jonquils in the breeze

jonquils in the breeze
unabashed, but leaning still the light itself can enter in
kept within its inner core the creamy color's silken skin
doth boast and scream and dance with green it's lush enveloped by
the colors flow and crack and bleed the night time's cry released
cowered, covered, bleaken, bare full of wonder crisp like air
careless yet careful dreamlike depictions of golden ballerinas
Imaginative and free, surrounded by a twinkled spring
lost in lovely worlds apart, finished beauty...from the start

Relax a Little

If you had told me that the rest of my life would be filled with nightmares of tragic death, flashes of horrible accidents, thoughts of impending doom...I would STILL have had a child, BUT................

I swear, not a day goes by that I don't close my eyes and either see my son plummeting to his death, lying lifeless in his crib, or drowning in an unknown body of water!!!!!  Who knew parenting would make you go insane!  It's a sick thing, really, that your maternal instincts, your unconditional love-drives you to such freakish mental erraticism that you can't rest at night without the morbidity of your worst nightmares stealing your last breath.  

Just last night I was fading in and out of sleep, ready to drift off into la la land when all the sudden I jerked so hard I pulled my neck muscle...after visually seeing, Sage smiling and holding my hand one second while hiking in the mountains, and the next falling from a cliff to his death the next.  Shannon and I have been talking about planning a summer trip to the mountains which i have been pretty enthusiastic about- looking forward to enjoying the mountain air, strolling through deserted ski towns surrounded by luxurious snow-tipped peaks on all sides, eating salads that are really just awkwardly shaped pieces of grass that really do taste like dirt- at least it's fresh.  Who knew, all the while, that my subconscious was on over-drive... planning, instead, the particulars around how-where-when & why my son would not live through the week?! 

Of course this all has to do with fear, and I get that.  I worry constantly that something is going to happen to him...that he won't wake up, that he'll choke on his food that he'll slip in the bathtub and drown, that he'll have autism, that he won't reach his milestones that he won't grow as he should, that he will hate us because he doesn't have a father, that he'll want to find his mysterious donor of sperm..........and the list goes on.   

Worry.  I would have to say that it is my new worst enemy.  I have never really considered myself a big worrier...In fact, I have traditionally been a risk taker.  Not anymore.  Everything changes when the life you are risking is not your own.  As unhealthy as this sounds - he has become the priority of my life, the center of our universe, the demise of our social lives- not that we had much of one before Sage, but he sealed the deal for us.  We literally sit and stare at him, watch his every move, listen for every syllable, watch the way he holds his mouth, the way he waves his hand, the way his inflection has grown and changed, even the way he sticks his his butt up in the are and tucks his arms under him while nestling himself into a little ball of sleep at night.... he is our little wonder, our little nugget, our Love monkey... Of course, I worry and I have a feeling I always will.

Ash Wednesday Musings on Missing

One of the practices to which I have long been hoping to commit is writing, daily.  Thus, my most prioritized practice during Lent will be to write, to put on paper or a screen or hell i'll settle for a napkin- the scribblings of my mind. With Natalie Goldberg staring down at me from the top shelf everyday I might as well get on with it. Why? Lots of reasons, but for today, this:

"Our task is to say a holy yes to the real things of our life as they exist – the real truth of who we are: several pounds overweight, the gray, cold street outside, the Christmas tinsel in the showcase, the Jewish writer in the orange booth across from her blond friend who has black children. We must become writers who accept things as they are, come to love the details, and step forward with a yes on our lips so there can be no more noes in the world, noes that invalidate life and stop these details from continuing.”  - Writing Down the Bones, Natalie Goldberg

Today is Ash Wednesday, and though I was unable to make it to the service tonight because I was playing Reverend Mommy with my almost walking, but not yet, so i'm screaming because i'm frustrated toddler, I am determined to follow through with my goal.

Today, I was reading an article and the topic of "missing someone" was briefly mentioned, and I started thinking about the first time I really missed my wife, Shannon. First of all, to miss someone you really have to be separate from them, right? Well, for the first several years of our shared life together we didn't spend 1 night apart!  And, when we did, for various work trips or family things, we'd talk every night, and carry on as if we were sleeping under the same moon. It wasn't until at least 3 years later that I went to Germany for an extended stay during the summer, and had the opportunity to REALLY long for her presence, her touch, her smell...just her.

There's something mysterious about missing someone, isn't there? An emotion that elicits a physiological response, like a yearning deep down in your gut or a throbbing sensation back in your throat and sometimes and almost sensational warm and fuzzy all over feeling- with prickly hairs standing up and all.  And, in a strange way, it's as if missing her, for me, was almost as satisfactory as seeing her, again... I said almost.

