine being abandoned by the world, orphaned from the family and perhaps country of your birth; then redemption comes in the form of an open heart of one who also felt lost until they found you.
It is like one of the slogans of the Still Speaking campaign that makes a wonderful welcome on the front of a church’s bulletin: No matter who you are or where you are on life’s journey, you are welcome here. We adopt each other and anyone who would come here seeking Christ and a deeper relationship with him. There are some who have suffered abandonment from the world, who have been orphaned from their family of faith, yet they desperately want to belong to a community that accepts them as they are, who would adopt them as they are, just as we have been adopted into this family of faith.
When we adopt others into our family, we too experience redemption and grace. When we extend the circle to include those who are excluded, our hearts are opened that much more to God’s grace. One of the most powerful adoption stories of grace and redemption that I’ve ever heard was in the movie “Gandhi”. During the terrible Hindu/Muslim riots that occurred after India’s independence, Mahatma Gandhi went on a hunger strike to end the violence. As he lay dying, a Hindu man stormed into his presence, crazed with anger and grief. He told Gandhi that a Muslim man had killed his son; he was about so high. The Hindu man, the boy’s father, in his anger and grief, killed a Muslim boy in retaliation. He shouted at Gandhi that he was going to hell. How could he find a way out of hell? Gandhi said he knew a way. He told the Hindu man to find a boy, about so high, the same age as his dead son, but he must be a Muslim boy and he must raise him as a Muslim. This was how he could find a way out of hell.
When we adopt those who are different from us and celebrate their differences and ours, we become something altogether loving and healing and wonderful. This is our hope in Christ; this is what we await for with eager longing, like an orphan child who awaits new parents. We, who do not always behave like children of God with one another and with this earth, await the day when all humankind, when all the earth will realize kinship with itself, when we will know ourselves to be sons and daughters of the One who made us in the divine image and claims us, chooses us even though we don’t deserve it and especially because we don’t deserve it.
Look at Jacob, one of our fathers in the faith. He certainly didn’t deserve the responsibility that God was giving him. He cheated his brother Esau out of his birthright and then lied to his father to gain Esau’s blessing. Later in the story he schemes against his father-in-law Laban, running away before he can be discovered. When we read about him in today’s scripture lesson he is on the run from Esau, fearful because Esau has vowed to kill him. Jacob himself has abandoned any sense of loyalty to his family, he has orphaned himself by his behavior, and he is not yet decided that he will adopt the God of his father and his grandfather.
Yet God sends him a vision of a ladder, a stairway to heaven, with angels going up and coming down from heaven. God tells Jacob that the promise made to Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah will also be extended to him and through him he will bless all the families of the earth. God adopts him as a firstborn son, even though he was a cheat and a liar. God promises to protect him and to be with him always.
When Jacobs wakes from this vision, he realizes that he is never out of God’s presence, that even his sins are done in God’s sight. He knows he is in a holy place. His grandfather, when he was called Abram, traveled there, built an altar as Jacob did and worshipped there, already known as Bethel or Beth-El. You may already know that Bethel means ‘house of God’. But what you may not know is that the God of Abraham, Isaac and now Jacob is the adopted God of Beth-El, El being a Canaanite word for the generic name of God. God adopts the identity of El, adopts Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob as heirs of God’s promise and they, in turn, adopt God or El as their God, their only God. Here we have strangers in a strange land being led by God who is a stranger to them, all becoming family, the family through whom all families will be blessed.
How have you, ****** Congregational Church, this ‘house of God’, been blessed by all the families that have been and continue to be a part of this church? How are you a blessing to the families of this community? How can you extend the circle of grace and redemption to others? Who might have difficulty feeling like they would belong here? Whom can you think of in this neighborhood and the surrounding area who might be seeking a family to belong to? For what are you longing in your church, in your city, and in the world?
When we adopt God’s Spirit, God’s love and grace to live in us, we become “Beth-El”, the house of God. We become an extension of God’s love for us, of God’s love for the whole world, the whole earth. God loves us like crazy cakes; we are God’s children, born in blessing, adopted in grace. Adoption has the power to transform lives. As heirs of this life-changing transformation, let us also open our hearts to embrace new sisters and brothers with the love and grace of God. Amen.
Jacob's LadderFriday, July 11, 2008
I Want to Believe
If you're going to do a movie about the hidden history of aliens, the conspiracy to cover them up, and the team to uncover it all (take note, Spielberg), this is the paradigm in which to do it. Plus, the best sci-fi score since "Star Trek". I am geeking out all over! Saved from the usual summer blusterbocks at last!
Mulder and Scully together again.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
From the Sunday bulletin
Most of our group in front of house #16; yours truly, in front on right.
It was a great trip. It being my third time down there I really don't have any more insights than the ones I have shared here in past years. Only that I really do need to live with less and focus more on the needs of others. And learn Spanish.
During our flight back from Mexico we put together our worship service. Parts had been assigned, i.e., reflections, prayers, Scripture readings, and we put our trust in the Holy Spirit. Jenn, our associate pastor, had already emailed certain worship details to the church secretary for the bulletin.
These are the lyrics from our communion hymn. The last line of the last stanza just about brought tears to my eyes, but getting to bed around 2:30 a.m. may have had something to do with that.
Children of God - words by John Greenleaf Whittier, alt.
Children of God, lift hearts to one another,
where pity dwells, the peace of God is there;
To worship rightly is to love each other,
each smile a hymn, each kindly deed a prayer.
For God whom Jesus loved has truly spoken:
the holier worship which Christ deigns to bless
Restores the lost, and binds the spirit broken,
and feeds the widow and the parentless.
Follow with reverent steps the great example
of Christ whose holy work was doing good;
So shall the wide earth seem a holy temple,
each loving life a psalm of gratitude.
Then shall all shackles fall; the stormy clangor
of wild war music o'er the earth shall cease;
Love shall tread out the baleful fire of anger,
and in its ashes plant the tree of peace.
That's me adding some embellisment to one of the houses at the dump.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Going with God
Tomorrow I am headed once again to Oaxaca, Mexico with 14 adults and college students for our church's mission trip to Casa Hogar. If you'd like to see what we're up to, click here to see daily photos and blog posts of our goings-on. Our main project will be building a cinderblock home for one of the 33 families that lives and works at the Oaxaca garbage dump. Last year we built the first one; this year we're on #16. We'll also be visiting, playing with, and eating with more than 70 children at Casa Hogar.
It's a week like no other, very full with the power to empty my mind of all its pettiness. Well, most of it. I ask your prayers for the safety and well-being of our group and prayers for the children and their caregivers and the resident workers at the dump. And for Kristen and Bryan, fearless leaders of Simply Smiles, Inc. who introduced us to Casa Hogar. When we return late on July 5, we'll be leading worship the next morning. Dios te bendiga.
It's a week like no other, very full with the power to empty my mind of all its pettiness. Well, most of it. I ask your prayers for the safety and well-being of our group and prayers for the children and their caregivers and the resident workers at the dump. And for Kristen and Bryan, fearless leaders of Simply Smiles, Inc. who introduced us to Casa Hogar. When we return late on July 5, we'll be leading worship the next morning. Dios te bendiga.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Dobson's choice
from CNN:
Evangelical leader Dobson accuses Obama of 'distorting' Bible
Ironically, it seems James Dobson can't decide if he'd like to be the pot or the kettle. Take a look at this excerpt from his criticism of Obama's efforts to gain evangelical support, aired on his radio show yesterday.
It sounds like Dobson is saying that certain Old Testament texts that no longer apply are not equal to Jesus' teachings. Which would those be? It's okay to eat shellfish but we should still stone homosexuals? It's legitimate for Focus on the Family to pick and choose which verses in Leviticus are valid but not Senator Obama? Dobson could take his statements about Obama and level them squarely at himself, pointing his wagging finger in the direction of his mirror.
Besides all that, Dobson has chosen not to support McCain because he is not far enough to the right. In fact, he may not vote for a presidential candidate at all.
As the poet John Lydgate said: You can please some of the people all of the time and all of the people some of the time, but you can’t please all of the people all of the time.
Evangelical leader Dobson accuses Obama of 'distorting' Bible
Ironically, it seems James Dobson can't decide if he'd like to be the pot or the kettle. Take a look at this excerpt from his criticism of Obama's efforts to gain evangelical support, aired on his radio show yesterday.
Dobson took aim at examples Obama cited in asking which Biblical passages should guide public policy — chapters like Leviticus, which Obama said suggests slavery is OK and eating shellfish is an abomination, or Jesus' Sermon on the Mount, "a passage that is so radical that it's doubtful that our own Defense Department would survive its application."
"Folks haven't been reading their Bibles," Obama said.
