CCBlogs thinking critically, living faithfully

NOTE: Here are this week's sermon notes for the Sunday we know as Christ the King or the Reign of Christ Sunday. Join us at 10:30 am if you are in town.

The late Bill Coffin, preacher at the Riverside Church in New York City, used to tell his flock that at the end of time – and that could mean simply our time in this realm or all time in creation – we would find ourselves standing before the Creator, asked to give an accounting for our lives. It will be a test, Coffin said. And then with that incredibly sly and loving smile of his he added, “But it’s an open book test – and Jesus has already given us the answer – if we’re paying attention.”

+ As is too often the case in largely progressive congregations who are sometimes bible-study-phobic, a hush would fall on the church when he said this and then paused for effect: what was this guy talking about?

+ And then he would say: Jesus has already given us the answer to our final exam – you can find it very clearly in Matthew 25 – for the accounting of our life that matters to God has nothing to do with what denomination we belong to, it has nothing to do with what translation of the Bible we use. What’s more, the correct answer to the final exam of our lives is not whether we are Christians or Jews or Muslims, whether we’re gay or straight, rich or poor, faithful or doubters.

No the right answer is: “When did we ever see you hungry and feed you, Lord, thirsty and give you a drink? And when did we ever see you sick or in prison and come to visit you?' And God will say, 'I'm telling the solemn truth: whenever you did one of these things to someone overlooked or ignored – the least of your sisters and brothers – that was me—you did it to me.'”

I think Coffin is right. And what he is saying needs constant repeating: God is to be found most clearly not in our doctrine and theology – as helpful and insightful as they can be – not in our denominations or traditions – as lovely and comforting as they can be – and not in even in the words of Scripture or prayer books and hymns – as energizing and precious as they might be. God is most often to be encountered in our dealings with those who are wounded, in need of love or crying out for compassion. Think about this with me:

+ In Matthew 12 there is a curious story about the time when Christ’s mother grew worried about her son and asked his brothers to go and bring him home. Frankly, she was concerned that all this God talk had gone to his head and that maybe Jesus was a little mentally ill. Mother’s are like that…

+ Do you recall that story? Jesus is preaching and teaching to a crowd when someone tells him that his family is waiting outside the circle and wants to see him. And… what does Jesus say in reply? Do you remember?

+ “Who is my mother – and who are my brothers (and sisters)?” And pointing to his disciples – his students and followers – he said, “Here is my mother and family for whoever does the will of our Creator in heaven is brother and sister and kin to me.”

Do you have any thoughts or reactions? What’s going on inside you as you consider this truth? Let’s be clear: I’m not suggesting that insight and intellectual precision are not important – they are and have their place – and I’m not denigrating tradition or any discrete religious tradition either because they all posses great beauty and power. No, what I am trying to say is that in the end only kindness matters as we take the words of our faith and help them become flesh within and among us.

Do you know the words of NY Times columnist Nicholas Kristof? I enjoy reading both liberal Tom Friedman and conservative David Brooks – I don’t really like Gail Collins or Maureen Dowd because of their penchant for sarcasm – but Kristof is a man of heart and compassion. Not long ago he wrote about Somaly Mam, a young woman from Cambodia who escaped the world of sex slavery and now fights the greed and brutalization that condemns so many young girls to a living hell. Back in September he wrote that he was shocked to learn that Somaly had survived after three years of doing battle with the sex slave captains: “The gangsters who run the brothels have held a gun to her head, and seeing that they could not intimidate Somaly with their threats, they found another way to hurt her: They kidnapped and brutalized her 14-year-old daughter.”

Three years ago, I wrote from Cambodia about a raid Somaly organized on the Chai Hour II brothel where more than 200 girls had been imprisoned. Girls rescued from the brothel were taken to Somaly’s shelter, but the next day gangsters raided the shelter, kidnapped the girls and took them right back to the brothel. Yet Somaly continued her fight, and, with the help of many others, she has registered real progress. Today, she says, the Chai Hour II brothel is shuttered. In large part, so is the Svay Pak brothel area where 12-year-old girls were openly for sale on my first visit. “If you want to buy a virgin, it’s not easy now,” notes Somaly, speaking in English — her fifth language. Somaly’s shelters — where the youngest girl rescued is 4 years old — provide an education and job skills. More important, Somaly applies public and international pressure to push the police to crack down on the worst brothels, and takes brothel owners to court. The idea is to undermine the sex-trafficking business model. (NY Times, 9/24/2008)

It didn’t matter to those children what religion Somaly was – whether she was a conservative evangelical, a lapsed Catholic, a Buddhist, a Hindu or a Jain – because when she was able to bring them out of hell into the land of the living, Somaly was living into the presence of God. In fact, she was all the God they knew – and it was her kindness and compassion that mattered more than anything else.

And here’s where the reality of doubt comes in for me: often it takes a lot of time – and a tremendous about of reflection and hindsight – before we can discern the presence of God in our lives, don’t you think? I mean often in the midst of life – joys or sorrows, clarity or confusion, struggle or even boredom – I’m not at all sure where God is in the midst of things. It is usually only afterwards that I have one of those “aha moments…” and I get a clue.

Bible scholar and pastor, Brian Stoffregen, has written that the Greek word, metanoeo, which we usually translate as repentance or even a change of mind probably miss the deeper truth. Because, he says, the primary meaning of the prefix “meta” is “afterwards.”

So metanoeo as "after-thought" might be equivalent to "hindsight" – looking back and re-evaluating what has happened – discovering that God was present in the situation and then our re-thinking could lead to prayers of thanksgiving. Or, the re-thinking might lead us to discover that what I had thought was a good and righteous act was really a selfish deed which leads to prayers of confession – in which case God is using the deed for God's purpose of confession and forgiveness.

Are you with me on this? Do you see where I’m going? Our times without clarity – our times of doubt – are often seasons when God is at work within and among us but we don’t grasp it. I think that is why the depth psychologist, Carl Jung, used to ask people to recall that these words of Christ about feeding the hungry, visiting the sick, clothing the naked and sharing mercy are just as important to do on the inside – within ourselves – as they are in the outer world, right?

Within most of us – I would say all but I’ve been told that some crusty old New Englanders raised on a steady diet of self-reliance and stoicism would question me on this – there is a place that is naked and cold, alone and afraid, doubting and uncertain. Jung asked us to invite the love of God into those places, too, so that the kingdom of God might bring healing to all.

Because all of us – crusty old New Englanders and rock and roll preachers from the Southwest alike – have doubts and fears and wounds. Most of my life, you see, I have been blessed with the gift of faith – and it is a gift – a blessing shared with me from God. And I know it is a gift because one day about eight years ago, it dried up. It took me a few months to realize and own it but the joy and patience, the hope and happiness that I have known most of my life was gone. I was empty. Alone. Not hurting just dried up and… dead inside.

+ Have you been there? It’s a hard place – especially when most of your life you have been on fire and filled with the gift of faith – and I have to tell you that when I took stock of my inner emptiness, I didn’t know what to do.

+ For a while I tried to figure it out by myself – and as St. Bruce Springsteen has said when it’s you you’re trying to lose, you can do some sad and hurtful things to the ones you love – just ask Dianne – she’s seen living proof.

And I’m talking mean and hurtful things not just sad and empty. Eventually I found my way into some serious and tough spiritual counseling and direction with a tender but very demanding man who kicked me in the butt enough to face myself and my empty, ugly wounds long enough and honestly enough so that one day, sitting by myself watching the sun come up in New Mexico I sensed the dryness start to lift. Not all at once – and I didn’t find my way back into a renewed sense of faith for a while either – but it began to lift.