Ash Wednesday is, of course, a time that we think about death and life-our mortality, and often spend time thinking about, missing our loved ones who have died. This kind of missing is different, though. I mean, I know that for those of us for whom the afterlife is an anticipated reality we are supposed to be hopeful about seeing and being reunited with these friends and family members, but there is just something different about longing for someone, in this life, whom you know will never return. It is often void of the warm-fuzzy buzz, but elicits and all new response that is deeply and equally as mystifying and unsettling at times, sad and even burdensome. And It's as if our grief is somewhat guilted by the very notion that our faith, if pure enough, should sustain us through this sad longing, bereaving, missing...

It is like Saudade.  "Saudade is a Galician and Portuguese word that has no direct English translation, but was once described as "the love that remains" after someone is gone. It describes a deep emotional state of nostalgic or profound melancholic longing for an absent something or someone that one loves. Moreover, it often carries a repressed knowledge that the object of longing may never return. It is the recollection of feelings, experiences, places or events that once brought excitement, pleasure, well-being, which now triggers the senses and makes one live again. It can be described as an emptiness, like someone or something that should be there in a particular moment is missing, and the individual feels this absence. It brings sad and happy feelings all together, sadness for missing and happiness for having experienced the feeling."  [1]

On this day we turn our thoughts towards the wilderness and to the man who was led into a place of dry bones, without food, without water...with just this kind of aching dependency, longing for life again, for connection, for hope that maybe things would turn out differently... Knowing how the story ends, though, sorry for the spoiler,  we can, instead, see this Jesus journey through the eyes of the hopeful wanderer who was led through the desert with saudade as his guide. Longing for the world he would soon leave behind love would usher him into baptismal waters once again. Whether a full understanding of future events or not, his steps followed the hollows of the night where darkness seeks to bring death, but where Hope rises with the bright morning sunlit sky.   

I think he probably spent those days consumed with thoughts about his own mortality, dancing in the rain though no moisture filled the air, curling up like a babe under a cave whose shelter never reached the sky, and drinking from the well so deep that even the water forgot to fall. It is true that his footsteps spoke the language of hope and have given us a gift-when faced with indeterminate circumstances that we, too, might choose life.  May it be so.
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At least that's what I thought about today, but tomorrow, hopefully, I will experience the kind of deep, pure faith that is sure, and be cosmically reminded that it can lift us into an altogether new reality where mortality is an un-feared possibility and dust an inviting decorum for our souls.  Until then...

Sermon: Advent 1A, Dec. 1, 2013, The Parousia

Advent 1A, Dec. 1, 2013

The Parousia

“What is it to die?” Asks Metro’s Christopher Hooten.  “For some, death is our body’s expiration date, for others it is an absolute point where the soul leaves the body, he writes.

For a group of scientists in Scottsdale, Arizona, however, it is merely an arbitrary natural accident, an engineering problem we have yet to find a solution for.

The Alcor Life Extension Foundation is the world’s leading provider of cryonics, the practice of using ultra-cold temperatures to preserve humans until such a time when medicine is advanced enough to restore good health.

The widely-held belief that it involves freezing is actually something of a red herring. As soon as possible after legal death is pronounced, cryoprotectant solution – a sort of antifreeze – is administered to a patient through their circulatory system, entering almost every cell in the body.

Known as vitrification, this process avoids ice crystal formation and allows the body to be cooled with virtually no freezing damage, before being placed in liquid nitrogen in a Dewar container and moved to storage indefinitely.

As part of the $800 (£500) annual fee, Alcor members are allowed to store information and a few possessions in a box locked in a Kansas salt mine, to be returned to them in the event they come back in the future.

It is clear that reversing the aging process is still a long way off and dramatic advances in science are required to extend our lives, be it temporarily or in perpetuum, says Hooten, but for some the opportunity to see the future is just too tantalising: there’s always a chance to catch a fish, if only you have your fly in the water.

Mark Voelker, 56, a member of Alcor, told Metro: ‘I’ve chosen to be cryopreserved because I love life and would rather not die.” 

‘Medicine is progressing quite rapidly and I think there is a reasonable chance we will be able to live long and healthy lives within a few decades. It would be a shame to miss out on that.”

It seems that there is now a third, viable, option for those preparing for the end of life... “would you like to be buried, cremated or vitrified & immersed in liquid nitrogen?  Preserving the body in order to bring it back to life at a time when science catches up with the present “utopian” life we are living in now.

So, yes, there are folks out there who have chosen to spend as Karl Barth calls it, “The Time Between the Times” - that time between death and life, or life and life, frozen in time, awaiting a second chance...

If vitrification seems too unreasonable there are several other modern alternatives to cremation and burial, including: 

visiting outer space...your ashes could be on the next space expedition where they will be scattered in space during an Earth Rise Service for only $37,000.  