Dobson and [Tom] Minnery [senior vice president for government and public policy at Focus on the Family] accused Obama of wrongly equating Old Testament texts and dietary codes that no longer apply to Jesus' teachings in the New Testament.
"I think he's deliberately distorting the traditional understanding of the Bible to fit his own worldview, his own confused theology," Dobson said.
"... He is dragging biblical understanding through the gutter."
It sounds like Dobson is saying that certain Old Testament texts that no longer apply are not equal to Jesus' teachings. Which would those be? It's okay to eat shellfish but we should still stone homosexuals? It's legitimate for Focus on the Family to pick and choose which verses in Leviticus are valid but not Senator Obama? Dobson could take his statements about Obama and level them squarely at himself, pointing his wagging finger in the direction of his mirror.
Besides all that, Dobson has chosen not to support McCain because he is not far enough to the right. In fact, he may not vote for a presidential candidate at all.
As the poet John Lydgate said: You can please some of the people all of the time and all of the people some of the time, but you can’t please all of the people all of the time.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
The day the funny died
Heaven is now a place I definitely want to be in. The saints in light have called home the funniest, dirtiest old man on earth: George Carlin, thus making what might have been just clouds and harps the biggest belly laugh in eternity.
I learned how to swear from dear old George. When I was thirteen, my mother enrolled me in a sex education class taught by a married couple from our church. One evening, at their house, a recording of George Carlin was played for about 10-12 seventh and eighth graders to initiate us into how most of society talks about sex. We heard the classics "The Seven Dirty Words You Can't Say on Television" and "Sex in Commercials" from his collection on Indecent Exposure. You can imagine the effect it had on our prepubescent sense of humor.When I was in seminary I listened with great regularity (and hilarity) to A Place for My Stuff. "Ice Box Man", "Football and Baseball", and the title track were priceless, sometimes laughing so hard I thought I would pee my pants.
As I grew older, I developed a fondness for George Carlin the actor. In Outrageous Fortune he played a nutjob of a desert guide. In The Prince of Tides he played the fun, thoughtful gay neighbor to Nick Nolte's suicidal sister. In Dogma he showed up as Cardinal Ignatius Glick, the Church being one of his favorite targets as a comedian. And he lent his vocal talents for the character of Fillmore in Cars.
In tribute to this singular voice, here is a video of "Football and Baseball", which also explains why many pastors are baseball fans.
Baseball and Football - Click here for more free videos
Monday, June 23, 2008
Unplugged
Matthew 10: 24-39; Romans 6: 1b-11
******** Congregational Church
June 22, 2008
Back in 1989 the cable channel MTV started a new series entitled “Unplugged”. Rock musicians were invited to play their well-known hits but with a catch: no electric guitars, no keyboards, no special effects—just acoustic guitar, the musician, and an intimate audience. The music was no longer frenetic but had more the pace of a relaxed heartbeat. Musicians had to reconsider their arrangements of songs, to keep the same energy and focus but in an acoustic setting. The song “Leila” by Eric Clapton now sounded like the love song it was intended to be. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with rock n’ roll; in fact I love it. But there are times when it is good to be challenged by letting go of the way things are, by letting go of what we are used to. Often, new life springs forth.
In recent years, especially since the boon in cell phones, Blackberries, ‘texting at the table’, and video games, families have been encouraged to take time to be “unplugged” in another way. Over a year ago I heard a story about families in Lexington, MA who organized one day to be unplugged from the 24/7 of all the craziness. All afterschool activities and homework were cancelled. No civic or religious meetings for the adults. Families were to make a home-baked pizza together, eat it together, play board games or an outdoor sport together, to take a break from the driving to and fro, from the video games, the computer, the TV, the MP3 player, the cell phone, and just be together, listening to one another without the help of electronic devices. This is not for the meek. Believe it or not, this is harder for some than for others. But in my house it’s called Sunday.
What society or culture calls getting back to simplicity, or being unplugged, is what our faith calls dying to self. We all need to be reminded of the backbone of our tradition because some of it is a lot harder than we’d like to think.
Today’s scripture from the lectionary is no exception. This is the kind of scripture, that when its turn comes up in the preaching cycle, causes the preacher to remember that we are not in the pulpit to be popular, funny, or comfortable. To be sure, those things can happen but they can’t be the source we rely upon for our preaching energy. There has to be substance, which comes from God. Scripture like this makes a preacher get out of the way and let God do the talking. We die to self in passages like this and thus are reborn in our connection to the text, to the congregation, and to God.
In fact, in order to understand these passages, especially the one in Matthew, we need to unplug ourselves from our assumptions and our fear. We need to let go of our resistance to sayings like, “Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather be afraid of God, who can destroy both body and soul in hell” or “I did not come to bring peace but a sword” or “Whoever loves his father or mother more than me is not fit to be my disciple”.
First, Jesus is not ushering a call that we alienate our families in order that we may follow him. In the Middle Eastern or Semitic perspective a result was viewed as the purpose as well. The division of families was indeed a reality, a result of the Jesus movement within Judaism. The religion of the head of the household dictated the religion of the whole house: spouse, children, servants—everyone. If anyone chose to follow Jesus and to break with this tradition it caused great strife in the household. The thinking was: if families are divided then this must have been Jesus’ purpose.
Second, Jesus was not challenging the least and weakest of claims on our loyalties but our strongest ones, our family ties. He offered himself as an alternative to the best society had to offer, not the worst.
And it is precisely what we think is the best way we can spend our time, our energy, as the church, the body of Christ, but also in our lives as Christians, that Jesus tests our discipleship against. We can easily abandon our failures but can we also let go of our successes in order that we be faithful? Can we let go of what we think constitutes success, of what we think makes for failure? What model of our faith can we look to, to help us with letting go, with dying to self and finding new life?
In Paul’s letter to the early church in Rome he speaks of being baptized into Christ’s death and into Christ’s resurrection. In baptism we are buried with Christ and we are raised with him as well.
We who practice infant baptism have difficulty thinking of a baby needing to die with Christ in order to be raised with him. But in the early Church the practice of baptism reflected this dying and rising very vividly.
Those who wished to prepare for baptism were given instruction about the faith beginning in Lent. Then on Good Friday these converts, called catechumens, were baptized by immersion into the death of Jesus. As they were submerged their old lives were left behind in the water. They emerged as new persons, new creations, and thus were naked, like a newborn baby. They were then clothed in white and given a meal of milk, honey, and soft bread: baby food, really. They then stayed in the empty church, buried with Christ, until Easter morning when they were presented to the congregation as new members in the faith, now being baptized into Christ’s resurrection. It was an incredible experience of death and rebirth.
But how are we to enter into such an experience, we who have been baptized as infants? How are we to die to self and rise with Christ?
One way is through extended periods of silence, as we will practice in a few minutes during this morning’s prayer time. In silence we release all the thoughts in our mind that seek to fill the emptiness. We empty ourselves of our schedule, our list of things to do, our worries, the past, the unknown future, those things that please us, our friends and our families—we let go of all of it. In silence we are filled instead by God, by the power of pure love. In silence we find freedom from all that distracts us: we find Spirit.
When I was in seminary, every year I would go on a silent weekend retreat in Gloucester, MA. The participants could talk during dinner the first night but then after that we were to be silent all weekend long. Meals were taken in a dining hall that faced a beautiful cove inhabited by seals and seabirds. We listened to meditative music as we ate facing a wall of windows with a view of the cove. When we passed each other in the hallway there was no need for greeting each other except by a look or a smile. We respected each other’s space and each other’s encounter with God in the silence. Then Sunday, after the celebration of the Eucharist, we would eat lunch and could then share with one another what the weekend had been like for us.
In the church we are rarely silent. In many churches the prelude is often treated as background music to our conversations, as if we were at a cocktail party. Fellowship is good and has its place in our life together. But when we come to worship it is the time that we become unplugged from our lives, when we leave them at the door because they’ll be waiting there for us when we leave. Worship, and especially silence, is when we are called out of ourselves that we may be in Christ.
******** Congregational Church
June 22, 2008
Back in 1989 the cable channel MTV started a new series entitled “Unplugged”. Rock musicians were invited to play their well-known hits but with a catch: no electric guitars, no keyboards, no special effects—just acoustic guitar, the musician, and an intimate audience. The music was no longer frenetic but had more the pace of a relaxed heartbeat. Musicians had to reconsider their arrangements of songs, to keep the same energy and focus but in an acoustic setting. The song “Leila” by Eric Clapton now sounded like the love song it was intended to be. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with rock n’ roll; in fact I love it. But there are times when it is good to be challenged by letting go of the way things are, by letting go of what we are used to. Often, new life springs forth.