Now all the while I was in this place of doubt and dryness – my own wandering in the inner wilderness – I kept praying the words of Martin Luther. When Luther was besieged on all sides by princes and politicians out to get him – as well as his own inner demons – he cried, “I have been baptized!” And that was the only prayer I could muster: “I have been baptized.”

+ I have been given to God in the grace of Christ – I have been embraced by the Creator with a love that will set me free and bring me back from the dead even though I don’t believe it – for I have been baptized.

+ This was one of the greatest blessings in my life – a time of authentic healing and cleansing – but I only know that in hindsight. Man, in the midst of it, it was Hell and I hated it and hated everything about myself, my God and my world.

But then, as today’s scripture suggests, God’s grace visited me in my prison and my hunger and my emptiness… and when it was the fullness of time I inherited a taste of the kingdom. I didn’t earn it – I didn’t deserve it – and I certainly didn’t do anything to create it: I just inherited it. It came to me as a gift again and slowly I was filled from the inside out.

This emptiness – or absence – or even darkness is known in the spiritual world as “the via negativa.” Western Christianity and Americans in general are rarely aware or comfortable with this path of spiritual maturity because we tend to believe we have to make our own way and that everything should turn out happy. And even when we know that isn’t true – like when someone dies way too early of cancer or we come face to face with evil or injustice – we still act like creation is all about happy endings. In a word, we favor the “via positiva” – the positive path of spirituality – where there are clear answers and lots of justice to say nothing of an abundance of faith, hope and love.

But just as you cannot have light without the darkness – or hope without despair – you really can’t know the depth of God’s grace with only one way into the kingdom. Doubt and emptiness, spiritual dryness and searching, the inner desert and wilderness is all about the other path into God’s love: the via negativa. The prophet Ezekiel tells us that God comes looking for us as a shepherd – a Good Shepherd – in search of a lost flock:

From now on, I myself am the shepherd. I'm going looking for them. As shepherds go after their flocks when they get scattered, I'm going after my sheep. I'll rescue them from all the places they've been scattered to in the storms. I'll bring them back from foreign peoples, gather them from foreign countries, and bring them back to their home country. I'll feed them on the mountains of Israel, along the streams, among their own people. I'll lead them into lush pasture so they can roam the mountain pastures of Israel, graze at leisure, feed in the rich pastures on the mountains of Israel. And I myself will be the shepherd of my sheep. I myself will make sure they get plenty of rest. I'll go after the lost, I'll collect the strays, I'll doctor the injured, I'll build up the weak ones and oversee the strong ones so they're not exploited.

I believe this is true. In fact, like Mark Twain said when asked about whether he believed in infant baptism or not – believe it, man, I’ve seen it – well, I have too in my own heart and life. But I also know that for many of us it doesn’t happen as much in the light as religion likes to pretend. No, more often than not we discover God’s coming to us with healing and light in the darkness – through hindsight – from the reality of our doubt.

And because this is true, beloved, I have come to trust that even our doubts are part of the good news. So let those who have ears to hear, hear.

What a mix of experiences: this morning I spoke to a colleague's class on the impact of slave music on American culture. I played some spirituals, talked about West African rhythms and song structure and took them on a wild ride - with CDs - from emancipation to jazz and the birth of rock and roll. They were young kids from the Berkshires but I got them singing gospel and the blues and it was lots of fun... blessings abound.

Later in the day I spent three hours with some dear church leaders trying to evaluate our collective work over the past year. Let me tell you that one of the hardest things I have ever experienced in my 27 years of ministry involves that moment when you are working with a committed group of church leaders and they realize that the abstract ideas of change and renewal have to become FLESH.
We had a beautiful, complicated and boldly honest talk tonight (and we'll have another 3 hour talk after Thanksgiving) with a group of lay leaders from my church. They are wonderful and insightful people - deeply committed to God, a liberating and progressive Christian faith and rebuilding our struggling congregation - AND... when it comes to making changes in this dear New England town it is HARD. And I am talking painfully hard... not that it isn't wanted or needed - worship that is eclectic and truly diverse, sermons that are more dialogical than lecture, wrestling with the shadow side of ourselves and the Bible - but as the birth of Jesus makes clear: when the word becomes flesh it is always MESSY. Two examples are notable:

+ How do you make a Victorian sanctuary look welcoming to those not steeped in church culture? We won't even talk about how to bring jazz, rock, country and folk into a faith community that has only known German chorales for a long, long time. How do you make a big, demanding and even ominous space feel inviting - especially to people who are already suspicious of church? That's one of our challenges: someone told me, "God, you are serious about making this place accessible, aren't you?" More than serious - I am committed to accessibility on every level I can imagine - but that means change in the flesh rather than as an intellectual abstract... and that's always messy.

+ How do you create enough momentum towards inclusivity to truly welcome the forgotten and cast away folk AND maintain a place at the table for the old "in" crowd? Its tough for both groups but those of privilege have to be trained to practice radical hospitality or else all this work with worship - joy and fun and depth and new sounds and spiritual wisdom - becomes bullshit. If there really isn't a radical welcome in the spirit of Jesus, those who have been turned away will smell it a mile away... and we won't make it.

I think we will. I love my new church - this new community is committed to becoming a place of hope and light in the 21st century darkness - but it is still really hard for them. This work feels like Cat Power's version of "Satisfaction," all full of promise and longing but still... not there yet. Pray for us...

This is the finest insight into what longing and doubt means... it is from the poet Rumi who helps me understand the via negativa better than anyone else. And Coleman Barks gets it so right that I just HAD to post this tonight.

Another is from my heart-mentor, Robert Bly, who speaks of why our culture has been so sick and silent for so long... I LOVE the way he calls us back into crying out!

And then there is the master's reworking NIN... the man in black himself.

After worship today, so many spoke quiet words of thanks that I had given voice and permission to their doubts and fears and longings all within the bounds of a faith community. More to come.

So there was a retraction... printed in small print in the NY Times that Fr. Jay Scott Newman of South Carolina had to take back his ban on Holy Communion for those who voted for Obama. And while his Bishop said every person had to explore his/her own conscience on this matter, it was still a retraction: and in these days that is a blessing.

Ok, this makes me sick: I'm finishing up my prayers for the night - looking at the events of the world as a way of staying in touch - when I come across this article about a priest in South Carolina who has written to his church saying that they can't take communion if they voted for Obama! No shit... just the facts, ma'am. The Rev. Jay Scott Newman said in a letter distributed Sunday to parishioners at St. Mary's Catholic Church in Greenville:

"that they are putting their souls at risk if they take Holy Communion before doing penance for their vote. 'Our nation has chosen for its chief executive the most radical pro-abortion politician ever to serve in the United States Senate or to run for president," Newman wrote, referring to Obama by his full name, including his middle name of Hussein." (http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/27705755/?gt1=43001)

Add this to the religious bigots who stole the right to get married from our sisters and brothers in California on November 4th and its enough to despair.. and when I get that sick of my sisters and brothers in the wider family of faith there's only one place to go: St. Lou Reed. Man, does he cut to the chase in "Bus Load of Faith to Get By!"


Now I mostly go to St. Lou because we're both so "old school" that I can trust his groove. But another new group gets it right, too, The Used who come at this whole thing from a totally different angle but end up in the same place: And it's all in how you mix the two, and it starts just where the light exists. It's a feeling that you cannot miss, and it burns a hole, through everyone that feels it. Well your never gonna find it, if your looking for it, won't come your way, well you'll never find it, if your looking for it.


With all the ugly religious attitude I'm glad there are those who remind us that "in the end only KINDNESS matters."

NOTE: As is my custom, these are this Sunday's sermon notes which I share because... that's what I do. If you are in Pittsfield, MA at 10:30 am this week, stop by. It would be fun to see you.

