Not In My Name

I flew home from a week in Chicago yesterday evening. As I sat on the plane in my usual window seat next to two empty seats, I wondered who my seatmates might be. Soon I saw a Mother and her young son heading my way. The Mom sat on the aisle and her 3-year-old sat in the middle seat next to me. It took a few minutes before the "Little Man," as his mother called him, would talk to me. But he did introduce his stuffed moose, "Moosey," to me through his Mom.

As we were flying, the plane encountered some turbulence. Each time the plane bounced, Adam (I finally got him to tell me his name) reached over for reassurance by holding his mother's hand. A few times the bump was worse than others and Adam would drag her entire arm into his lap for comfort as he held it tightly in his little hands. It was sweet and gave me a smile remembering moments in my own son’s life when all he wanted was reassurance from me with a touch, a smile, a hug, or a simple moment of eye contact.

While watching this play out, I was also poignantly reminded of the little ones who have been separated from their parents along the southern border of our nation since May. Over 2,300 children have been separated from their parents by US Immigration policies. The stories and images are disturbing.

Whether you agree or disagree with the “zero tolerance” policy of the administration about the adults crossing the border as refugees or immigrants – I hope we can agree that ripping little kids out of the arms of their parents is just plain wrong. There are really no easy answers, but the fact remains that refugees coming into this nation for asylum need to be handled better. Immigrants can and should be treated with respect and dignity. Putting their children into cages and “tender age” facilities is wrong on every level. 

Separating children from their parents is potentially going to scar these children for the rest of their lives. Children are being terrified and there is no mother or father's hand to hold theirs. Every child should be protected from danger and fear. We are causing it right now. This is not ok.

RefuJesus by David Hayward

I know we have done wrong by too many in the past, as well – First Nations People, African Americans, Japanese Americans, and others – and we need to continue to atone for those atrocities. Now - this is our moment to say, “Not in my name. Not in our country.” Our nation can be better than this moving into the future.

Jesus calls us to act in the name of refugees as he was a refugee. Jesus calls us to treat one another in the same way we would want to be treated. Jesus calls us to welcome the little children.

Speak out, speak up. We cannot be silent on this. We cannot allow this policy to stand. 

Call your Representatives and Senators. Donate to organizations working on this along the border. 

Let’s do better. Let’s be better. Let’s all say together, “Not in my name.”

In Silence We Await

Holy Saturday

We sit in the pain of death.
We sit in the sorrow of loss.
We sit in the stillness of sorrow.
We sit in the uncertainty of the future.

Black Saturday

We stand in the midst of grief.
We stand in the shadow of the cross.
We stand in the midst of betrayers.
We stand in the fear of the empire.

Easter Saturday

We walk near the tomb hoping for any sign.
We walk in the solitude of loneliness.
We walk in the shadow of loss.
We walk in the hope of the resurrection.

But for now we sit and stand and walk in darkness.

Jesus has died. The world sits in that loss.

Holy Saturday

Today we wait in sadness. 
Today we sit in darkness.
Today we honor the death of Jesus.

And in silence we await.

Karyn L. Wiseman, 2017

Wounded Faith

 This morning I was checking out my Facebook feed and saw the above photo that intrigued me greatly.  It was on the status of a clergy friend who often posts funny photos of himself photoshopped into some absurd situation or onto someone else’s body. So I was intrigued by the seriousness of the image – which I thought was a bit uncharacteristic.

When I really looked at it, I was reminded of the many times my Grandmother or Mom would tell me that I could survive anything through faith and that Jesus was bigger than any of my problems or issues. But there were definitely times in my life when my issues, problems, concerns, or drama seemed much bigger than my faith, bigger than Jesus, and definitely bigger than my understanding of God.

But I distinctly remember being told the opposite as I was growing up. “God doesn't give us more than we can handle,” I was told. Well, if that’s true, then evidently God has a higher opinion of what I can handle than I do.

Now I have to be honest about my life. I am a white, middle-class, highly educated, well employed, fairly healthy American woman. I am a Protestant in a vibrant community of faith and work in a vocation that I love and enjoy immensely. I have good health care and options for where I go to receive treatment when I am sick. I have a home that is warm and comfortable. My son is in a great school and had the ability to apply to multiple magnet schools for high school next year. I have an amazing family – my family of origin and my family of choice— and I know that I am richly blessed.

So how bad could my problems be? Right?

We all have secret pain. We all have brokenness. We all have wounds that do not fully heal despite all the salve we put on them. The truth is that no matter our circumstances in life – there is still heartache, pain and wounds.

Sometimes the pain comes from wounds that we are too frightened to talk about to others. Sometimes it comes from things we had no control over. Sometimes it comes from bad decisions we made in our past. Sometimes it comes from the evil some people do to others. Sometimes it comes from how society treats people that are deemed “others.” And sometimes it is what we do to ourselves.