In recent years, especially since the boon in cell phones, Blackberries, ‘texting at the table’, and video games, families have been encouraged to take time to be “unplugged” in another way. Over a year ago I heard a story about families in Lexington, MA who organized one day to be unplugged from the 24/7 of all the craziness. All afterschool activities and homework were cancelled. No civic or religious meetings for the adults. Families were to make a home-baked pizza together, eat it together, play board games or an outdoor sport together, to take a break from the driving to and fro, from the video games, the computer, the TV, the MP3 player, the cell phone, and just be together, listening to one another without the help of electronic devices. This is not for the meek. Believe it or not, this is harder for some than for others. But in my house it’s called Sunday.
What society or culture calls getting back to simplicity, or being unplugged, is what our faith calls dying to self. We all need to be reminded of the backbone of our tradition because some of it is a lot harder than we’d like to think.
Today’s scripture from the lectionary is no exception. This is the kind of scripture, that when its turn comes up in the preaching cycle, causes the preacher to remember that we are not in the pulpit to be popular, funny, or comfortable. To be sure, those things can happen but they can’t be the source we rely upon for our preaching energy. There has to be substance, which comes from God. Scripture like this makes a preacher get out of the way and let God do the talking. We die to self in passages like this and thus are reborn in our connection to the text, to the congregation, and to God.
In fact, in order to understand these passages, especially the one in Matthew, we need to unplug ourselves from our assumptions and our fear. We need to let go of our resistance to sayings like, “Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather be afraid of God, who can destroy both body and soul in hell” or “I did not come to bring peace but a sword” or “Whoever loves his father or mother more than me is not fit to be my disciple”.
First, Jesus is not ushering a call that we alienate our families in order that we may follow him. In the Middle Eastern or Semitic perspective a result was viewed as the purpose as well. The division of families was indeed a reality, a result of the Jesus movement within Judaism. The religion of the head of the household dictated the religion of the whole house: spouse, children, servants—everyone. If anyone chose to follow Jesus and to break with this tradition it caused great strife in the household. The thinking was: if families are divided then this must have been Jesus’ purpose.
Second, Jesus was not challenging the least and weakest of claims on our loyalties but our strongest ones, our family ties. He offered himself as an alternative to the best society had to offer, not the worst.
And it is precisely what we think is the best way we can spend our time, our energy, as the church, the body of Christ, but also in our lives as Christians, that Jesus tests our discipleship against. We can easily abandon our failures but can we also let go of our successes in order that we be faithful? Can we let go of what we think constitutes success, of what we think makes for failure? What model of our faith can we look to, to help us with letting go, with dying to self and finding new life?
In Paul’s letter to the early church in Rome he speaks of being baptized into Christ’s death and into Christ’s resurrection. In baptism we are buried with Christ and we are raised with him as well.
We who practice infant baptism have difficulty thinking of a baby needing to die with Christ in order to be raised with him. But in the early Church the practice of baptism reflected this dying and rising very vividly.
Those who wished to prepare for baptism were given instruction about the faith beginning in Lent. Then on Good Friday these converts, called catechumens, were baptized by immersion into the death of Jesus. As they were submerged their old lives were left behind in the water. They emerged as new persons, new creations, and thus were naked, like a newborn baby. They were then clothed in white and given a meal of milk, honey, and soft bread: baby food, really. They then stayed in the empty church, buried with Christ, until Easter morning when they were presented to the congregation as new members in the faith, now being baptized into Christ’s resurrection. It was an incredible experience of death and rebirth.
But how are we to enter into such an experience, we who have been baptized as infants? How are we to die to self and rise with Christ?
One way is through extended periods of silence, as we will practice in a few minutes during this morning’s prayer time. In silence we release all the thoughts in our mind that seek to fill the emptiness. We empty ourselves of our schedule, our list of things to do, our worries, the past, the unknown future, those things that please us, our friends and our families—we let go of all of it. In silence we are filled instead by God, by the power of pure love. In silence we find freedom from all that distracts us: we find Spirit.
When I was in seminary, every year I would go on a silent weekend retreat in Gloucester, MA. The participants could talk during dinner the first night but then after that we were to be silent all weekend long. Meals were taken in a dining hall that faced a beautiful cove inhabited by seals and seabirds. We listened to meditative music as we ate facing a wall of windows with a view of the cove. When we passed each other in the hallway there was no need for greeting each other except by a look or a smile. We respected each other’s space and each other’s encounter with God in the silence. Then Sunday, after the celebration of the Eucharist, we would eat lunch and could then share with one another what the weekend had been like for us.
In the church we are rarely silent. In many churches the prelude is often treated as background music to our conversations, as if we were at a cocktail party. Fellowship is good and has its place in our life together. But when we come to worship it is the time that we become unplugged from our lives, when we leave them at the door because they’ll be waiting there for us when we leave. Worship, and especially silence, is when we are called out of ourselves that we may be in Christ.
We are more than just a body of Christians; we are more than a group of people with a shared common interest. We are the body of Christ; through baptism we have union with the living Christ. Our identity is joined to Christ, taking primacy over any other identity we may have. Through baptism we participate in, not merely reenact or imitate Christ’s death and resurrection.
But our baptism as infants is not our only baptism. John the Baptist said that he baptized with water but that there would be one, Jesus Christ, who would come after, who would baptize with fire and with the Holy Spirit.
Baptism by fire: it’s a phrase we use when we are thrown into a situation and forced to let go of all we think we know and learn anew our dependence on God and on each other. Often I think of these times as Christ leading me to something new, to some awareness about myself or others and to reliance on God’s very real and powerful presence.
In the time of Jesus there was a Jewish sect who called themselves Essenes. John the Baptist was one of them. It is thought that Jesus might have also been an Essene. They left Jerusalem to live in the desert because they believed that Jerusalem had become too worldly. In the early Church we have our own desert fathers and mothers from the 4th and 5th century who sought God through prayer and meditation, patience, poverty, humility, and obedience. These are strange words to us in the 21st century. These monks and nuns “stepped off the world”; they died to themselves that they might find God in a way that would be more real than anything they thought they could experience by living an ordinary life.
St. Francis of Assisi practiced this dying to self in this way: his spiritual companion was Sister Death. Whenever he was troubled or confused or worried or impatient, he would consult Sister Death. Then the trouble or confusion or worry would seem not so important and he would be able to be patient.
The paradox of the believer is this: If we want to live a life that is full we must surrender our lives. As in the words of the Call to Worship, if we want to know how to live, we must learn how to die. The Christian faith began in a way as an act of subversion. Being “unplugged”, “stepping off the world”, being silent, dying to self, surrender, knowing death as a close friend, baptism: all these are acts of subversion to the status quo for they lead to resurrection, they lead to new life; new life not of this world but of the kingdom of God; new life not of the flesh but of the Spirit.
How might this church step out of itself, die to its past and its future, that the present might become alive? What are your failures, your successes, that you need to let go of in order to be faithful? What is it about the Christian faith that confronts the claims of loyalty in your life? How costly is discipleship in this church, in your life? How has this church, how have you, experienced the cross? Does the idea of silence in worship beckon you or challenge you? How can this church walk with death, be baptized with fire, be subversive, that new life, resurrection may come?
Baptism by fire: it’s a phrase we use when we are thrown into a situation and forced to let go of all we think we know and learn anew our dependence on God and on each other. Often I think of these times as Christ leading me to something new, to some awareness about myself or others and to reliance on God’s very real and powerful presence.
In the time of Jesus there was a Jewish sect who called themselves Essenes. John the Baptist was one of them. It is thought that Jesus might have also been an Essene. They left Jerusalem to live in the desert because they believed that Jerusalem had become too worldly. In the early Church we have our own desert fathers and mothers from the 4th and 5th century who sought God through prayer and meditation, patience, poverty, humility, and obedience. These are strange words to us in the 21st century. These monks and nuns “stepped off the world”; they died to themselves that they might find God in a way that would be more real than anything they thought they could experience by living an ordinary life.
St. Francis of Assisi practiced this dying to self in this way: his spiritual companion was Sister Death. Whenever he was troubled or confused or worried or impatient, he would consult Sister Death. Then the trouble or confusion or worry would seem not so important and he would be able to be patient.
The paradox of the believer is this: If we want to live a life that is full we must surrender our lives. As in the words of the Call to Worship, if we want to know how to live, we must learn how to die. The Christian faith began in a way as an act of subversion. Being “unplugged”, “stepping off the world”, being silent, dying to self, surrender, knowing death as a close friend, baptism: all these are acts of subversion to the status quo for they lead to resurrection, they lead to new life; new life not of this world but of the kingdom of God; new life not of the flesh but of the Spirit.
How might this church step out of itself, die to its past and its future, that the present might become alive? What are your failures, your successes, that you need to let go of in order to be faithful? What is it about the Christian faith that confronts the claims of loyalty in your life? How costly is discipleship in this church, in your life? How has this church, how have you, experienced the cross? Does the idea of silence in worship beckon you or challenge you? How can this church walk with death, be baptized with fire, be subversive, that new life, resurrection may come?