You could also choose to become a shining gem.  The company Lifegem promises to turn your “diamond in the rough self” into an actual diamond either by using your ashes or a simple strand of your hair.  Prices range form $2700- $27000 for diamonds of your choice.  

An artist in this life?  You yourself can BE the work of art you’ve always longed to create!  A number of companies now offer memorial art: paintings in which cremated ashes are mixed right in to either the paints or the finishing varnish.

Ever wanted to “Die like an Egyptian?”  Modern day mummification is available for a starting price of $67,000...but vaults and storage facilities will cost extra..unless you’d like to gift your child with some new lawn art? 

Perhaps these alternative experiences for the dead, for some, are about being green, about living honorably and sustainably in life and in death.  For others maybe there is just something too final about death, for them it is the final stop, the end of the game, it is home plate...per se, and the thought of letting go is too much, so they have “stored up” hope for when the evolution of humanity and it’s knowledge might bring back to life that which was lost.  For others, the thought of having only one last adventure by which they will be remembered, drives them to the moon, to the bottom of the sea, to crystalized versions of themselves, to the farthest places in the East and the West, the darkest, most cold, most exotic places in the world...for them HOPE is found in their last moments of life....

Beginning with Isaiah’s prophetic words of wisdom, heard again in Paul’s letter to the Romans as well as in the songs of the Psalter and finally echoed by the words of Jesus himself in Matthew we read, this morning, that HOPE, our hope is in our past, our present and our future, and that all three abide in the one very present Jesus Christ in his resurrection, his revelation and his return, the parousia.  

This is the First Sunday of Advent, a day symbolizing Hope and Anticipation, a day that marks the journey of Christ’s revelation to all people, a resounding promise prophesied by many and culminated in the Epiphany of Christ to the Gentiles.  

This season is traditionally thought to be a pathway giving light to the birth of Christ, and honorably, so, yet we often look too near and slight the revelation of Christ represented by the Magi to the Gentiles, to the church to those not traditionally part of God’s chosen people...the non-Jews of us here today included...  

As we prepare to remember, to claim peace in the present and Hope for a future it is imperative to find ourselves aligned/centered, with our feet firmly grounded upon the foundation of our theological selves.  This self which Kierkegaard defines as, a set of relations between a person and the world around him or her” is the self out of which we can choose to live freely-or not, to celebrate this season with or without reverence for its historicity, out of which we choose or choose not to be generous, this self which hosts the ingrained privilege that quantifies us as children of God, was grafted into the church through God’s grace, and this self for which the Christ child was born, crucified, and raised again CAN be ALIVE to HOPE this Advent season.

Rarely, in our lives, are we forced to examine our theological selves-  or even qualified as such, but without close determination of our relationship to or with the resurrected Jesus the opportunity to deduce or discern the inherent truths within this Advent promise of which we read today is compromised.  

As a pre-cursor to this New Testament revelation of the parousia, or second coming, of which we read that the "time" is a mystery to all, we encounter a prophet declaring a universal HOPE for the world; a reminder to us that ALL people will be gathered in that day-before God, those from the East and the West, the North and the South, the Black and the White, the Rich and the Poor, the Opressors and the oppressed, those inside and outside the church, those with prestige and honor, and those living under the shadows of shame and hypocrisy, and in that day- even those advocating and delivering bloodshed.  

  Isaiah’s proclamation is an oracle, referred to as the “floating oracle of peace” because it also appears in Micah 4:1-3.  Theologianl Bruce Birch writes that the oracle “is apparently part of a general prophetic tradition that was available to both of these propthets as a promise of the eschatological fulfillment of God’s kingdom.  Presumably this is especially important in times of difficulty when present circumstances seem unpromising; confidence that the future belongs to God gives hope in the present.  In Isaiah’s time the less than promising circumstances included the Syro-Ephraimitic war...and the people needed to be reassured that the ultimate power would be raised up, and hope that God’s reign would be elevated over all other claims to power... 

We hear stories of HOPE all the time, don’t we?  Because everybody loves  a good story, a hero, a happy ending.  It is always the case, that the most successful stories of hope end with the hoped for outcome...  Think about it, do you ever hear Dick Gordon interviewing someone on The Story whose hope failed them?  No, they highlight stories with positive results.  People wrongly imprisoned for 17, 32, 25 years finally set free, The show “I Shouldn’t Be Alive” recants stories of Hope and Life of rock-climbers who fall to their near death, and live on HOPE alone through frigid temperatures for days until their rescue, the most recent story of HOPE magnified by hollywood...12 years a slave...though a brutal depiction of despair, and pure evil by the hands of men, Solomon Northup never gave up hoping, and was, ultimately, reunited with his family after having been kidnapped and held in slavery for 12 years.