No matter how we get these wounds - they are real. The pain is real. The feelings that the wounds and pain are bigger than Jesus – bigger than God—are real.  And no easy answers and pithy slogans on photos makes that pain go away. I know that.

But I believe that God helps to heal our wounds if we open our lives to that. I believe that our faith can and does help us survive difficult situations in our lives. I do believe that God is big enough to take our pain, to take our anger, to take our frustrations, and to take our brokenness and help us begin to heal.

For me that healing comes from my faith, from my church community, from my understanding of God’s desire for the best for me, and from the love with which I am surrounded every day.  For me healing comes in the Eucharistic meal I participate in every week with my seminary community and monthly with my community of faith. For me healing comes from a faith life that includes prayer, reading the scriptures, spending time in spiritual practices, and honoring my personal faith needs.

But even those powerful parts of my life do not automatically heal all of my wounds. Some wounds are even deeper than I want to admit. I am trying to be open to healing and wholeness. But I still have the wounds. They have shrunken over the years but I still have the scars. There has been healing and renewal, but that does not make me immune from new pain. There have been moments of complete clarity about my life and other times when everything was foggy. And I know that in all of those situations, God was with me. God was bigger than my pain, but I had to open myself to the possibility of healing. I had to stop focusing on the wounds so that I could feel the power of the healing.

The healing was sometimes as painful as the wounding—because it often involved forgiving the person(s) who injured me. And the healing was not always complete because I often held onto the pain since it was so personal to me.  And it had been such a part of my journey.

Healing comes if we open ourselves to the possibilities. It can be slow and difficult.

Wounds are not bigger than we are. Pain is not bigger than we are. Even though they feel like that sometimes – they are not bigger than God.

I have to remember that – I think that we all do. 

Gospel Purée, Newtown, Little Kids, and Grace …

My last name is Wiseman. And I have two sisters. We grew up in the church as the three Wiseman sisters. So you can guess which kids were always picked to play the “Three Wisemen” in the annual Christmas Nativity play at church. It drove me insane. All I wanted was to be a shepherd and wear a bathrobe with a towel wrapped around my head – but the directors of all of these plays thought it was adorable to let the 3 Wiseman girls play the 3 wisemen since it would be “so cute.”

As I grew up and went into ministry I got a bit bothered by the purée of Gospel that is the typical church nativity play. We take some shepherds being visited by an Angel from Luke, add some magi and a star leading them to the baby from Matthew, and the inn keeper from out of thin air. And we get a Nativity created out of Gospel purée. It is familiar to most of us – and at the same time it is not quite accurate to the story.

This week, I went to a Christmas Program and nativity play at my son’s parochial school and he played one of the wisemen – once again because the director thought it would be “so cute” for him to play the role. We had an angel visit the Shepherds, Magi visiting from the east (three of course, even though there is no evidence that there were actually three), and an innkeeper who allowed Mary and Joseph to stay in a stable out back for the birth of Jesus because no rooms were available in the inn. And I survived. As a biblically trained minister and scholar of practical theology – I survived.

One reason I survived – with little to no reaction – was that I had just experienced something so moving it made me weep. The little kids had sung a song about peace. They were Kindergarten and First Graders – all dressed up in red, green, and white with their hair (for the most part) just right and their smiles so big they lit up the room. And as they sang, I thought about the 20 little kids who were killed last week in Newtown, CT. The similarities were eerie. There were a few little boys with mussed up hair and little girls with bows and hairclips. There were missing front teeth and fidgety bodies. There were beaming parents with handheld video cameras catching every moment of their song – a song about peace. It was almost too much to bear.

But I heard the words and saw the smiles of the kids and parents and knew we were experiencing a moment of amazing grace. Many of these parents had hugged their little ones more tightly over the last week and prayed for those who couldn’t do that anymore. Many of those kids had asked if they were safe at school and their parents and teachers did all they could to reassure them.

Many of them were unaware why the audience seemed to react more to them than to any other group singing that night – but we all “got it.” We saw the little faces of “our” kids but were symbolically seeing the little ones from Newtown. When the crowd applauded louder than normal – the kids took an extra bow. And we knew why we were so touched. I doubt they did but it was profoundly powerful.

The entire show was full of big smiles, cute kids, one or two out of tune singers, a few forgotten words to songs, parents beaming and catching every second on digital memory cards. And it was a sign that we can continue to live fully – even in the midst of the mess of death and horror – and that God is with us in the midst of our grief.

We prayed for those families and lit a candle in remembrance. But we did not need that to bring the irony of these adorable little kids in front of us to remember but what a gift to witness their spirit and delight.

And at the same time to be reminded that we have to be better … we have to end this horror.

Preaching Joy

Recently I was asked by a former student how to adequately express joy in a sermon without sounding “slap-happy.”  The preacher had been told by several members of her congregation that she sounded a bit sappy when she talked about the joy we can all find in our faith.  They just didn’t “buy” her joy when she preached.