In the words of the poet Wendell Berry: So, friends, every day do something that won’t compute. Love the Lord. Love the world. Work for nothing. Take all that you have and be poor. Love someone who does not deserve it. …Practice resurrection. Amen.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Will they or won't they?
Yesterday, at my local library, I found the newest publication in a series of mysteries, I Shall Not Want by Julia Spencer-Fleming (see Novels of Faith and Murder under Places to Go). It's the sixth installment of the Clare Fergusson/Russ Van Alstyne mysteries that take place in the fictitious Adirondack town of Millers Kill, NY. Clare is an ordained Episcopal priest and a captain in the National Guard flying helicopters; Russ is the chief of police in this would-be sleepy little town.(I picture Julianne Moore and Robert Patrick playing the two of them in my mind's eye.)
The two friends end up solving murders while their friendship evolves into something more. At the end of book five, All Mortal Flesh, things get pretty complicated between these two engaging characters.A few chapters into I Shall Not Want the two of them seem like they are finally going to consumate this long-standing passion between them when they are, of course, interrupted. It got me thinking about this ancient story formula, the journey to the lovemaking bed.
Whether it's in soap operas, books, movies or plays, the force behind the lovers is the physical consumation of their love, not a church service. The wedding/marriage is also desired by the audience but only secondarily to the bodily and spiritual joining. The promises made in the marriage covenant are an outward sign of an invisible reality, that the two are one. How can one make such promises without ever experiencing the actual joining itself? The physical joining binds us to one another in a way that words can only try to approach. But the ritual is necessary to declare to the world that our reality has changed, that where we were one, now we are two; where there were two, now there is one.
In my parents' day, if you had sex with someone, you married them: a poor excuse for marriage if ever I heard one. What I'm speaking of is lovemaking, a mystical union of flesh and spirit. I'm not advocating having sex with every person we find attractive. But when a relationship has progressed to a certain point, when two people begin to intertwine their lives in such a way as to say "I want to grow old with you", then yes, the physical, mystical union occurs before the promises.
It's like waiting to take communion until you've been confirmed. How can one confirm something they've never experienced?
When I counsel a couple for marriage who have been living together, I ask them, so what difference will a wedding, a piece of paper make? Usually, they answer that they want to commit to this inner reality they've been experiencing, that they want to acknowledge their union in front of family and friends--and God, and declare it real. Experiencing that kind of union can be kind of scary, to admit that we need another human being in our lives so we can give someone our inadequate, imperfect love. I don't blame them for waiting and wanting to see how it goes before they make their promises.
As for me and what I did? That's private business. But it intrigues me, this heart-pounding, wrenching pull toward this physical union, as ancient as David and Bathsheba, and older, that compels to us to read a story as in no other way. Will they or won't they? How? And how will it change the relationship and the story? That's the real mystery, isn't it?
Monday, June 16, 2008
From the Sunday bulletin
This was used at the end of a litany to recognize the graduates in our congregation. These words were theirs to close the time of celebration.
Eternal light, shine in our hearts.
Eternal goodness, deliver us from evil.
Eternal power, be our support.
Eternal wisdom, scatter the darkness of our ignorance.
Eternal pity, have mercy on us
That with all our heart and mind
and soul and strength we may seek your face
and be brought by your infinite mercy to your holy presence.
(Alcuin of York, 8th century)
And this was our call to worship:
Leader: The sinners, the saints, the broken, the whole...
All: We all come to this place seeking grace and hope.
Leader: The doubters, the devout, the wonderers, the wanderers...
All: We come yearning for justice and hope for all God's people.
Leader: The hesitant, the heroic, the grandparents, the little children...
All: We come to listen for the songs of joy and sing our thanks for the gifts of life, love and peace!
This was Strawberry Festival Sunday. Every year around Father's Day, when the strawberries are ripe, our church puts on a festival that Saturday and Sunday, serving strawberry shortcake, smoothies, homemade jams, pies, breads, and of course, chocolate covered strawberries. But the best part is the Sunday morning worship before we start working again. Our church band, Don't Be Alarmed, plays fantastic music. The whole congregation is awash in a sea of red as we wear our festival t-shirts. It's one of the most Spirit-filled services during the year. In a way, it's our Pentecost. We welcome visitors and crafters from all over to our town and our church. Everyone works together and pitches in, whatever can be done. The music is lively and so are we.
To quote a song we sang:
Leader: God is good...
All: All the time
Leader: And all the time...
All: God is good!
Our church band, Don't Be Alarmed
Friday, June 06, 2008
It's all George Carlin's fault
You Are 75% Pure |
 You're pretty pure, and you have no plans on changing that. You do have a devilish side though... and it will probably get the better of you. |
No questions about impure thoughts, though. George Carlin, where are you when we need you?
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
That '70's girl
(It's scary how true many of these are. This is you or your sister or someone you knew from the '70's. In the comments, tell me who this resembles.)
You had that Fisher Price Doctor's Kit with a stethoscope that actually worked.
You owned a bicycle with a banana seat and a plastic basket with flowers on it.
You learned to skate with actual skates (not roller blades) that had metal wheels.
You thought Gopher from Love Boat was cute.
You had nightmares after watching Fantasy Island.
You had either a 'bowl cut' or 'pixie', not to mention the 'Dorothy Hamill'. People sometimes thought you were a boy.
You had rubber boots for rainy days and Moon boots for snowy days.
You owned a 'Slip-n-Slide', on which you injured yourself on a sprinkler head more than once.
You owned 'Klick-Klacks' and smacked yourself in the face more than once!
Your Holly Hobbie sleeping bag was your most prized possession.
You wore a poncho, gauchos, and knickers.
You begged Santa for the electronic game, Simon.
You had the Donny and Marie dolls with those pink and purple satiny shredded outfits, or the Sunshine family.
You spent hours in your backyard on your metal swing set with the trapeze. The swing set tipped over at least once.
You had homemade ribbon barrettes in every imaginable color.
You had a pair of Dr. Scholl's sandals (the ones with a hard sole & buckle). You also had a pair of salt-water sandals.
You wanted to be Laura Ingalls Wilder really bad; you wore that Little House on the Prairie-inspired plaid ruffle shirt with the high neck in at least one school picture; and you despised Nellie Oleson!
You wanted your first kiss to be at a roller rink.
PONG! ('video tennis' ) was the most remarkable futuristic game you've ever heard of!
Your hairstyle was described as having 'wings' or 'feathers' and you kept it 'pretty' with the comb you kept in your back pocket. When you walked, the 'wings' flapped up and down, looked like you were gonna 'take off'.
You know who Strawberry Shortcake is, as well as her friends, Blueberry Muffin and Huckleberry Pie.
You carried a Muppets lunch box to school and it was metal, not plastic. With the thermos inside some were glass inside and broke the first time you dropped them.
You and your girlfriends would fight over which of the Dukes of Hazzard was your boyfriend.
YOU had Star Wars action figures, too!
It was a big event in your household each year when the 'Wizard of Oz' would come on TV. Your mom would break out the popcorn and sleeping bags.
You often asked your Magic-8 ball the question: 'Who will I marry. Shaun Cassidy, Leif Garrett, or David Cassidy?'
You completely wore out your Grease, Saturday Night Fever, and Fame soundtrack record album.
You tried to do lots of arts and crafts, like yarn and Popsicle-stick God's eyes, decoupage, or those weird potholders made on a plastic loom. You made Shrinky-Dinks and put iron-on kittens on your t-shirts.
You used to tape record songs off the radio by holding your portable tape player up to the speaker.
You had subscriptions to Dynamite and Tiger Beat.
You learned everything you needed to know about girl issues from Judy Blume books. (Are You There God, It's Me, Margaret?, It's Not the End of the World, Deenie.)
You thought Olivia Newton John's song 'Physical' was about aerobics.
You wore friendship pins on your tennis shoes, or shoelaces with heart or rainbow designs.
You wanted to be a Solid Gold dancer.
You drowned yourself in Love's Baby Soft - which was the first 'real' perfume you ever owned.
You glopped your lips in Strawberry Roll-on lip-gloss till it almost dripped off.
This is me, circa 1983, after I recovered from the '70's. I had had the Dorothy Hamill look; also the pixie. Yes, I did look like a boy in 1978. I got my ears pierced just to confuse people. But then came the '80's when we needed to recover from mall hair, shoulder pads, and gaudy jewelry. The '90's and the '00's have been pretty cool as far as fashion goes (except for the thong and refrigerator butt - blech!). Which means we are due for another decade from which to recover. I think war, recession, global warming, and the Bush administration are enough, don't you?