This kind of HOPE comes with a cost, doesn’t it?  One does not HOPE like the hope of a slave pleading for his freedom, One does not HOPE like a parent whose child is terminally ill, or whose own life has been compromised by disease, one does not HOPE like the one walking in the desert longing for freedom on the other side of the fence, one does not HOPE like the one whose father has been taken from their family for reasons over which they have no power, and one does not HOPE like the person living with a secret that he fears will isolate him from everyone he loves...

When we are asked to imagine and evaluate our theological selves, again, this self that is a set of relations between a person and the world around him or her” we find the space where this kind of unbridled hope is spawned, and then either live more honestly into the promise that has been realized in Jesus' coming or spend our lives wandering, waiting, wondering what there is to hope for, to hope in...clutching onto the many luxuries of our present day creating a false sense of assurance that our stuff is enough, that our financial stability is the true pathway to security and that status will be enough to deliver us from worldly troubles...  Some even go as far as to sure up a second chance of living for themselves...by virtually "freezing their bodies in time".  This kind of hope, the kind of hope is ushered into being by what Paul calls, “belief”- saying May the God of HOPE fill you with all joy and peace in beleiving...so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.  This kind of HOPE demands an allegiance, demands an investigation, at least, into the inner core of our theological selves.  

The Apostle Paul believed the return of Christ was upon the church, and in his urgency he demanded they "wake-up" to their lives...challenged them to start living honorably as if their hope would soon be realized and they would stand before Jesus once again.  This kind of allegiance which leads to hope he said, would take work, "lay aside the works of darkness and put on the armor of light."  This armor, of course was Jesus himself, the word became flesh...  So, put aside that which is outside the light...and take up the light for yourselves... It’s not that which is being brewed in a kettle by an evil pawn of Satan that is outside the light... it is not a message to those outside the church, to those perpetuating evil and destruction, calamity at all cost...It is the call to the church, to us, to set aside all that might steal our allegiance, deceive our conscious and take victim our own theological selves ignorant to the call upon our lives...to the call to put on the Armor of Light which is the very essence Light itself.  

In Advent, we prepare for the birth of Jesus and for the revelation of Jesus as the Light of the World whereby God would reconcile humanity to God's self.  It's true that this kind of HOPE did come with a cost, but for us this was not a cost we were asked to pay, Jesus himself was the payment.  And, unlike the stories we envisioned earlier of hopeful people and realized hopes...families reunited, extreme athletes living through impossible circumstances, miraculous recoveries from terminal illnesses...the kind of hope present in the Return of Christ to the world is the same hope realized and available in the tiny cries of the babe promised to be born of the Virgin Mary.  

In other words, We do not have to wait for the rescue-crew, for the fulfillment of Christ's return, the parousia, to begin living into the HOPE of that reality...Karl Barth describes this time of Jesus Christ as marked off from our own as not merely present but future, the time which has still to come, but is exptected and hoped for.  And our own time... becomes to us a time between the times.  For Barth it is in this time that the church, understandingly and openly, and the world, unknowingly and secretly, exist in hope of the third and final form of the parousia, the second coming of Christ."  This is the message of Advent.  

So the question for you and I is this? 

What difference does it make to us?  What difference does it make that our Advent Hope, the promise of the savior to be born, and the truth that Christ will come a second time and bring about new life for all...is available to us today?  How does this change the way we live our lives? The way we talk to our loved ones, the way we live inwardly and in fear of letting go.  How does this promise really breathe influence into our decisions, limit our indiscretions, challenge our indecencies?  In what ways could living more fully into this Advent promise allow us to breathe deeper at night as our heads rest on our pillows?  Whose lives could ultimately be changed?  Could a whole segment of the population gain the freedoms we take for granted each day, could our own children find the peace they need from our acceptance, our love?  What difference does it make to us that the anticipated birth of the Christ child will happen...did happen, and that this same baby...flesh of our flesh, will go on to live and die that we might be free?  What difference does it make in your life?  

Let us remember that Christ is "Already" the fulfillment of our promised future, the hoped for reality prophesied by Isaiah, sung by the ancient Psalter and preached by the great teacher, Paul

Karl Barth reminds us that,  "The eschatological perspective in which Christians see the crucified and resurrected  and the alteration of their own situation in Him is not the minus-sign of an anxious "not yet" which has to be removed, but the plus-sign of an :Already: in virtue of which the living Christ becomes greater to them and altogether great... so that believing in Him and loving Him they can also hope in him".  

May it be so... Amen.