“Doubt is the beginning – not the end – of wisdom” an old sage once told me. The French philosopher, Voltaire, believed that, “while doubt is uncomfortable, certainty is ridiculous.” Paul Tillich trusted that “Doubt is not the opposite of faith, but rather one important element of it.” And Vaclav Havel, poet, playwright and the first president of a free Czech Republic, has found that often, “It is the moment of most profound doubt that gives birth to new certainties: Perhaps hopelessness is the very soil that nourishes human hope; perhaps no one ever finds sense in life without first experiencing absurdity?”

Why, then, do so many Christians – progressive and fundamentalist alike – think that doubt is destructive – the antithesis of faith – and something to be battled rather than embraced? Let’s face it: some of the greatest heroes of the Bible have been filled with doubt – and it served them well.

+ We start with Abraham and Sarah who had no idea where God was leading them when they left the security of their tradition for the blessings of the Promised Land – who had no reason to trust that God would bring the fruit of a new child to Sarah’s ancient womb – who, in fact, laughed at God’s promise and doubted God’s word, but who came to represent the very essence of our faith tradition – the mother and father of a new people – born of doubt and trust and God’s amazing presence.

+ We move to Moses – slow of speech and uncertain of his abilities – who kept pleading with God for clarity over and over again and came to experience the Lord’s presence as a pillar of cloud by day and a fire by night.

+ Think of the Psalmist weeping, “How long, O Lord, how long must we sing our song in exile and emptiness?” Or Job – or the prophet Jeremiah in his despair?

Even Jesus on the Cross crying out, “My God, my God why hast thou forsaken me?” Peter was often filled with doubt, Paul certainly had times when he was totally in the dark, Mary and Martha challenged the Lord with their doubts after the death of their brother Lazarus and on and on it goes. Doubt, raising questions and refusing to swallow the simple minded solutions of priests, ministers and other peddlers of orthodoxy is at the heart of our Judeo-Christian tradition.

And yet so very often and in so many tragic ways our doubts and questions are either trivialized – so that we feel stupid and unworthy – or turned back against us to keep us in our place so that more and more people are coming to the conclusion that while they may be spiritual, they certainly aren’t religious. Because religion has given doubt a bad name.

Philip Yancey, the very thoughtful and tender evangelical author of books such as Where Is God When It Hurts?, What’s So Amazing About Grace and Does Prayer Make Any Difference?, tells the story of one of his friends who was hospitalized with cancer that seemed to come out of nowhere. Her husband was traumatized as she went under the knife for emergency surgery and then perplexed and angry as she failed to respond to the chemo and radiation treatments. (Please note: this is my less than poetic paraphrase because I can't find his book; please forgive any excess because Yancey's words are much better than mine.)

But what made this dreadful experience even worse were the people from their church – good and loving people – who said some of the most stupid and hurtful things all in the name of being helpful. One woman came to visit and after a short time told the couple to keep praying – and being faithful – because God hears all the prayers of those whose faith is strong. Talk about adding insult to injury, yes? And when the woman with the cancer asked, “What does it mean if my tumor isn’t healed?” she was told – no joke – “well, then clearly your faith was not strong enough.”

Another woman visited – one prone to New Age thinking – chatted and carried on like there was nothing wrong with her friend. After about 30 minutes of this fluff, however, her husband said, “Why are you babbling on and on about stuff that doesn’t matter when Ellen is facing death?” only to be told: “Stop being so negative – that’s where the cancer comes from – negativity. Just be positive and she will all be alright!”
But the final blow came when their pastor visited. Like many of us, his heart was in the right place, he truly loved his flock and he believed in God’s love and power. So as they were talking after a treatment and Ellen’s husband asked how he could make sense out of his grief and fear – if not his anger with God – the pastor said: “Jeff, look, we don’t always understand the ways of the Lord. The prophet Isaiah tells us that ‘my ways aren’t your ways saith the Lord’ and I trust that.”

That isn’t so bad – not really helpful – but at least it is something that makes some sense: there is a mysterious aspect to God that we can’t always grasp because… we aren’t God. Lots of people say that and while it doesn’t do anything to help a person with their doubts and fears, usually it doesn’t do any harm (which is always a good rule, yes?) But that damned minister went on to say – and I am certain that he should be damned for this – that “the scripture also tells us in Deuteronomy 28 that “if you will only obey the Lord your God by diligently observing all his commandments… blessings shall come upon you and overtake you… but if you will not obey the Lord your God… then curses shall come and overtake you.’ So tell me, Jeff, could it be that there is some sin you haven’t confessed or repented of – or maybe Ellen – that is at the core of this cancer?”

I’m with Jeremiah Wright on this one: God damn him – God damn him to hell! What an ugly and misguided – dare I say destructive – misinterpretation of Scripture – all in the context of a pastoral visit! But, you see, that’s what you get from a religious tradition that is afraid and unfamiliar with doubt and ambiguity.

And I am sad to say, that’s what has happened to a lot of American Christianity over the years as we have uncritically embraced the theology of a 16th century genius, John Calvin, without discerning what rings true for 21st century living. Let me give you the genesis of what has become the simplistic understanding of a Reformed Theology of suffering because I have come to believe that this is where our problems with doubt originate.

Now you have to recall that for Brother Calvin, who began his work as a French Roman Catholic studying to be a lawyer but who later experienced a spiritual conversion that led him into the emerging Protestant Church, the world was not a safe place. Protestants were considered heretics in France and Calvin had to go into hiding in fear for his life. Eventually he had to flee his homeland for Germany and finally Geneva, Switzerland.

These were tumultuous times – the Spanish Inquisition was moving into high gear – and to make matters worse, Calvin came to experience great physical pain – migraines, lung hemorrhages, gout and kidney stones. So, in the midst of pain and chaos – political and theological controversy – Calvin came to write a theology of suffering and God’s place in it that eliminated doubt as well as ambiguity. In a word, he needed to both understand and believe that God was in control of all things – good and bad, heaven and earth – for this would help him face the challenges of every day. And the heart of what Calvin conceptualized can be summarized like this:

+ When there is pain and trouble in our lives, sometimes it is the result of sin that needs to be confessed and faced honestly.

+ Sometimes God brings pain and suffering into our lives so that others might see how to bear it with grace and dignity – that is, sometimes we are a living Bible for another with less faith.

+ Sometimes our anguish is to test and deepen our faith – like the story of Job. And when it is none of these, Calvin noted, then we must claim the mystery of the Lord whose ways are not our ways and whose thoughts are not our thoughts.

Is that clear? Four clearly stated reasons for pain and suffering in Calvin’s theology – all articulated to remove ambiguity and doubt from our daily life – and all conceived of as a way to grace and trust for they all point to God’s loving control of creation even if we do not fully grasp the reason why.

Now it could be that these reasons still work for some of you – it could be that the old ways still seem the best – but I have to tell you I am with the Massachusetts hymn writer, James Lowell, who in 1845 wrote, “new occasions teach new duties, time makes ancient truth uncouth.” Because Calvin’s image and theology of God just doesn’t work for me – it is too narrow, too judgmental and too void of Christ’s grace – and it causes too much needless suffering and guilt in our 21st century world.

Cut to the gospel for this day from Matthew 25 and perhaps we can discern a nuance that will help us come to embrace and maybe even celebrate our doubts and fears as part of the pathway to faith in real life. This parable – about the three servants given talents by their master – has been worked to death in what I think of as boring and pedantic ways over the years. But it can be a truly fascinating glimpse into the way of Christ’s grace and the role doubt plays in experiencing it.

Let’s quickly summarize the action for one another (invite the people to retell the parable) because we all need to start at the same place. Ok, now let’s consider what these symbols are suggesting – and right out of the gate we have to understand that a talent was not a skill or ability but rather a large sum of money. The historians tell us that one talent equaled 76 pounds of silver – roughly the equivalent of 20 years of wages – so two talents is 40 years of wages and five talents meant a free ride for 100 years. So this is all about the master’s generosity, ok? God’s generosity is point one.