Monday, June 02, 2008
Are you there, God? It's me, the Mom.
This past Saturday, after losing a wrenching soccer game (final score 5 to 1), my first baby girl got her period at the tender age of 11 1/2.
It hadn't been a great morning. I was tired: my husband had been out of town for most of the previous week, he and I had had a tiff before I left for the game, and I was ready for a break. So when she yelled "Mom, come up here quick!" from the bathroom upstairs, I mumbled to myself, "Mom is unavailable at the moment".
But then she yelled again, "Mom, I really need to you to see this!" I went upstairs and knocked on the bathroom door, poked my head in and said, "What is it, sweetie?"
"Is this blood?"
"Oh, my God, it sure is! Oh my goodness, you've got your period! My little girl, wow, this is the beginning." And she started to get anxious, saying "Oh no" over and over.
"It's okay, honey," I intoned. "This is wonderful! You're growing up!"
Then she started to laugh, giggle, and cry all at the same time, as if the faucet that opened the way for her hormones and her blood unleashed her all at once. Then I got her a pad and a clean pair of underwear, put the soiled ones in the sink with some cold water, made sure she knew what to do, then left her alone to finish up.
Since then we've had a few brief discussions about swimming, tampons, how often, how long, and that it is indeed natural and not disgusting. Funny how that particular stain still seems so indelible even now. I've told her that I would like to celebrate with her, perhaps have lunch just the two of us; buy her a special piece of jewelry at the Strawberry Festival at our church in a couple of weeks. She's all excited now. My mom took me out for lunch and bought me a ring and a necklace, both now lost.
There are times I wish we lived in a culture that saw this as magical and wondrous, as a time for gathering women and girls together, and that she and I would take some of her blood and mark our faces like warriors, priestesses, leading all assembled in a dance to drumbeats, lit by a bonfire and starlight. Instead we have replaced all this with the blood of a innocent man, shed by violence, his body given that we might be saved.
In truth, it is my blood that saves me every month, that gives me time to myself, apart from men, to reflect and own my truth. Through the blood of our mothers we were all nourished, their bodies given that we might have life. And my firstborn daughter is now part of that long line; the beginning of her relationship with the mysteries of living.
This is a poem I wrote for her not long after she was born. It still holds true.
If Jesus Had Been a Girl
If Jesus had been a girl
we would await the birth
of the newborn queen,
Queen of the Jews,
like Esther, who saved
her people by sacrificing
and risking more than
just her lovely face.
If Jesus had been a girl
there would have been
no presentation in the
temple, no lost child at
the center of attention
with learned scholars.
Herod would not have
cared had she been born
—no threatened, paranoid
ego, no slain babies, no
kings from afar.
If Jesus had been a girl,
she would have been
our sister, but no one
would have listened.
And she would have
lived to a ripe old age,
begging at the temple
gates, speaking of God’s
radical, amazing love,
many thinking she was
crazy. End of story.
Yet you, little one, were
born a girl and I know
I have seen the salvation
of my soul. For God’s glory
is revealed in your face and
in the face of every baby.
To see your face is like
seeing the face of God.
Joy to the world,
for you have come to earth
and given me a second
birth.
It hadn't been a great morning. I was tired: my husband had been out of town for most of the previous week, he and I had had a tiff before I left for the game, and I was ready for a break. So when she yelled "Mom, come up here quick!" from the bathroom upstairs, I mumbled to myself, "Mom is unavailable at the moment".
But then she yelled again, "Mom, I really need to you to see this!" I went upstairs and knocked on the bathroom door, poked my head in and said, "What is it, sweetie?"
"Is this blood?"
"Oh, my God, it sure is! Oh my goodness, you've got your period! My little girl, wow, this is the beginning." And she started to get anxious, saying "Oh no" over and over.
"It's okay, honey," I intoned. "This is wonderful! You're growing up!"
Then she started to laugh, giggle, and cry all at the same time, as if the faucet that opened the way for her hormones and her blood unleashed her all at once. Then I got her a pad and a clean pair of underwear, put the soiled ones in the sink with some cold water, made sure she knew what to do, then left her alone to finish up.
Since then we've had a few brief discussions about swimming, tampons, how often, how long, and that it is indeed natural and not disgusting. Funny how that particular stain still seems so indelible even now. I've told her that I would like to celebrate with her, perhaps have lunch just the two of us; buy her a special piece of jewelry at the Strawberry Festival at our church in a couple of weeks. She's all excited now. My mom took me out for lunch and bought me a ring and a necklace, both now lost.
There are times I wish we lived in a culture that saw this as magical and wondrous, as a time for gathering women and girls together, and that she and I would take some of her blood and mark our faces like warriors, priestesses, leading all assembled in a dance to drumbeats, lit by a bonfire and starlight. Instead we have replaced all this with the blood of a innocent man, shed by violence, his body given that we might be saved.
In truth, it is my blood that saves me every month, that gives me time to myself, apart from men, to reflect and own my truth. Through the blood of our mothers we were all nourished, their bodies given that we might have life. And my firstborn daughter is now part of that long line; the beginning of her relationship with the mysteries of living.
This is a poem I wrote for her not long after she was born. It still holds true.
If Jesus Had Been a Girl
If Jesus had been a girl
we would await the birth
of the newborn queen,
Queen of the Jews,
like Esther, who saved
her people by sacrificing
and risking more than
just her lovely face.
If Jesus had been a girl
there would have been
no presentation in the
temple, no lost child at
the center of attention
with learned scholars.
Herod would not have
cared had she been born
—no threatened, paranoid
ego, no slain babies, no
kings from afar.
If Jesus had been a girl,
she would have been
our sister, but no one
would have listened.
And she would have
lived to a ripe old age,
begging at the temple
gates, speaking of God’s
radical, amazing love,
many thinking she was
crazy. End of story.
Yet you, little one, were
born a girl and I know
I have seen the salvation
of my soul. For God’s glory
is revealed in your face and
in the face of every baby.
To see your face is like
seeing the face of God.
Joy to the world,
for you have come to earth
and given me a second
birth.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Worms
A minister decided that a visual demonstration would add emphasis to his Sunday sermon.
Four worms were placed into four separate jars. The first worm was put into a container of alcohol. The second worm was put into a container of cigarette smoke. The third worm was put into a container of chocolate syrup. The fourth worm was put into a container of good clean soil.
At the conclusion of the sermon, the Minister reported the following results:
The first worm in alcohol - Dead.
The second worm in cigarette smoke - Dead
Third worm in chocolate syrup - Dead
Fourth worm in good clean soil - Alive.
So the Minister asked the congregation - What can you learn from this demonstration?
Maxine was setting in the back, quickly raised her hand and said, "As long as you drink, smoke and eat chocolate, you won't have worms!"
That pretty much ended the service.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Faith and politics don't mix
from United Church News
IRS offers UCC complete vindication
Written by J. Bennett Guess
The Internal Revenue Service has concluded that the UCC did not violate tax laws when U.S. Sen. Barack Obama addressed the denomination's 50th anniversary General Synod in Hartford, Conn., in June 2007.
"Based on your response to the inquiry, we have determined that the activity about which we had concern did not constitute an intervention or participation in a political campaign - and that the United Church of Christ continues to qualify as an organization described in section 501(c)(3)," according to a May 13 letter from the IRS.
The IRS determination outlined several steps taken by the UCC that indicated compliance with the law. The letter said the UCC's invitation to Obama came "well before he announced his candidacy and that [he] was invited to speak - in a non-candidate capacity, on how his personal faith intersected with his public life."
"You further established that the United Church of Christ had verbally communicated to those in attendance that Senator Obama was there as a member of the church and not as a candidate for office, that the audience should not attempt to engage in any political activities, and that the church's legal counsel had advised Senator Obama's campaign on the ground rules for the speech," the IRS determined.
The letter also concluded that the UCC did not authorize campaign volunteers to set up tables near the entrance of the Hartford Civic Center. "The activity was conducted on public property outside the control of the Synod and therefore was not attributable to the church," the IRS said.
The IRS also noted that the UCC's website provided a link to the IRS fact sheet on prohibited campaign-related activities by non-profit groups and that the church's legal counsel had properly advised UCC leaders of these rules.
"We are pleased that the IRS reviewed the complaint quickly and determined, as we expected, that the church took every necessary precaution and proactive step to ensure that Senator Obama's appearance at General Synod was proper and legal," said the Rev. John H. Thomas, UCC General Minister and President. "This is very good news."
Donald C. Clark, the UCC's Nationwide Special Counsel, called the IRS' specific affirmation of UCC planning and action "gratifying."
"A faith community should not, and by following these now established best practices need not, be timid in asking any member to share her or his faith journey," Clark said.