Sermon: July 1, 2012: Do Not Fear, Only Believe

July 1, 2012

Mark 5: 21-43

Do Not Fear, Only Believe

People, all over the world, go to church for millions of reasons.  Today, they’re sitting on pews, under tin roofs, in open air, on mats on a dirt floor...in church.  Some of them are there eager to hear a “fix-it” or a solution to a problem...whether it be a minor decision they have to make, or something as serious as addiction, divorce, infidelity, financial stress, family crisis, sickness or loneliness...Some people are sitting in church today because they need to hear a positive word from the preacher, or because they need to pray with a friend or brother, and many people are sitting in church today because it’s Sunday, and that’s what they do on Sunday...they go to church.  Some people go to church to feel good about themselves, to meet other people, to get a date :-), and some people go just to get out of the house- to escape the misery that has become their life.  

However, I believe that most people who are sitting in a church today, all around the world, are there because at some point in their lives they have had glimpses of the holy, exchanges with a loving and compassionate God, have felt loved and accepted for who they are, and somehow believe that no matter what they are going through...God will be there, God will show up again..in a Holy moment.  

Think about your holy moments....why do you come to church?  Do you come to church today for the same reasons you first walked through the doors?   Do you LONG for a Holy moment?

Faith, my friends, is not easy, and it’s not a guarantee either.  As followers of Jesus, with a relationship to a holy and loving God we are traveling a journey, together, that will be the most difficult of our lives.  And when faced with crises, when death and disease are knocking at the door, when grief strikes our home, when loss and bewilderment threaten to suck us into an eternity of torment, we are told to “Not fear, but only believe”.

In the gospel lesson for today, we are given two complementary stories, literarily juxtaposed, full of theological as well as homiletical discoveries.  Just after healing the demon-possessed Gerasene man we find Jesus arriving across shore with a crowd of people gathering around him.  First, he is encountered by a religious leader named Jairus who, at the feet of Jesus, pleads healing for his 12 year-old daughter who is lying at home on her deathbed.  So, Mark writes that Jesus went with the man, and that while traveling, as usual, a large crowd was pressing in on him.  Imagine, if you will, an outdoor market in a third world country...people everywhere, chickens running & clucking beneath your feet, children here and there, cars and bicycles crowding through...elders stooped down and teetering fragilely from one place to the next.

How many of you have found yourselves in this type of situation before? surrounded by people on all sides... I remember the first time I traveled to West Africa- Burkina Faso.  I was to work in a village called Ouergoo and would be handing out medical supplies to children and families.  Upon arriving at the village, we could hardly make our way to our hut because the people were in mass, following us, pressing in on us, reaching for our skin, wanting to touch our noses, touching our clothes, holding our hands, wanting to carry our bags.  The air was semi- sweet strung with the stench of sweaty human bodies, it was HOT, a day much like today...no shade, maybe even hotter (I remember, my friend Mark writing a haiku on this day called HOT.  I think it went something like this:

Hot, Hot, Hot

It’s Hot in Ouergoo

Hot, Hot, Hot.  

The following morning, after we’d had a sleepless night in our huts, we awoke to a thousand eyeballs staring in at us through our door and our windows...tiny children sat inside our rooms on the floor facing our mats...looking directly into at us, waiting for our eyes to open.  The people were excited about those who had come with medicine, and they were pressing in on us.  

Imagine Jesus, again, the healer of diseases, the giver of life and forgiver of sins.  The people knew who was in their midst and they were excited...they pressed in on Jesus, rubbing elbows, breathing his air, looking as closely upon him as they could, and then...he felt it... his power had been released.  As if he were crazy with people hovering and pressing all around, Jesus asks “who touched me?”  With this announcement, the crowd would become still, and people would look all around, until finally, at his feet once again a woman asking for his healing power and grace.  

At this woman, Jesus does not simply spit or rebuke her for touching him, rendering him unclean, but he calls her “daughter,” saying your faith has made you well, go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”  

This woman, whose name we do not know, but who I imagine to be Isabelle, has suffered for 12 years...living in isolation, poor from spending all of her money on medicinal treatments and providers, much like someone today with a pre-existing condition and no longer eligible for medial care.  Her soul is as bloody as her body, broken down with the stares of those who scoff at her, judge her for her sins, rebuke her for her uncleanness.  Her journey is as unknown to us as our own.  Who was she before the bleeding began, and why does this day mark her a daughter in the eyes of our loving savior?  I see Isabelle cleaning the floor’s of her home, baking bread for the guests she will host in the morrow, singing to herself, watering flowers, and unexpectedly waking up, the next day, to an anguishing plight.  No more light, no more songs, no more guests to serve or children to hold...no more friendships, relationships, and even the house has been lost.  She has suffered long and has been blameless, but those of us who see her this day...covering her face, lowering herself to the ground, self-loathing in her condition...we make judgements and cast our stones, we position ourselves as far as possible from this one not worthy of our touch, but Jesus.... 

Jesus knows the journey, and embittered as she may be, he does not turn her away, but calls her “daughter”.