Second we have to be certain to grasp that these talents were gifts – not a loan or an investment – they were flat out gifts of generosity that became the property of each of the servants. So what becomes really interesting to me is how these gifts were used: we’re not talking about salvation or grace which God gives to us all equally and freely; rather we’re talking about how the first two servants used their gifts according to their ability – creatively, with curiosity, even a willingness to take some risks – while the other was passive – even lazy – which suggests that being good and faithful has something to do with taking initiative even when we don’t know the consequences.

The first two took their gift and did something with it – they didn’t have to and it was risky – but rather than bury it, they stepped beyond what was safe… and found blessing. And the master called them good and faithful while the other who played it safe was called lazy and stupid. What’s more, one commentator goes so far as to say this: the two creative risk-takers began with a sense that the master was generous and so they multiplied the miracle and entered into joy while the third saw his master as harsh, acted out of fear and wound up in the eternal darkness. Author, Robert Capon, puts it like this:

If we are ever to enter fully into the glorious liberty of the sons and daughters of God, we are going to have to spend more time thinking about freedom than we do. The church, by and large, has had a poor record of encouraging freedom. She has spent so much time inculcating in us the fear of making mistakes that she had made us like ill-taught piano students; we play our songs, but we never really hear them, because our main concern is not to make music, but to avoid some flub that will get us in trouble (page 148). Cited in Brian Stoffregen’s CrossMarks.

Now let me bring this home: For far too long our doubts have not been celebrated or given permission to mature because both our theology and tradition has been too narrow. Calvin did his best in the old days – and still has new insights to teach – but we have to dump that old God of judgment and fear or we’ll never find out what joy our doubts point towards. In fact, if we remain in the gloom of a religion of obligation and fear, we will get exactly what the third servant received: eternal darkness – not joy, not new blessings, not hope or the wedding banquet – just the emptiness of fear and ignorance.

There is much to learn from our doubts – they are in fact a way of actually listening to the voice of our Living God – and I will talk about that next week. But for now the words of Rabbi Brad Hirschfield shall be enough:

Before we start engaging people in grand declarations about how they ought to feel, I would settle for a year of teaching the faithful in every community about the sacredness of modesty, humility questioning, and even doubt as expressions of real faith. When people experience that posture as rooted in the depths of the tradition they love, be it a faith, philosophy or politics, fewer people around the world will die in the names of those traditions… and that would be more than enough for most of us, I think, at least for now.

I’m with you, Rabbi, so let those who have ears to hear: hear.

Last night our band, "Between the Banks," practiced for a local TV shoot. A colleague minister from another town wanted to join us - she's always wanted to sing in a rock band and heard us at a recent gig - and asked if there was room for another female vocalist... so I invited her to stop by and she did. Lots of fun and she fit in with our odd little group pretty well so I think she'll be joining us from time to time when her schedule allows.

We'll be doing a set of mostly songs we've worked on before - Cat Power, Joan Osborne, U2, Over the Rhine, Josh Ritter, Paul Simon and the Eels plus a few country gospel tunes and Rumi poems - so maybe I'll finally have a cut or two to finally post here. Great fun. Even one of my own tunes, too!

One of the blessings that came about, however, had to do with the insights and songs a new person can bring into the mix. Our new mate asked about Belle and Sebastian, Peter Gabriel and others... taking me back into new songs and out of my comfort zone. Thanks be to God!

This song by Belle and Sebastian, for example, is a very interesting take on how most young, hip, educated folk find most of what happens in the church. It's called "If You're Feeling Sinister" and includes the line: But if you are feeling sinister go off and see a minister he'll try in vain to take away the pain of being a hopeless unbeliever.

THIS is part of what the still speaking God is saying to the church if we had ears to hear! I hope to be including songs like this on a new local TV show I'll be starting soon about music and spirituality. More as it unfolds at the start of Advent.

After we got home - and I reviewed and revised our set list - it hit me that we had to include this poem followed by Josh Ritter's incredible, "Girl in the War." Di and I will do it as a duet. It has to be one of the best ever written.

I AM NOT – Anja Sladek

I am not a pessimist
But this work is dark
And I do not see the dawn.

I am not a traitor
But I cannot love my country
Whilst friends are being killed.

I am not optimistic
But I cannot help but feel
That there must be something better.

I am not a believer
But I find myself praying
For God in the evening.

I am not a poet
But I must write this down
And make somebody read.

I am not a coward
But I am very afraid
Of what will happen next.

The great Miriam Makeba went home on Sunday after singing a concert in Italy. She was 76 - and what a legacy she has shared with the world! A South African vocalist who was as comfortable in English or her native Xhosa as well as "Portuguese and Yiddish" (Jon Pareles, NY Times) she sang of love rather than protest but the lament and anguish in her voice spoke volumes about what it means to suffer.

I remember loving her international hit, "Pata, Pata (the Click Song)" in 1967. She had already had her passport revoked by the apartheid government of South Africa and performed with Dr. King in the USA as part of the freedom movement. She married Stokley Carmichael - who became the inspiration for the Black Panthers while coordinating Mississippi summer for the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee in 1964 - and came to embody what it mean to be "black and proud." "Prohibited from returning to South Africa, she settled instead in Guinea, in West Africa, where she participated in that country's government-assisted movement toward musical 'authenticite' - merging traditional styles with new instruments - and let her already vast repertory stretch further."

My reconnection with her music came through brother Paul Simon who enlisted her help during his 1987 "Graceland" tour which brought the music of South Africa - and their struggle - to new heights. Her reworking of Linda Ronstadt's part on "Under African Skies" is so moving I recently used it on this blog as a model of what might be should the US finally bring the Civil War to a close (which we did on Tuesday, November 4th, 2008!)

Nelson Mandela said, "she was the mother of our struggle and truly the first lady of South African song." Take a listen to Simon's introduction and then give thanks to "Moma Afrika" as she sings her heart out (Hugh Masekela, too!) May she rest in peace...

Tomorrow is Veteran's Day in the US and while I give thanks that the youngest vet in my church is now at home and safely out of harm's way for the holidays, I love a bunch of other women and men in uniform who are not at home - and a few who never made it home. I want to remember them all - the living and the dead - and hold them close in my prayers. Daniel Hope's arrangement of Ravel's "Kaddish" does this for me...

This may be one of the most sensual laments I have ever heard. I know some folks think Bruce is waaay over rated but man can this guy cook when he's in a groove! When I was in the midst of a totally broken relationship - and everything felt like it was turning to shit all around me - I stole away to Detroit one night and heard the Boss and his band play this song back in the 1980s and it saved my soul. Sure, there were lots of other ass-kicking songs, too like "Because the Night" and "Darkness at the Edge of Town" but his cover of "Trapped" changed everything for me.
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They say in AA that religion is for people who believe in hell, but spirituality is for those who have been there - and this song gets it right. It shares what hell feels like and helped me name it, too. Some of my old addict friends in Cleveland - guys from Vietnam who are still fighting their inner terrors - tell me that this song gets it right and they wouldn't bullshit you if their lives depended on it.

So I simply share it with you tonight knowing that somebody out there is feeling trapped -maybe you are thinking there is nobody out there who feels what you do - and that everything is turning to shit. Sometimes music can can help us name what's going on inside - in that way it is like a prayer - and when that happens - be it joy or sorrow - it reminds us that we're not in this all by ourselves... and that is part of the way into hope and healing. So, listen to this and let me know what you think, ok?

After the recent news of the defeat of equal protection in marriage - Proposition 8 - in California, my friends in the United Church of Christ shared this full page ad in a number of LGBT publications in California as a sign of solidarity. Thanks be to God... oh deep in my heart, I do believe that we shall overcome someday.