Thomas praised the work of the UCC's legal team, especially the leadership of Clark. "From the early days of planning for our General Synod in Hartford, Don was committed to making sure that the United Church of Christ modeled the way in which it properly handled this matter," Thomas said. "He has provided expert legal counsel and the IRS' determination only underscores this."
William J. Wilkins and Brian J. Menkes, attorneys in WilmerHale's Washington, D.C. office represented the UCC before the IRS. Wilkins commented, "The denomination simply did not conduct any political activity in this case. The conduct of Synod events and the nature and timing of the speaking invitation made that clear." Menkes added, "Reviewers at the IRS gave our submission prompt review and consideration. We appreciate their bringing this inquiry to conclusion once they learned there was no basis to proceed."
Read the IRS determination letter.
IRS offers UCC complete vindication
Written by J. Bennett Guess
The Internal Revenue Service has concluded that the UCC did not violate tax laws when U.S. Sen. Barack Obama addressed the denomination's 50th anniversary General Synod in Hartford, Conn., in June 2007.
"Based on your response to the inquiry, we have determined that the activity about which we had concern did not constitute an intervention or participation in a political campaign - and that the United Church of Christ continues to qualify as an organization described in section 501(c)(3)," according to a May 13 letter from the IRS.
The IRS determination outlined several steps taken by the UCC that indicated compliance with the law. The letter said the UCC's invitation to Obama came "well before he announced his candidacy and that [he] was invited to speak - in a non-candidate capacity, on how his personal faith intersected with his public life."
"You further established that the United Church of Christ had verbally communicated to those in attendance that Senator Obama was there as a member of the church and not as a candidate for office, that the audience should not attempt to engage in any political activities, and that the church's legal counsel had advised Senator Obama's campaign on the ground rules for the speech," the IRS determined.
The letter also concluded that the UCC did not authorize campaign volunteers to set up tables near the entrance of the Hartford Civic Center. "The activity was conducted on public property outside the control of the Synod and therefore was not attributable to the church," the IRS said.
The IRS also noted that the UCC's website provided a link to the IRS fact sheet on prohibited campaign-related activities by non-profit groups and that the church's legal counsel had properly advised UCC leaders of these rules.
"We are pleased that the IRS reviewed the complaint quickly and determined, as we expected, that the church took every necessary precaution and proactive step to ensure that Senator Obama's appearance at General Synod was proper and legal," said the Rev. John H. Thomas, UCC General Minister and President. "This is very good news."
Donald C. Clark, the UCC's Nationwide Special Counsel, called the IRS' specific affirmation of UCC planning and action "gratifying."
"A faith community should not, and by following these now established best practices need not, be timid in asking any member to share her or his faith journey," Clark said.
Thomas praised the work of the UCC's legal team, especially the leadership of Clark. "From the early days of planning for our General Synod in Hartford, Don was committed to making sure that the United Church of Christ modeled the way in which it properly handled this matter," Thomas said. "He has provided expert legal counsel and the IRS' determination only underscores this."
William J. Wilkins and Brian J. Menkes, attorneys in WilmerHale's Washington, D.C. office represented the UCC before the IRS. Wilkins commented, "The denomination simply did not conduct any political activity in this case. The conduct of Synod events and the nature and timing of the speaking invitation made that clear." Menkes added, "Reviewers at the IRS gave our submission prompt review and consideration. We appreciate their bringing this inquiry to conclusion once they learned there was no basis to proceed."
Read the IRS determination letter.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Third time was the charm
Sorry to disappoint those who are eagerly awaiting their chance to see the next Indiana Jones movie, but the series should have ended with the third movie. Here are my reasons:
1. To start with, the third movie, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, ended with Indy and his dad drinking from the holy grail, thus assuring their story of immortality. Then they, Marcus Brodie, and Salah ride off into the sunset. A perfectly satisfying conclusion to the Indiana Jones chronicles.
2. The present movie, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, relied too heavily upon the past, essentially gratifying someone's ego--individually or collectively, I'm not willing to guess. Karen Allen and her character Marian Ravenwood were excellent in the first episode, Raiders of the Lost Ark. Bringing her back into the present after so many years to reprise her role as Indy's on-again/off-again lover was tantamount to a soap opera ploy, beneath Spielberg's and Lucas' imagination. Or so I thought.
3. Although this fourth installment has great action and suspense, the writing, acting, and production values all could have used more work; again, relying too heavily upon the past, especially the aging talents of their actors (despite that sip from the grail).
The palette of the film was too drab. The only 'pop' was during the scene shot in New Haven made to look like a '50's style soda shop. (Also, if you know New Haven and Yale University, it's fun to recognize familiar sights.) Cate Blanchett's character had black shiny hair and wore a light gray jumpsuit during the whole film. It would have been more dramatic to see her slip into something more feminine and colorful, perhaps allowing for some of that witty repartee that Indy is known to engage in with his female nemesis. It also would have given her character a little more depth.
As for the writing, the story of the movie was a bit farfetched (every Indiana Jones film has a story: the lost ark, Kali and the shankara stones, the search for the holy grail), bordering on science fiction rather than Indy's field of archaeology. Some of the subplots were also slipping into soap opera territory, which I outgrew in my twenties. And a few stunts were just outrageous, in that it would be highly unlikely that anyone else could have survived them.
4. Finally, the last 1/2 hour of the movie so closely resembled the last 1/2 hour of National Treasure: Book of Secrets you'd think someone got their hands on the storyboards.
Again, sorry to disappoint, but either go see a matinee to save a few bucks or wait for the DVD and watch it on a friend's big screen TV.
1. To start with, the third movie, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, ended with Indy and his dad drinking from the holy grail, thus assuring their story of immortality. Then they, Marcus Brodie, and Salah ride off into the sunset. A perfectly satisfying conclusion to the Indiana Jones chronicles.
2. The present movie, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, relied too heavily upon the past, essentially gratifying someone's ego--individually or collectively, I'm not willing to guess. Karen Allen and her character Marian Ravenwood were excellent in the first episode, Raiders of the Lost Ark. Bringing her back into the present after so many years to reprise her role as Indy's on-again/off-again lover was tantamount to a soap opera ploy, beneath Spielberg's and Lucas' imagination. Or so I thought.
3. Although this fourth installment has great action and suspense, the writing, acting, and production values all could have used more work; again, relying too heavily upon the past, especially the aging talents of their actors (despite that sip from the grail).
The palette of the film was too drab. The only 'pop' was during the scene shot in New Haven made to look like a '50's style soda shop. (Also, if you know New Haven and Yale University, it's fun to recognize familiar sights.) Cate Blanchett's character had black shiny hair and wore a light gray jumpsuit during the whole film. It would have been more dramatic to see her slip into something more feminine and colorful, perhaps allowing for some of that witty repartee that Indy is known to engage in with his female nemesis. It also would have given her character a little more depth.
As for the writing, the story of the movie was a bit farfetched (every Indiana Jones film has a story: the lost ark, Kali and the shankara stones, the search for the holy grail), bordering on science fiction rather than Indy's field of archaeology. Some of the subplots were also slipping into soap opera territory, which I outgrew in my twenties. And a few stunts were just outrageous, in that it would be highly unlikely that anyone else could have survived them.
4. Finally, the last 1/2 hour of the movie so closely resembled the last 1/2 hour of National Treasure: Book of Secrets you'd think someone got their hands on the storyboards.
Again, sorry to disappoint, but either go see a matinee to save a few bucks or wait for the DVD and watch it on a friend's big screen TV.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Benefits of domestic goddesshood
Movie ticket: $7.00
Online charge: $1.00
Breakfast of popcorn and soda: $8.00
Being able to see a movie at 9 a.m. before most of my geek friends because I am a stay-home mom: priceless.
Eat your heart out, Andy!
Although I wouldn't put it past him to have seen the show at 12:01 a.m.
Monday, May 19, 2008
What's Going On?
Genesis 1: 1 – 2: 4; Psalm 8
****** Congregational Church
This first story of the creation in Genesis 1 is thought to have been written around 500 BCE, after the destruction of Jerusalem in 586, after the Jewish people had been conquered by the Babylonian empire and sent into exile. When a small number of Jews returned home about fifty years later to begin rebuilding their homeland, the stories of creation and of God’s relationship with human beings were written down, in the shadow of domination under a new imperial power, Persia.
The Jewish people knew all about domination, since the time of the Egyptian pharaoh who enslaved them and their descendants to build his empire to the Babylonian, the Persian, and the Assyrian empires, not to mention the Roman Empire of the New Testament, that each brutalized the Jews in their own way. Domination was not the desire of God but it was an extremely harsh reality within which the Jewish people struggled to be faithful.