I think we are foolish to suggest that this woman had lived the last 12 years without cursing God, without asking “why me?”  What did I do wrong?  Were is God??  If there even is a God, where are you???  I want to see your face....!  

In her book, Still: Notes on a mid-faith crisis, Duke Divinity Professor, Lauren Winner describes her own journey, after the death of her mother and her own divorce, saying, “On the days when I think I have a fighting chance, at change, I understand it to be these words and these rituals and these people who will change me.  Some days I am not sure if my faith is riddled with doubt, or, whether graciously, my doubt is riddled with faith.  And yet I continue to live in a world the way a religious person lives in the world; I keep living in a world that I know to be enchanted; not left alone.  I doubt; I am uncertain; wrest-less, prone to wander.  And yet glimmers of hope keep interrupting my gaze.”  

For Isabelle, I wonder if she found faith and lost it in the same day, whether she cried herself to sleep asking God for relief from her condition, from isolation and loneliness, whether she stopped talking to God altogether, and whether faith felt like a friend or a foe.  

Winner writes, “-before my mother got sick, before I found myself to be a person thinking about divorce- I would have told you that these were precisely the circumstances in which one would be glad for religious faith.  Faith, after all, is suppose to sustain you, through hard times- and i’m sure for many people, faith does just that.  But it wasn’t so for me, in my case as everything else was dying, my faith seemed to die too.  God had been there, God has been alive to me.  And then, it seemed, nothing was alive- not even God.”

I think sometimes as Christians, as believers in Jesus, as worshipers of the creator God we are inclined to fear our doubts, to be shamed by our uncertainties, to hide our faces from the pain of faithlessness.  Perhaps, what we find in this passage in the healing of a nameless, bleeding and abandoned woman, is Jesus granting healing to a woman who represents the human condition, who just happens to need physical healing as well.  He makes her “well” and grants her peace and then says be healed of your disease.  I do not doubt the significance of her ailments or of Jesus ability to heal the body, but what draws me in is the condition of this woman’s suffering soul, and Jesus’ inclination to provide her with holistic healing.  He can see her, and has seen her in the closet hiding from loved ones, in the shadows cutting herself that she might live, in the bedroom cursing her body for what it has turned her into, in the daylight abandoning the faith that once was her song.  Jesus sees her and has seen her through the journey, and still does not abandon her.

Yes, these stories do illuminate the power and possibility of faith, but I think even more 

than the act of faith, the falling down at Jesus feet, the crying for mercy and the begging for forgiveness we witness a journey of faith, and find God’s mercy and grace beyond the scope of human understanding.  That faith itself is a substance that resides deep within us, as hot as coals in the middle of the desert, as sharp as the blade that has cut us off from ourselves, and as redemptive and loyal as the one whom God created when you turned into you.  

Lauren Winner continues in her journey of faith by sharing, “Maybe in hardening my heart to my marriage, I hardened it to God too.  Here: I had been a person who felt God, who felt God’s company, now I was becoming a person who was wondering if I had dreamed up God, and then a person who was tired of her own wondering.  Maybe none of it- God, incarnation, sin, redemption- was real, and I just needed to get on with personal growth and get back to politics, go on a peace-keeping mission with the UN, do something other than moon around wondering if I had faith”.  

Not all of us will face the faith crisis that Winner describes in her book, and not all of us will find ourselves questioning the existence of God or of our relationship with God, but we have all questioned our own faith, our own shortcomings, our lack of faith, our undeserving sin-ridden selves, and have been intrigued by the invitation to abandon the hope that there will be more holy moments, that God is there and sees us, will continue to see us for who we are, and will not leave us alone.  

When Jairus asked Jesus to come to his daughter’s aide, Jesus seemingly agreed, by following him to his home, but due to interruptions in the journey, Jairus daughter died before Jesus could get there.  We will all feel the wounds of waiting on Jesus, waiting for peace and life to overcome suffering and injustice, waiting on the one who walks on water to move mountains, to end war and bring unity to broken-people and places, waiting on the pain of deep loss and anguish to subside, waiting for our songs to return again, and waiting to be found by the faith that once sustained us.  But just as Jairus turned to hear the news, Jesus says to him, “Do not fear, only believe”.  In this instance, a girl was brought from death to life, from silence to speaking, from lacking sustenance to eating food, from lifelessness to restoration, from lying to waking, to living...

Maybe we aren’t the walking dead, and maybe our ailments are less visible than that of the bleeding woman, but we all need healing, nonetheless.  I think most often, it is those living with affliction and pain who have received the deepest of healings, even at their bedsides when their bodies are caving in and they are too weak to talk, their eyes tell the story of beauty & redemption, grace and peace.  It’s those of us walking the earth without a thorny flesh who seem most daunted by the shame of faithlessness, who must learn to abandon ourselves before we can ever allow the faith of our beginnings to capture us once again, and let the journey be our faith.  