"We stood with you in saying no to Proposition 8 and we will continue to stand with you, both in disappoint and resolve, until marriage equality is realized."
John Thomas, General Minister and President, United Church of Christ

WE UNITE IN SOLIDARITY

Once again, through California's Proposition 8, the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender community has endured an onslaught of lies and deceipt. This hurtful ballot initiative has demeaned the lives, relationships and families of our LGBT sisters and brothers.

Many members, clergy and congregations in the 1.2 million-member United Church of Christ - in California and across the United States - participated in the unprecedented effort to affirm marriage equality for all. People of faith, including many in the UCC, offered significant leadership, time and dollars.

Now is the time to attend to each other with love and compassion, and may the solidarity we share strengthen us for the challenging journey that lies ahead.

Sometimes a "wee" vacation is just what the doctor ordered - and while I am not aware of any immediate need of a doctor, we were both in need of some rest and away time from church - and Providence, RI was a delightful retreat. We wandered through the streets of the old city - Benevolent and Benificent Streets - marvelling at the restored Federalist homes. We found GREAT cheap Middle Eastern food - I ate goat for the first time - explored the classical and contemporary art at the Rhode Island School of Design art museum and visited old book shops, too. In a word, it was the perfect time away: quiet, surrounded by the arts and lots of interesting people (when we wanted to visit) as well as lots of sleep and conversation.

We've been friends and lovers for 15 years so this was an anniversary of sorts - a blessed way to mark our ups and downs - and return thanks while renewing our connection. And is the fresh seafood in Providence a treat!!!!!! OMG!

After marking our together-time, we thought we might find a place to go dancing. We've been in the beautiful Berkshires for 14 months and STILL have not found a place to go dancing. (NOTE: in Tucson we went out at least once a week to a beloved little dive known as the Chicago Bar but apparently New Englanders are more inhibited than their friends in the desert Southwest because we have yet to find a place to really rock out!)
Our first venue in Providence turned out to be an upscale dump for the VERY young Goth crowd - not my scene although I appreciate the kids verve - so we wandered into a very funny and rude novelty shop before getting up our courage to try a place call "Silvio's." I had visions of Tony Soprano dancing in my head... and when we finally made our way into the club... it was too funny. Lots and lots of folks dressed like John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever aching to get laid. They were having fun and dancing pretty well but... there was this ancient "radio personality" who was so far over the hill - and without a funny bone in his body - that it became painful. We got to dance one shake your booty number -"Some Kind of Wonderful" - and cheered for the local women in a twist contest before deciding that maybe the Lord doesn't want us to dance anymore! Or else start something locally because it was just too weird.
Today we wound our way home through Eastern Massachusetts with craft fairs and little country church bazaars and shared lots of conversation and pretty autumn leaves. As I was getting ready for sleep last night, I came across these words by Frederick Buechner that touched me last year but then were completely forgotten. They are still good today especially in light of our away time:
Grace is something you can never get but only be given. There's no way to earn it or deserve it or bring it about any more than you can deserve the taste of raspberries and cream or earn good looks or bring about your own birth. A good sleep is grace and so are good dreams. Most tears are grace. The smell of rain is grace. Somebody loving you is grace. Loving somebody is grace. Have you ever tried to love somebody...
The grace of God means something like: here is your life - you might never have been, but you are because the party wouldn't have been complete without you. Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don't be afraid. I am with you. Nothing can ever separate us. It's for you. I created the universe. I love you. There's only one catch: like any other gift, the gift of grace can be yours only if you'll reach out and take it. Maybe being able to reach out and take it is a gift, too.
I am grateful for the grace in my life that Dianne has shared with me - and give thanks to God.

NOTE: Here are this week's sermon notes written in the awe of yesterday's historic election in the United States. I hope if you are in town and would like to stop by, you will join us at 10:30 am on Sunday, November 9th 2008.

It regularly astounds me how the words of our scripture so often relate to the reality of our lives. It almost doesn’t matter whether it is something public or private, political or personal because, once you start listening for the word of the Lord in your life, when the Spirit says “jump,” you do it! Once you have eyes to see or ears to hear, you are awakened and no longer confuse the darkness for the light.

+ And that’s what struck me watching the Presidential election returns on Tuesday with those incredibly long lines and the almost sacramental sense that people brought to the marking of their ballots: there was an awakening.

+ Not the bestowal of God’s favor upon one political party or another – such crude and even blasphemous mumbo jumbo about this or that Moral Majority is always dangerous – just an awakening.

For you see, it was just 40 years ago that the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. reclaimed the words of the prophet Amos for America: I hate and despise your festivals and solemn assemblies… take away from me the noise of your celebrations… and let justice roll down among you like waters and compassion like an ever-flowing stream. Forty years ago – a biblical number, yes – suggesting something about wandering in the wilderness and fasting, floating on the flood and temptations in the desert.

Forty years of watching, waiting and wondering… and then an awakening – an awakening the Jewish prophet to our generation, Thomas Friedman, put like this: And so it came to pass that on November 4th 2008, shortly after 10 pm Eastern Standard Time, the American Civil War ended as a black man… won enough electoral votes to become president of the United States.

I must tell you that I never thought I would live to see this day – and I am not talking about whether your political party won or lost. It really does not matter to me whether you are a Republican or a Democrat – a socialist or a capitalist – a liberal, a conservative, a neo-con or a technocrat. People will always have differences and disagreements which is why Jesus was explicit in training his disciples:

You're familiar with the old written law, 'Love your friend,' and its unwritten companion, 'Hate your enemy?' I'm challenging that. I'm telling you to love your enemies. Let them bring out the best in you, not the worst. When someone gives you a hard time, respond with the energies of prayer, for then you are working out of your true selves, your God-created selves. This is what God does, gives his best—the sun to warm and the rain to nourish—to everyone, regardless: the good and bad, the nice and nasty. If all you do is love the lovable, do you expect a bonus? Anybody can do that. If you simply say hello to those who greet you, do you expect a medal? Any run-of-the-mill sinner does that. "In a word, what I'm saying is, grow up. You're kingdom subjects. Now live like it. Live out your God-created identity. Live generously and graciously toward others, the way God lives toward you.

And that is what Friedman noted in The New York Times – growing up – what I call an awakening. It’s what brought tears to the eyes of Jesse and Oprah in Chicago’s Grant Park, it’s what empowered Senator McCain to be so gracious and hopeful in his concession speech and it’s what inspired even the pundits on both Fox News and MSNBC (and I watched them both) to sit in quiet and reverent awe as America was awakened. Friedman wrote:

Our Civil War may have been decided by the battle of Gettysburg, PA in 1863… but it was concluded 145 years later via the ballot box in that same state… In his famous Gettysburg Address, President Lincoln urged every American to take on “the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far nobly advanced.” That work remained unfinished… for a century and a half: for despite decades of civil rights legislation, judicial interventions and social activism – despite Brown v. Board of Education, Martin Luther King’s crusade and the 1964 Civil Rights Act – the Civil War could never truly be said to be over until America’s white majority actually elected an African- American as president. And this is what happened and that is why we wake up to a different country.

Like I said: there has been an awakening – not perfect, not complete – but clearly connected to justice rolling down like waters and compassion bubbling over like an ever-flowing stream in the desert.