The Bible is the only book I know of containing the history of a people who were on the losing side of empire. Most histories are written by the winners, the empires, casting themselves in a favorable light, ignoring the stories of those they may have stepped on or even destroyed along the way. Indeed, the whole Bible can be read from beginning to end as a treatise against the evils of empire versus the goodness of the kingdom of God. This is where the black theology of liberation claims its power and its heritage.
People of color know about the evils of empire; most white people don’t. We are the beneficiaries of empire. Even when our government has oppressed white people in some way, some parts of the Patriot Act come to mind, we are willing to overlook it or put up with it. But for people of color oppression can still dominate and permeate their lives. It was a government comprised of white people that enslaved proud African people, with their own culture and long history, and brought them to this country in chains to build an American empire. It was a government of white people who drove indigenous people from their land onto a trail of tears that led to the destruction of their nations and the demoralization of their peoples, all to make room for the American empire. This history doesn’t just go away. I think if this had happened to my ancestors, if they had been considered 3/5 of a person, my outlook would be quite different. When Jeremiah Wright cried out ‘God damn America’, it was not her people he said that God condemned but her empire, her government that continues to oppress, break the hearts of, and imprison people of color ten times more than white people.
God does not bless empire, God condemns it. The United States of America is a descendant of the Roman Empire, that spread its influence to Gaul and the land of the Anglo-Saxons, from which rose the British Empire, from whom this nation was born. From our very beginnings, even as ‘we, the people’ declared that ‘all men are created equal’, we behaved as a domination system, taking, subjugating, treading down the wilderness and its natives.
Today the United States military has over 737 bases or installations in 63 countries worldwide. We are indeed an empire, believing itself to be the only superpower in the world. However, in God’s kingdom power is shared. In Genesis we read that God gives us this dominion, God shares power with us; it is a gift, not a right. And it is given not to a few but to all. To share power means to share what is powerful: an equal education, fair housing, a living wage, justice linked with compassion, and community that embraces each one as a child of God.
Like any nation we are a mix of contradictions. Our government can commit acts of hegemony with impunity, but we the people worry about the people we love, and we see the pain and struggle of our neighbors. Our nation’s influence in the world is beginning to wane, yet we the people have the power to influence the direction of our nation.
Like any church, the United Church of Christ is a mix of contradictions. One preacher’s words can be taken out of context, but not all of us agree with him or with each other. And that’s okay. The majority of our church is white, but we are also African, Hispanic, Latino, Caribbean, Pacific-Islander, Samoan, Native American, and many others.
The conversation, the transformation, the message begins here, in this covenant community where we strive to love one another as Christ has loved us. Our brothers and sisters of color suffer because of the realities of living in an empire, in a dominant white society. What can we do to confess and to repent the sin of racism? How can we reach out in love to ease the suffering, to enact justice, and to embrace everyone as a child of God? God is still creating. How can we create alongside God, with the power that God has given us, to effect radical, permanent change? What holds us captive, how are we oppressed, from what do we need to be freed?
The Body of Christ is segregated and thus, not whole. It begins here, this call to revolutionary love and radical repentance. The church has the power, the power of the Holy Spirit, to disturb the status quo, to effect radical, permanent change in society, if only we will use it. It is not enough that black children and white children hold hands, but that all God’s children, black and white, Israeli and Palestinian, Jew and Arab, Christian and Muslim, Iraqi and American, Darfurian and Sudanese, Chinese and Tibetan, hold hands together as one people on one planet heading toward a common future. It begins here. Amen.
****** Congregational Church
May 18, 2008
Marvin Gaye was one the most influential rhythm and blues artists. In his music he combined gospel, blues, and jazz— ultimately reinventing soul music. Like most people he was a mix of contradictions: spiritual and sensual, romantic and radical. The juxtaposition of these traits made for complex, beautiful music. In 1971 he broke out of the Motown mold with his concept album “What’s Going On?” by writing about the war in Vietnam, the ecology, and the love of God. Berry Gordy, Motown’s hit producer, warned him it wouldn’t sell. Marvin didn’t care. For him, the message was more important.
Marvin Gaye was one the most influential rhythm and blues artists. In his music he combined gospel, blues, and jazz— ultimately reinventing soul music. Like most people he was a mix of contradictions: spiritual and sensual, romantic and radical. The juxtaposition of these traits made for complex, beautiful music. In 1971 he broke out of the Motown mold with his concept album “What’s Going On?” by writing about the war in Vietnam, the ecology, and the love of God. Berry Gordy, Motown’s hit producer, warned him it wouldn’t sell. Marvin didn’t care. For him, the message was more important.
Our denomination, the United Church of Christ, has invited local churches around the country to initiate a ‘sacred conversation’ about racism on this day, Trinity Sunday. In some places this particular message might not sell either. Some might call it a ‘scared conversation’. I am not your pastor; I am here to preach a sermon because your pastor is out of town. I am a white woman, born with a certain amount of privilege and advantages, with really no idea what it means to be the object of racism. But I believe the message is indeed important. We need to talk about ‘what’s going on’ when it comes to racism in this country for several reasons.
One, we have an African-American who just might be the next Democrat candidate for president: Senator Barrack Obama, a member of Trinity United Church of Christ on the south side of Chicago. Two, his former pastor, the Reverend Jeremiah Wright, has been vilified in the public media, amounting to the equivalent of a public lynching of his 36 years of ministry and of the black church and its experience of faith. And three, it’s something this nation is not done with yet, not by a long shot. Jim Wallis, editor and founder of Sojourners magazine, said that America’s sin of racism has not even been confessed, much less repented.
Yes, we’ve come a long way: Senator Obama is a sign of the progress that’s been made in the effort to banish racism from this country. Recently, however, an Obama campaign volunteer canvassing for votes in the Midwest received one homeowner’s angry response with alarm: “Why don’t they just hang that darkie from a tree?” We are shocked that such vitriol still exists, even more so that it is expressed so openly. Yet why are we not equally shocked about our apparent inability to discuss our own racism and fears with our sisters and brothers of color?
It has never been easy for anyone to imagine themselves in the shoes and skin of someone else, whose experience of life is so vastly different from our own. Growing up in this country with a skin color other than white still entails an education different from that of most whites, a family situation different from most whites, an expectation of life different from most whites, and thus an experience of this nation and an experience of God different from most whites.
The Christian faith of most people of color dates back to the prophets, including the prophetic teaching of Jesus Christ, who preached liberty for the captives, freedom for the oppressed, release for the prisoners, and compassion for the brokenhearted, as it is written in Isaiah 61. As Rev. Jeremiah Wright proclaimed at the National Press Club it is a prophetic theology of liberation, liberation not only for the captives but also for the captors, not only for the oppressed but also for the oppressors. It is a theology of transformation, of radical, permanent change: changed hearts and minds, changed laws and lives. Ultimately it is a theology of reconciliation, for God does not desire that we be at war, that we hate or abuse each other, but that we be reconciled to one another. (I haven’t heard those words used in sound bite, have you?) Wright declared that this is not only the core of the black religious experience but also of the United Church of Christ.
This is the bedrock of the United Church of Christ, that as disciples of Jesus we all need liberating: from prejudice, fear, greed, hate, and ignorance. These all stand in the way of us seeing one another with the eyes of grace. God has another vision for us. In Genesis we read that God created us, men and women, in the image of God; in the image of God, God created us. All human beings were created in this image, not just some. In this morning’s psalm we read that we were made a little lower than God, crowned with glory and honor, that God is mindful of human beings, that God cares for mortals, even as the universe continues to birth new stars and new galaxies.
God did all this and then also gave all of us dominion over all creation. But what does it mean, to have dominion? The Hebrew word for ‘dominion’ is râdâh, which means to tread down, to subjugate, prevail against, to rule over, to take. Certainly this is what humankind has done to the earth and its peoples. There have been those who have had power and who have power now, who have oppressed, and continue to oppress, those who are different or believed to be inferior to the ones in power. Precious natural resources have been exhausted, and continue to be exhausted, in the quest to subjugate others as well as establish civilizations. It seems more likely that we were intended to manifest God’s rule of peace and justice on earth, having been made a little lower than God. But I don’t believe that God intended, that God desired this manifestation to be oppressive, violent, or abusive. Sometimes the Bible tells us about what God intends, and sometimes it tells us about what actually happened.
One, we have an African-American who just might be the next Democrat candidate for president: Senator Barrack Obama, a member of Trinity United Church of Christ on the south side of Chicago. Two, his former pastor, the Reverend Jeremiah Wright, has been vilified in the public media, amounting to the equivalent of a public lynching of his 36 years of ministry and of the black church and its experience of faith. And three, it’s something this nation is not done with yet, not by a long shot. Jim Wallis, editor and founder of Sojourners magazine, said that America’s sin of racism has not even been confessed, much less repented.