This journey, Lauren Winner says is like this: 

“There is a mountain, swathed in darkness.  The mountain is God, and the mountain is your movement toward God.  This is what it is like to ascend to God: you are standing at the edge of an abyss, and the foot of a mountain that seems impassable.  All is soaked in darkness.  You are fearful.  Yet you want to go on.”  

Faith is a journey that is ours as faith-filled people longing to live in communion with our creator God.  It is not easy, and at times we will forget who we are and whose we are, but the one whom we crowd around and press in on will never abandon us.

Whoever you are, wherever you are on life’s journey, you are welcome at the feet of Jesus, and you will not be turned away.   Jesus said, “Do not fear, only believe”.   

May it be so.  Amen. 

Sermon: March 18, 2012: "Packets of Light"

“Packets of Light”

March 18, 2012

Light and darkness are as old as time, as the world and even before the world ... they were present when God was laying the foundation for the world as we know it.  From the beginning darkness has been the image of emptiness, of an unimaginably deep void...of unknowing.

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. 2 Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.

Light, on the other hand has always been the protagonist...celebrated and alive...radiant, and full of goodness and wisdom; is serves as a metaphor for all things imagineable, The birthing place for new life, growth and renewal.  

And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. 4 God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. 

As we continue our Lenten journey, exploring the gospel text this morning, it is this light that will illuminate our pathway of understanding, and help us to navigate the journey together.  

“For many Christians, Marcus Borg writes in his book Speaking Christian, “[John 3:16] is the most concise summary of the Christian gospel.”  In fact, Martin Luther called John 3:16  “The Gospel in Miniature”.  It is easy to understand why”, says Borg,  “Understood within the framework of Heaven-and-Hell-Christianity; it expresses the Heart of what the Heaven-and-Hell framework affirms: God loves the world, and that if you believe in Jesus, as God’s only son, you will be saved and have eternal life in Heaven because God gave Jesus to die in your place.”  What isn’t as obvious is that this kind of conservative theology, “puts a condition on the opening line, “For God so loved the world; namely the love of God is conditional.  Though God loves the world, only those who believe in Jesus will be saved.  In extreme form, and not so uncommon, the verse means that God loves you, but God will send you straight to Hell and eternal torment if you don’t believe in Jesus.  “But all of this,” says Borg, “is a significant misunderstanding of what John 3:16 means in the context of John’s gospel.”  

First: the World- 

In the NT, as well as in John, the world has two meanings. Borg explains the differences like this: “One meaning is positive: the “world” is the world created by God- the whole of creation.  The other meaning is negative: the world is “this world,” meaning the humanly created world of cultures with their domination systems.  in John, and in Paul, “this world” rejected Jesus.  But God loves the divinely created world- not just you and me, not just Christians, not just people, but the whole of creation.  

That he gave his only son: “John’s Gospel does not include the notion of substitutionary sacrifice; indeed none of the gospels do, writes Borg.”  The giving of the son in John refers to the incarnation as a whole and not primarily to the death of Jesus.  How much does God love the world?  So much that God was willing to become incarnate in the world.  

So that everyone who believes in him: Belief in the context of John refers to the premodern meaning of believe, “to belove Jesus...to give one’s heart, loyalty, fidelity and commitment to Jesus.  Believing did not mean believing theological claims about Jesus...in John.

May not perish but may have eternal life: Eternal life is commonly understood to mean a blessed afterlife beyond death.  But in John’s gospel, it is a present experience.  The Greek words translated into English as eternal life mean “the life of the age to come.”  Within John’s theology, this is still future and to be hoped for.  But it is also present.  Consider John 17:3 “This is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.”  Borg notes the present tense, “This is eternal life (the life of the age to come); and it’s content is knowing God.  To know God, and Jesus, in the present is to participate already in the life of the age to come.  

This well-known passage, this miniature gospel is not about people going to hell, living in darkness, because they don’t ascribe to a particular set of theological beliefs or even about Heaven and the anticipated afterlife... this polarity of light and darkness metaphorically speaks to the experience of those living within the knowledge of God’s love and more specifically to their decision to “come to the light” out of the darkness. 

I have a painting hanging in my office, it’s part of the Story People Collection by Brian Andreas.  

The painting is abstract and interesting, full of color and movement...and beauty...So, my story is called: Packets of Light

These are little packets of light & you need to plant them early in the year & remember to mark where they were because lots of times they look like weeds in the beginning & it's not until later that you see how beautiful they really are.

Of course, this story & imagery is my inspiration for doing youth ministry... light can often be mistaken for weeds... but as the light grows we will begin to see how beautiful they really are.