Now, by invoking the words of the prophet Amos, let’s be clear what is at stake. In his day, 750 years before the birth of Jesus, Amos was a simple shepherd who became enraged over the disparity of wealth in ancient Israel. The rich were getting richer, they were literally selling their poor relatives into slavery and they were flirting with serving other gods: greed, sensuality and moral decadence. What’s more, they publically dressed up their selfishness in the words of the Bible, claiming they were honoring God while hating and wounding their own citizens in vicious and mean-spirited acts of gluttony, dissipation and excess. So, this simple farmer and goat herder experienced an awakening in the midst of the injustice and violence and went to the source of the trouble saying:
I can't stand your religious meetings. I'm fed up with your conferences and conventions and I want nothing to do with your religion projects, your pretentious slogans and goals. I'm sick of your fund-raising schemes, your public relations and image making and I've had all I can take of your noisy ego-music. When was the last time you sang to me, the Lord, your God? Do you know what I want? I want justice—oceans of it. I want fairness—rivers of it. That's what I want – and that’s all I want!

I think that is what Jesus wanted, too. If you look carefully at today’s odd little parable about the 10 bridesmaids with oil lamps, there are two symbols that cry out for interpretation: the bridesmaids and the oil.

+ Scholars suggest that a bridesmaid – literally parthenoi – means a young, pure woman awaiting her wedding – a virgin – one who is chaste and clean and ready to be faithful.

+ In his correspondence with the church in Corinth, St. Paul speaks of those who are faithful disciples of Jesus as chaste virgins – women and men dedicated to one lover – in this case God.

+ Contrast this with how the prophet Hosea speaks of those who sell themselves to the highest bidder, ransom off their deepest commitments to convenience and trade their first love for spiritual compromise: do you remember what word he used? Harlots – whores – those who are wounded and defiled rather than spiritually faithful.

Now let me offer a quick aside here: I’m not very comfortable calling people spiritual virgins or whores. I don’t think such words help any of us advance the cause of getting closer to God but these are the symbols our ancestors used so we have to at least understand them and grasp the truth they point us towards, yes? Ok, so much for bridesmaids – now what about that oil?

There has been real division and confusion throughout the centuries about what the oil in the lanterns represent: some have said faith, some have suggested good works and others think that the oil has something to do with spiritual inspiration. And I am of a mind to side with the latter group and say that the oil in this parable has something to do with spiritual power or even intimacy with God. Think about it:

+ Some of the bridesmaids in this story are foolish and they don’t take time to fill their lamps, right? They don’t nourish their inner lives – they choose not to see the suffering all around them – so they wind up in the dark.

+ And what does darkness often symbolize in the gospels? Ignorance, right? Moral confusion. Spiritual emptiness.

+ The others, however, were wise –prepared – they took their oil with them so that at midnight they were able to make sense out of the darkness and respond. And when the cry, “Here comes the bridegroom” was proclaimed, they were ready, willing and able to do what? Go to the wedding banquet… that other great symbol of blessing and grace and justice and compassion.

America was awakened last week – inspired to grow up – to move beyond our fears and differences toward the light of the wedding banquet. Not the final banquet – and not the only banquet – but a banquet nourished by equality, hope and love. Forty years ago, Dr. King said, “The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.” He continued:

Today our scientific power has outrun our moral power and we have become a nation of guided missiles and misguided men… Like an unchecked cancer, hate corrodes the personality and eats away its vital unity. Hate destroys a man's sense of values and his objectivity. It causes him to describe the beautiful as ugly and the ugly as beautiful, and to confuse the true with the false and the false with the true…. But because we are caught in the inescapable web of mutuality… I choose to live a life of love (understanding) that hatred paralyzes life, while love releases it. Hatred confuses life, while love harmonizes it. Hatred darkens life but love illuminates it.

This is the challenge of our awakening: what God has inspired, we must nurture. What God has illuminated, we must cultivate beginning with justice, to be sure, but including naming cruelty when we see it, confronting greed and avarice and nourishing real intimacy with the Lord. For in this we will learn to see the face of Jesus in our neighbors as well in those strangers who do not yet look or act or even speak like we do, but whom God has already sent into our lives for the sake of embodied hospitality.

There is an old story told by the ancient Rabbi about how his students once asked how they could tell when the night had ended and the day had begun. “Could it be,” asked one, “when you can see an animal in the distance and tell whether it’s a sheep or a dog?” No said the wise one. Another asked, “Is it when you can look at a tree in the distance and tell whether it’s a fig or peach tree?” And again the Rabbi answered no.

“Well, then,” they all demanded, “when can you tell that the night has ended and the day begun?” And the Rabbi said, “It is when you can look into the face of any man or woman and see that it is your sister or brother. Because until you can see this, it is still night.” And that is the good news for today.

(NOTE: Does this every say it ALL! Me, too, Jesse, me too!)

As I watched the multi-ethnic, multi-racial and multi-class celebration in Grant Park tonight I had two thoughts: One, every now and again, we step up to the challenge and embrace God's vision for us that overcomes division and fear and hatred as the Apocalypse of John reminds us.

And two, it is time to say good-bye to the old America and embrace the new - it will be more challenging and even more work - but it will also be blessed. It was a beautiful day.. hard and not without its confusion... but still beautiful.

I am moved by God's gracious presence every time I hear this song - especially this version with Miriam Makeba from South Africa. It speaks to me of how we could be together - it takes work and practice, learning and listening, taking risks and making mistakes - and trusting in a vision greater than ourselves and our little minds and hearts. But that greater vision resonates in us all no matter how old or wounded or afraid...

So I hope and pray - sing and trust - and remember how it could be and ask God's blessing on us all tomorrow as we in the USA go to the polls. We have some wicked challenges at home and abroad... I pray that we might all remember the cost of freedom.

I have deep convictions about what is right in the up-coming US Presidential race. And while I am studiously non-partisan in my role as church pastor, privately I am vigorously pro-Obama and have no difficulty sharing the many reasons why I hold this conviction with those who ask (but you have to ask because most of the time I'm either prayerful about the whole thing or... laughing like this Jib Jab.)

That said, I often lament the ways campaigns fuel the culture wars and seek to polarize rather than unite. I know, I know... that is part of the nature of partisan politics and I confess I appreciate our politics for what they offer. Still, they are incomplete - often mean-spirited - and not where I choose to spend most of my time or creativity. One of my new artist friends in the Berkshires, a talented pianist and writer, Jessica Roemischer, who has played some gigs with us at church recently sent me the following note with a link to an interview she recently conducted with Don Beck which starts out:

As I’ve watched the presidential campaign unfold in my living room, I’ve become increasingly unsettled by the cultural schism it’s revealing. Robo-calls from John McCain, caustic opinion pieces on Sarah Palin (often by women), FOX news, MSNBC, negative campaigning—Left and Right. In this highly charged atmosphere, it’s been difficult to make sense of things. I’ve even questioned my longstanding allegiance to the Democratic Party, which has made it challenging to find common ground with friends I’ve known for years. In search of a different perspective on the election, I was compelled to seek out global activist, Dr. Don E. Beck, whom I interviewed in 2002 for What is Enlightenment? Magazine.

For over forty years, Don Beck has worked to facilitate social change in some of the world’s most polarized environments—notably apartheid South Africa during the 1980’s and ‘90’s, and currently in Israel/Palestine. Don Beck really gets human beings and our widely varying habitats and worldviews. With striking clarity and a disarming optimism, he illuminates the rich and complex mosaic of cultures, as he presents practical solutions to seemingly intractable problems—terrorism, the Iraq War, the AIDS epidemic. Beck’s unique perspective—the basis of the evolutionary theory called Spiral Dynamics—allows him to craft effective protocols where others fail.

Don Beck is a social scientist of a different order. For that reason he has advised world leaders such as Nelson Mandela and F.W. deKlerk; he has met with Tony Blair’s cabinet and with the Mexican government, among many others. I knew we needed his view in America at this critical juncture. In response to my request, Don graciously granted the following interview. True to form, he goes to the heart of the matter—and our divided nation—as he reveals how our next president can emerge as the truly new kind of leader we so urgently need.