Yes, we’ve come a long way: Senator Obama is a sign of the progress that’s been made in the effort to banish racism from this country. Recently, however, an Obama campaign volunteer canvassing for votes in the Midwest received one homeowner’s angry response with alarm: “Why don’t they just hang that darkie from a tree?” We are shocked that such vitriol still exists, even more so that it is expressed so openly. Yet why are we not equally shocked about our apparent inability to discuss our own racism and fears with our sisters and brothers of color?
It has never been easy for anyone to imagine themselves in the shoes and skin of someone else, whose experience of life is so vastly different from our own. Growing up in this country with a skin color other than white still entails an education different from that of most whites, a family situation different from most whites, an expectation of life different from most whites, and thus an experience of this nation and an experience of God different from most whites.
The Christian faith of most people of color dates back to the prophets, including the prophetic teaching of Jesus Christ, who preached liberty for the captives, freedom for the oppressed, release for the prisoners, and compassion for the brokenhearted, as it is written in Isaiah 61. As Rev. Jeremiah Wright proclaimed at the National Press Club it is a prophetic theology of liberation, liberation not only for the captives but also for the captors, not only for the oppressed but also for the oppressors. It is a theology of transformation, of radical, permanent change: changed hearts and minds, changed laws and lives. Ultimately it is a theology of reconciliation, for God does not desire that we be at war, that we hate or abuse each other, but that we be reconciled to one another. (I haven’t heard those words used in sound bite, have you?) Wright declared that this is not only the core of the black religious experience but also of the United Church of Christ.
This is the bedrock of the United Church of Christ, that as disciples of Jesus we all need liberating: from prejudice, fear, greed, hate, and ignorance. These all stand in the way of us seeing one another with the eyes of grace. God has another vision for us. In Genesis we read that God created us, men and women, in the image of God; in the image of God, God created us. All human beings were created in this image, not just some. In this morning’s psalm we read that we were made a little lower than God, crowned with glory and honor, that God is mindful of human beings, that God cares for mortals, even as the universe continues to birth new stars and new galaxies.
God did all this and then also gave all of us dominion over all creation. But what does it mean, to have dominion? The Hebrew word for ‘dominion’ is râdâh, which means to tread down, to subjugate, prevail against, to rule over, to take. Certainly this is what humankind has done to the earth and its peoples. There have been those who have had power and who have power now, who have oppressed, and continue to oppress, those who are different or believed to be inferior to the ones in power. Precious natural resources have been exhausted, and continue to be exhausted, in the quest to subjugate others as well as establish civilizations. It seems more likely that we were intended to manifest God’s rule of peace and justice on earth, having been made a little lower than God. But I don’t believe that God intended, that God desired this manifestation to be oppressive, violent, or abusive. Sometimes the Bible tells us about what God intends, and sometimes it tells us about what actually happened.
This first story of the creation in Genesis 1 is thought to have been written around 500 BCE, after the destruction of Jerusalem in 586, after the Jewish people had been conquered by the Babylonian empire and sent into exile. When a small number of Jews returned home about fifty years later to begin rebuilding their homeland, the stories of creation and of God’s relationship with human beings were written down, in the shadow of domination under a new imperial power, Persia.
The Jewish people knew all about domination, since the time of the Egyptian pharaoh who enslaved them and their descendants to build his empire to the Babylonian, the Persian, and the Assyrian empires, not to mention the Roman Empire of the New Testament, that each brutalized the Jews in their own way. Domination was not the desire of God but it was an extremely harsh reality within which the Jewish people struggled to be faithful.
The Bible is the only book I know of containing the history of a people who were on the losing side of empire. Most histories are written by the winners, the empires, casting themselves in a favorable light, ignoring the stories of those they may have stepped on or even destroyed along the way. Indeed, the whole Bible can be read from beginning to end as a treatise against the evils of empire versus the goodness of the kingdom of God. This is where the black theology of liberation claims its power and its heritage.
People of color know about the evils of empire; most white people don’t. We are the beneficiaries of empire. Even when our government has oppressed white people in some way, some parts of the Patriot Act come to mind, we are willing to overlook it or put up with it. But for people of color oppression can still dominate and permeate their lives. It was a government comprised of white people that enslaved proud African people, with their own culture and long history, and brought them to this country in chains to build an American empire. It was a government of white people who drove indigenous people from their land onto a trail of tears that led to the destruction of their nations and the demoralization of their peoples, all to make room for the American empire. This history doesn’t just go away. I think if this had happened to my ancestors, if they had been considered 3/5 of a person, my outlook would be quite different. When Jeremiah Wright cried out ‘God damn America’, it was not her people he said that God condemned but her empire, her government that continues to oppress, break the hearts of, and imprison people of color ten times more than white people.
God does not bless empire, God condemns it. The United States of America is a descendant of the Roman Empire, that spread its influence to Gaul and the land of the Anglo-Saxons, from which rose the British Empire, from whom this nation was born. From our very beginnings, even as ‘we, the people’ declared that ‘all men are created equal’, we behaved as a domination system, taking, subjugating, treading down the wilderness and its natives.
Today the United States military has over 737 bases or installations in 63 countries worldwide. We are indeed an empire, believing itself to be the only superpower in the world. However, in God’s kingdom power is shared. In Genesis we read that God gives us this dominion, God shares power with us; it is a gift, not a right. And it is given not to a few but to all. To share power means to share what is powerful: an equal education, fair housing, a living wage, justice linked with compassion, and community that embraces each one as a child of God.
Like any nation we are a mix of contradictions. Our government can commit acts of hegemony with impunity, but we the people worry about the people we love, and we see the pain and struggle of our neighbors. Our nation’s influence in the world is beginning to wane, yet we the people have the power to influence the direction of our nation.
Like any church, the United Church of Christ is a mix of contradictions. One preacher’s words can be taken out of context, but not all of us agree with him or with each other. And that’s okay. The majority of our church is white, but we are also African, Hispanic, Latino, Caribbean, Pacific-Islander, Samoan, Native American, and many others.
The conversation, the transformation, the message begins here, in this covenant community where we strive to love one another as Christ has loved us. Our brothers and sisters of color suffer because of the realities of living in an empire, in a dominant white society. What can we do to confess and to repent the sin of racism? How can we reach out in love to ease the suffering, to enact justice, and to embrace everyone as a child of God? God is still creating. How can we create alongside God, with the power that God has given us, to effect radical, permanent change? What holds us captive, how are we oppressed, from what do we need to be freed?
The Body of Christ is segregated and thus, not whole. It begins here, this call to revolutionary love and radical repentance. The church has the power, the power of the Holy Spirit, to disturb the status quo, to effect radical, permanent change in society, if only we will use it. It is not enough that black children and white children hold hands, but that all God’s children, black and white, Israeli and Palestinian, Jew and Arab, Christian and Muslim, Iraqi and American, Darfurian and Sudanese, Chinese and Tibetan, hold hands together as one people on one planet heading toward a common future. It begins here. Amen.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
La Madonna del latte
Amazing as it may seem, there are still people, in this seriously confused country, who are uncomfortable with mothers who breastfeed their babies. Perhaps if we had kept these images of Mary nursing her infant son Jesus we would think it commonplace and women's breasts would not be seen solely as sexual objects.
This one is quite revealing but also realistic, with the slit in the undergarment.
There is nothing like the tender touch of a child.
This one is almost amusing, especially since Mary is dressed like a nun. Some of the iconic work made the breast look like a cone!
A few months ago this one made the cover of The Christian Century.
This one is my favorite. Mary does not look at her audience but at her child with all the fullness of love and devotion. Mary was the first to sacrifice her life for Jesus by carrying him in her body and giving birth to him. She was the first to give what she had to this child, even though one day a sword would piece her heart.
So in honor of Mother's Day and mothers everywhere, here is a selection of artwork through the ages of La Madonna del latte (just don't order it at Starbucks). I apologize for not including their provenance.
A modest portrayal yet see how baby Jesus reaches for his mother, like any other hungry infant.
This one is quite revealing but also realistic, with the slit in the undergarment.
I love this big, strapping baby--thriving because of his mother's milk.
Mary's face is tender and calm, something I could've used when I was a young mother, sometimes trapped on the couch for most of a day because my daughter was so ravenous.
There is nothing like the tender touch of a child.
This one is almost amusing, especially since Mary is dressed like a nun. Some of the iconic work made the breast look like a cone!
A few months ago this one made the cover of The Christian Century.
This one is my favorite. Mary does not look at her audience but at her child with all the fullness of love and devotion. Mary was the first to sacrifice her life for Jesus by carrying him in her body and giving birth to him. She was the first to give what she had to this child, even though one day a sword would piece her heart.
But then, don't all children eventually do this to their parents? And wouldn't we do it all over again anyway?
A happy and blessed Mother's Day to all.
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