There are no guarantees in life that the “weeds” will not seek us out, deceive us, or that the light will be easy to find.  Most certainly we have all found ourselves in dark places at times in our lives, and are surprised to find that we may have even chosen the darkness over the light, for personal advantage, financial gain, social recognition, fear.  We are living in a time where the darkness seems inviting, more interesting, stimulating, & even safer at times... than what we perceive the light has to offer.  The church, for instance, is the manifestation of God’s community of light in the world, and yet fewer and fewer people are choosing the church.  It has become one choice in a sea of many, an option, an activity to be added to the schedule of dropping off and picking-up.  It remains a social obligation for some, a fiscal responsibility for others, and an avenue whereby to participate in community service for many people.  For others the church is simply irrelevant to their lives, and is not life-or-light-giving for them, and so they have chosen something else altogether.  

Like Sheliaism: In Chapter 9 of their 1985 book Habits of the Heart, Bellah and Madsen discuss how religion in America has moved from being highly public and unified, as it was in colonial New England, to extremely private and diverse. To demonstrate the shift, they quote a young nurse, to whom they gave the name Sheila Larson: "I believe in God. I'm not a religious fanatic. I can't remember the last time I went to church. My faith has carried me a long way. It's Sheilaism. Just my own little voice...It's just try to love yourself and be gentle with yourself. You know, I guess, take care of each other. I think He would want us to take care of each other." Bellah and Madsen suggest that Sheilaism creates the logical possibility "of over 220 million American religions, one for each of us," and they see Sheilaism as "a perfectly natural expression of current American religious life".[2]

Diana Butler Bass writes in her newest book, Christianity After Religion, “The economic, social, and political world in which we live has opened up the possibility for eighty-two thousand choices at the coffee shop and probably about ten times that many when it comes to worshiping God and loving your neighbor.  Some will choose well, others badly.  Some will choose thoughtfully, others not so much.  Some choose something new, others choose what they have always known.  In the end, however, everybody chooses.  Contemporary spirituality is a little like that line at the coffee shop.  Everybody makes a selection. Even if you only want black coffee.”  

In a spiritual culture that is experiencing a seismic shift from the information age to the inventive age, from an over-complicated customized consumeristic marketing strategy to an inclusive, participatory, collaborative and simplified social ethic the light of Christ found in John’s gospel, as it pertains to our daily choices, has never been so important.  

“Americans, says Bass, even those of modest means, exercise more choices in a single day than some of our ancestors did in a month or perhaps even a year.  From the moment we awaken, we are bombarded with choices- from caffeinated or decaffeinated, to flipping on any one of a hundred television stations as we ready the children for school, to getting our news in print, online, or via a mobile device, to what sort of spinach to by to go with dinner (local, organic, fresh, frozen, chopped, whole leaf, bagged, or bunched).  

Coffee, Spinach, and Methodist/Baptist/Catholic... “Years ago, writes Bass, “we did not choose any of these things.  If we had money, if the grocer stocked the vegetable, or if we happened to be baptized in a Methodist family, we were simply obliged in relation to these particular things.  

Today, ours is a congregation comprised of Roman Catholics, Baptists, Methodists, Unitarians, Presbyterians, Disciples, UCC, Secular-Humanists, Buddhists and more...  The message of the gospel is clear, “He did not come into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through him might be saved.”  I think it’s fair to say that in a culture where choice is the new “brand” we aren’t in the business of keeping anybody out, but a fair question for us might be, what are we saying to people who are looking for a way to come in...to find the light, to be “saved”?

It is not always easy to live by the light, to even see the light, especially as weeds entice & threaten us at every turn, however, as a community it is our responsibility to embrace the light that is ours in Christ, and to remind the “world” that they too have been saved, that the light shines in the darkness and that no matter how dark or burdensome the shadows become they will never extinguish the light.  

In just over 8 weeks, our state will take a vote on a proposed amendment that has been written in a way that if passed would seek to bottle up that light that exists for all people and shelter it deep within the carriages of the law, protecting those whose lives are threatened by the very nature of love and acceptance of liberty and the pursuit of happiness, of communion through this  shared gift of love..., this judgement celebrates the darkness from which it came by employing a discriminatory tactic whose job is to lessen the light, to keep it burning as a tiny flame as it mocks the freedom set-forth by the creator who on that day separated the light from the dark, and called the light good.  

Friends, Jesus says, “I am the light of the world, whoever follows me will never walk in darkness.”  Even when those charged with bearing the light have forsaken it’s source we cannot lose sight of the message of the gospel, nor let the burden of too many choices paralyze our convictions.  Today, it is too risky to remain unchanged, too risky to practice professional consumerism while wanderers of a new age are looking for the light.  In the face of “this world”, in the face of discrimination and paralysis by fear, let us say enough is enough, it is time to embrace the light...and let it shine. 

May it be so...Amen.