I don't affirm everything Don says but appreciate his perspective and insight... and in the closing days of this race thought you might, too. If you would like to read more, please go to: http://jessicaroemischer.blogspot.com/

And who can forget THESE great guys who made the most out of the Florida debacle in 2000?

I received a fascinating offer earlier this week: the production director of our local public access television station stopped by to ask if I would be interested in doing a weekly show - and they would show our Sunday worship, too. Now there are two things that really intrigue me about this. First, people in the Berkshires REALLY watch public access TV - I can't tell you how many times conversations have grown out of things people have seen on our three public access channels - so this would be a great way to connect with the wider community.

And second, it would be an opportunity to explore what IMAGE editor, Gregory Wolfe, and writer, Annie Dillard, call the "pile-up" - that place where art/beauty/religion meet and sometimes collide. He writes: The more I have worked in the realm where faith and culture meet, the more I have become aware of the tradition of Christian Humanism. I am well aware that the word humanism strikes many people as inherently anti-religious—we’ve all heard the word modified by “secular” for so long.
But this is one of history’s little—or perhaps big—ironies. Because the truth is that the Judeo-Christian tradition in the West gave birth to humanism: to the sense that every individual life in infinitely important, that our humanity is in fact an image of divinity, and that the culture-making capacity of humankind is the key way in which we both understand and express our sense of transcendent mystery... (I really mean "Religious Humanism" because my quest...) really refers to Jewish Humanism, Christian Humanism and Islamic Humanism. However one might want to argue the truth claims of these faiths, the strands of humanism that run through each of them have much to say to one another. And perhaps never more urgently than in our own time.
So wouldn't it be a challenge - an honor and sacred privilege (and a whole lotta fun, too) - to do a weekly show that explores how the phony sacred/secular divide needs to be buried once and for all while inviting local artists and people of faith to share their wisdom, questions, creations and insights? I think it would be a total gas!
Take, for example, this creation by artist, Laura Fisher Smith, who has given birth to icons of the homeless (which appears on the Episcopal Cafe's "Art Blog" - http://www.episcopalcafe.com/art/art/) If art reflects the people who lived during the time of its creation, then Laura Fisher Smith's icons should give each of us cause to stop and re-evaluate our priorities. Art records the evidence of a society's existence. Smith's icons of the homeless, such as the one seen above, proclaim what she values most, and bluntly reveal her concern for the marginalized, the sick and the needy. With a creative vision filled with both mercy and advocacy, she paints individual persons who are homeless with a dignity and grace once reserved for saints. And this is just the tip of the iceberg as I think of the artists in the area - the poets and painter, musicians of every variety as well as sculptors, dancers and writers - who would be great to meet in a way that helped us all go deeper. Classical violinist, Daniel Hope, recently put it like this about the insights he has gained after working with world musicians of different nations and genres: "There are so many wonderful, wonderful musicians in the world, I cannot possibly make a distinction between the fact that they might play classical music, or bluegrass, or Irish traditional, or Indian music... and if one is open enough to meet them halfway, that's when it gets really interesting." (http://api.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=96046890)
Let's see what happens as we keep our eyes open for another way for the word to become flesh and dwell among full of truth and grace.

Thirty two years ago, my first child was born in Los Angeles amidst a Farm Worker campaign. As has been her way since that day, she took her time coming into this world - about 36 hours of labor - and then she chose not to nurse for a bit, too. She has always been her own person and always operated on her own timetable. She is brilliant, sensitive, beautiful, so damn funny I can't control myself and one of the truly sweetest people I have ever met. It is a privilege to be her Dad.

Over the years we've danced to Elton John (when she was a baby I would rock her to sleep to "Bennie and the Jets" and Joan Armatrading's "Love and Affection.") and the Stones (she went to see them with me in Cleveland.) She is a hard core Springsteen fan but helped me appreciate both U2 and Iron and Wine. Her first concert, before turning 1, was the first Bread and Roses gig in Berkley with Odetta, Tom Paxton, Joan Baez, Richie Havens and the Incredible String Band. She can dance like nobody's business, teach tough little city kids how to open their minds and hearts and love her crazy-assed family, too. She is a blessing.
Today, after marrying a world-class young man (and giving me the honor of performing the ceremony), she is a middle school teacher in Brooklyn, NY. She's been a PK (pastor's kid) and a student, a helper in a bakery and a knock out student in both undergrad and grad school. She's been all over the place - mostly the UK and Italy - and is an incredible dancer and artist. I always knew she was remarkable but when she was 14 she danced a version of Copeland's "Simple Gifts" that set a new standard for poetry in motion and spiritual integrity.
As you can tell, I love her dearly and wish her many, many years of joy and good health. Happy Birthday, dear daughter...

One of the treasures of being a pastor is being with others as we go deeper into the faith - and one of my greatest joys comes when people engage the Advent texts and try to discern what the Spirit is saying to our church during this season. Tonight a diverse group of about 10 women and men will take some time for Bible study, conversation and prayer with me as we try to get a sense of where the Christ child is being born within and among us.

+ We will begin with a little quiet music medication - pray some of the traditional collects together - and then look at the texts from both Isaiah and the gospels.
+ My hope and prayer is that a theme will be discerned for us - a theme that will make the ancient texts speak to us now - so that we aren't engaged in either sentimentality or busy work but real spiritual listening.
And once our theme emerges, we will proceed in shaping worship and our Sanctuary space to help us more fully enter the new/old story once again. I look forward to this kind of anticipation of Advent for it is a healing antidote to the Christmas trinkets already being displayed in shops and grocery stores. At the same time, I no longer get all "wiggy" with even the early Christmas displays because they, too, are a sign of the Spirit moving in us even if it is in unfocused or obscure ways.
There is a very interesting "debate" that always pops up during any Advent planning about the use of Christmas music during the season of preparation. For years I was an "Advent Nazi" and simply forbade the use of Christmas songs in worship before the Feast of the Nativity. And I still appreciate the intellectual wisdom of this discipline... but then one day it hit me how artificial this act was - and I'm not simply talking about the way popular culture saturates us with Christmas sounds (mostly schlocky ones) non-stop for months.

No, I mean the way I listen to Carlos Nakai and George Winston and so many other Christmas instrumentalists from Thanksgiving Eve until Epiphany. And I mean the truth of the words of an old rabbi friend who once proclaimed, "Why don't you sing this songs more often, man, they are the best in your house!" And it has something to do with the joy these songs evoke. So, we will respect the tradition this year but there's no room for Scrooge in any of his/her incarnations.

NOTE: Here is this coming Sunday's sermon notes. If you are in the area, please join us at 10:30 am. We will also being dedicating our restored Bell Tower, too.

A lot of people – way too many to number – have been wounded and even abused by the Church. For a number of reasons – mostly bad – the so-called Body of Christ and its leadership over the years has regularly neglected, offended, manipulated, violated, betrayed and defiled those who have come searching for comfort, hope and forgiveness.
What’s more this is true in every spiritual community no matter what form or shape it takes: Congregational or Catholic, Buddhist or Baptist, Muslim or Mormon, Jewish or Jain including clergy and laity alike. St. Paul got it right when he said, “All have sinned and fallen short of the grace of God – and I mean all!”

Sometimes it is clergy misconduct, sometimes a treasurer embezzles money; sometimes it is cruel prejudice and other times callous indifference. Sometimes the offense is huge and other times it seems inconsequential. Nevertheless, one of the facts of life in community is that because we hurt and wound one another with such regularity through both our sins of commission as well as omission, disciples have been charged – and I would even say required – to take regular stock of both our talk as well as our walk. This morning’s gospel puts it like this:

Now Jesus turned to address his disciples, along with the crowd that had gathered with them. "The religion scholars and Pharisees are competent teachers in God's Law. You won't go wrong in following their teachings on Moses. But be careful about following them. They talk a good line, but they don't live it. They don't take it into their hearts and live it out in their behavior. It's all spit-and-polish veneer… (So ask yourself: "Do you want to stand out?” Then step down. Be a servant. If you puff yourself up, you'll get the wind knocked out of you. But if you're content to simply be yourself, your life will count for plenty. (Matthew 23: 1-12 in The Message by Eugene Peterson)

You see, we are not the center of the moral universe. We are important and valuable to God and one another – formed just a little lower than the angels as the Psalms say – but none of us has a monopoly upon wisdom or compassion. Not liberal or conservative, male or female, traditionalist or contemporary, young or old or rich or poor. In fact, when we live like we’re the only person that matters in the world we become dangerous. Bill Coffin at Riverside Church in New York City used to point out that, “Many of us have a strong allergic reaction to change (or differences) of any kind.”

The result is an intolerance for nonconforming ideas that runs like a dark streak through human history. In religious history this intolerance becomes particularly vicious when believers divide the world into the godly and the ungodly – (insiders and outsiders, us and them) – for then, hating the ungodly is not a moral lapse but rather an obligation, part of the job description of being a true believer… but the Bible knows nothing of a moral majority… in fact, the Bible insists that a prophetic minority has more to say to a nation than any majority – silent, moral or whatever – because majorities in the Bible generally end up stoning the prophets…and wounding those in need of comfort and forgiveness.

That is the first insight I think that Jesus is trying to help us embrace: owning the effect that the gap between our walk and our talk always creates for ourselves and others. Let’s be clear: in his time Jesus was not claiming that the religious authorities were advancing a broken religion or a corrupt spirituality. Not at all: “our religion scholars and legal experts are very competent in the way of the Lord,” he said with honesty; “you won’t go wrong in following their teachings – but be careful about following them.”
+ Did you catch that? Their teachings – their words, their sermons and insights – are solid and helpful. It is their lives in action that are the problem: they talk a good line but they don’t live it. They don’t take God’s love into their hearts and then share it with others in their behavior.

+ There is a blindness – an arrogance – that wounds despite the beauty of God’s word.

And that is the second insight because in our era, this blind arrogance locks out and drives away more people from church than any other single offense: more than bad preaching, lousy music, shabby conditions, mold, mildew, poor lighting, sloppy theology or even periodic misconduct by church leaders, it is the stench of blind, spiritual arrogance that sends more guests and seekers running than anything else. And do you know why? Because they don’t sense anything of Christ’s sweet welcome and grace when the stink of arrogance is in the air.

It is not coincidental that when Paul went to the thriving metropolis of Thessalonica to build a new church in the year 51 CE, he began “like a nursing mother with her babies.” His ministry started with real and embodied tenderness. The scripture says:

God tested us thoroughly to make sure we were qualified to be trusted with this Message… we never threw our weight around or tried to come across as important, with you or anyone else. We weren't aloof with you. We took you just as you were. We were never patronizing, never condescending, but we cared for you the way a mother cares for her children. We loved you dearly. Not content to just pass on the Message, we wanted to give you our hearts. And we did… You saw with your own eyes how discreet and courteous we were among you, with keen sensitivity to you as fellow believers… You experienced it all firsthand. With each of you we were like a father with his child, holding your hand, whispering encouragement, showing you step-by-step how to live well before God, who called us into his own kingdom, into this delightful life. (I Thess 2: 5-13)

Paul was teaching by how he lived – his actions were the only Bible people could see – so if he was going to be effective in sharing God’s new vision of grace and hope in his day, he had to be certain there was congruity between his words and deeds. Now scholars have noted that at the heart of Paul’s ministry was an expansion of Peter’s vision of radical inclusivity that was shared by the Holy Spirit at the home of the Gentile Cornelius. Do you remember how that story goes?

+ Cornelius the Gentile was inspired by God to invite Peter the Jew to dinner – and Peter was inspired by God to accept. That was the first blessing – the potential for community beyond both racial and religious differences – but the blessings abound for you may recall that Peter freaked out when he realized hospitality was going to force him into eating a whole host of things that his Jewish tradition said were unclean: lobster, bacon, pork chops.

+ So the Bible tells us that Peter kept excusing himself while Cornelius was cooking so that he could go to the roof and pray for wisdom. And each time he went upstairs God sent him a vision of feasting at a boldly inclusive picnic that included all the former unclean foods.

Finally, after three such mystical encounters – it took Peter a LONG time to grasp the significance of this new way of being (which is one of the reasons Jesus nicknamed him Peter – Petras – it means rock or even blockhead) – eventually he discerns the voice of our Living God saying, “What God has made clean, you must not call profane.” He hears this three times – he’s a very slow learner like the rest of us – before he can reply: “Now I truly understand that God shows NO partiality…”

And that is the message Paul was sharing in Thessalonica. “Paul’s announcement of salvation and freedom from social conventions in a new, divine order,” writes Bruce Chilton, “appealed to many (but) especially to the prominent women of that city who knew that their capacities far out-stripped what their society would let them achieve.”

Do you see where this is going? Paul’s radical inclusivity broke with the social conventions and traditional spirituality of his era but struck a responsive chord within the souls of people who had been marginalized and minimized by the in crowd.

+ You see, the vision and words of Christ are always attractive: come unto me all ye who are tired and heavy laden –come to me all who feel burned out on religion – and I will give you rest in the unforced rhythms of grace – but they have to be embodied before people will trust them – and those who speak them.

+ That means that our words have to look like Jesus: a mother nursing her babes, a father holding the hand of his loved ones and whispering real encouragement, a servant stepping down so that there is room for another to step up. Not judge and jury, gate keeper or morals police – Jesus – for without him there is only the stink of arrogance in the room.

Every church – this one included – has to face this challenge and deal with it with clarity and conviction. We know that we will never get it totally right all the time because we are only human. But we can’t pretend that it doesn’t haunt and sometimes cripple us and wound others either for that would violate our best intentions as disciples.

To be faithful, said one wise old preacher, is to help one another distinguish between the heavy burdens we tend to dump on one another and the light burden of Jesus. And unless we are “practicing and proclaiming a Word that lifts the burdens of others – with our music, our worship, our liturgy, our organization, the way we share information as well as in acts of living compassion – then we are living under the critique of Christ as exposed in today’s scripture.” (Strofregen) The words of Robert Capon come to mind and warrant a hearing when he writes:

The church is not in the morals business. The world is in the morals business… and it has done a fine job of it, all things considered. The history of the world's moral codes is a monument to the labors of many philosophers, and it is a monument of striking unity and beauty. As C.S. Lewis said, anyone who thinks the moral codes of mankind are all different should be locked up in a library and be made to read three days' worth of them. He would be bored silly by the sheer sameness.

What the world cannot get right, however, is the forgiveness business -- and that, of course, is the church's real job. She is in the world to deal with the Sin which the world can't turn off or escape from. She is not in the business of telling the world what's right and wrong so that it can do good and avoid evil. She is in the business of offering, to a world which knows all about that tiresome subject, forgiveness for its chronic unwillingness to take its own advice.

But the minute she even hints that morals, and not forgiveness, is the name of her game, she instantly corrupts the Gospel and runs headlong into blatant nonsense. Then the church becomes, not Ms. Forgiven Sinner, but Ms. Right and Christianity becomes the good guys in here versus the bad guys out there. Which, of course, is pure garbage for the church is nothing but the world under the sign of baptism. [Hunting the Divine Fox, pp. 132-133]
I hope these words make you as uncomfortable as they make me. I also hope that they make the distinctions before us clear because then, dear people of God, then God’s grace will abound and faith will flourish. And as far as I can figure out, that is the good news for today for those who have the ears to hear. Join me as we sing a new affirmation together...