I am not even going to go into the fact that there is a significant possibility that the comment was sexist – since it possibly was.  And I am not going to touch the fact that preaching without joy seems oxymoronic in most circumstances (however I admit there are times when abundant joy is not appropriate – like Good Friday and other more solemn occasions).

So here’s the deal.  Preaching with joy is important.  The people in our churches and communities of faith are often in search for a good word, a spark of hope, and a sense that God is present.  Going into the pulpit prepared to speak a word of grace, hope and joy is important.  Doing so is imperative in today’s climate.

But it also must be done with sincerity and authenticity.  Perhaps my former student’s presentation of the Gospel’s joy was not in character with her normal pulpit presence or was in contrast to her physical presentation.  Maybe she was exhibiting a joy that was not related to the text of her sermon.  Perhaps she had not prepared her people to receive a message of joy.  Maybe – just maybe – she was out of touch with her people and did not realize they were not in a place of hearing joy.

There is more to preaching than exegeting (doing research, study, interpretation, and analysis on) the text and writing a sermon manuscript or outline.  One of the most important pieces of preaching involves exegeting the community.  We have to know our people in order for our words to better reach them.  We have to know what is going on in their lives, in our community, and in their faith journey.

Taking the time to really get to know our people puts us in the position to be able to relate what we are doing from the pulpit in ways that connect the text to their lived lives.

Being authentic and showing who we are in ways that communicate the Gospel’s joy and its passion is imperative. Many in and outside of the church today feel a disconnect between their lives and the Gospel message preached in our pulpits. They need to feel God’s presence, to hear a word of grace and hope, and to experience moments of awe and joy.  

And they also need to feel the passion of Christ’s suffering and death, the feelings of “lostness” in the parables of Jesus, and to learn to experience the transformation of lives brought about by the life and death of Jesus.

We are called to share this – all of this story with our people.  We are called to share this message as authentically and connectively as possible. We are called to be honest and “real” in our preaching. We are called to know our people so that all of this is possible.

So get to know your people … spend time with them, learn what is important to them, study and play with them, and let them get to know you. If you do this … they can hear the joy, the hope, the passion and the amazing grace you are called to preach to and with them.

Preach away folks.

Sharing Something worth Sharing

One of my friends posted John Wesley’s Holy Club Questions today on Facebook.  I had not read them recently and they instantly brought me right back to my UM Polity and Doctrine course in seminary at Saint Paul School of Theology in Kansas City, Missouri.  It was an amazing moment of memory and connection.

If you are not familiar with them, here they are:

• Am I consciously or unconsciously creating the impression that I am better than I really am? In other words, am I a hypocrite?
• Am I honest in all my acts and words, or do I exaggerate?
• Do I confidentially pass on to another what was told to me in confidence?
• Can I be trusted?
• Am I a slave to dress, friends, work, or habits?
• Am I self-conscious, self-pitying, or self-justifying?
• Did the Bible live in me today?
• Do I give it time to speak to me every day?
• Am I enjoying prayer?
• When did I last speak to someone else about my faith?
• Do I pray about the money I spend?
• Do I get to bed on time and get up on time?
• Do I disobey God in anything?
• Do I insist upon doing something about which my conscience is uneasy?
• Am I defeated in any part of my life?
• Am I jealous, impure, critical, irritable, touchy, or distrustful?
• How do I spend my spare time?
• Am I proud?
• Do I thank God that I am not as other people, especially as the Pharisees who despised the publican?
• Is there anyone whom I fear, dislike, disown, criticize, hold resentment toward or disregard? If so, what am I doing about it?
• Do I grumble or complain constantly?
• Is Christ real to me?

Several of these jumped out at me, but the one that constantly brings me up short asks, “When did I last speak to someone else about my faith?” 

Sharing something “important” in our lives takes place hundreds, if not hundreds of thousands of times, on Twitter and Facebook every minute of the day.  People tweet what they are doing in 140 characters or less even if it seems trivial or pointless to others.  People update their status on Facebook whether it is about an awesome cup of coffee, a gripe about their job, or a life changing event.  We sit around dinner tables at home and in restaurants telling others about things that we did during that particular day.  Sharing daily events happens all the time.

But faith is something we could be sharing more often than most of us currently are.  The question asks, simply, are your talking about your faith with others?  And more pointedly, when was the last time you did so?

My faith is vital to who I am.  Living my faith is a daily activity.  Walking with God is essential to my life.  Being part of a community of faith is my lifeblood.  Taking time to pray is a daily ritual.  Being a servant for justice makes my faith walk and talk in the world.  Following the example of Jesus is something I strive to do always.

But again, Wesley asks, “When did I last speak to someone else about my faith?”  For me it’s easy.  I had a talk about my faith on the plane coming back from Texas earlier this month after my seatmate asked what I do for a living and got curious.  But before that - and outside of the classroom or pulpit - it has been a while. And I need to be better about that.

Sharing our faith is an important part of our lives as Christians.  But we often fail to do so.

Why?  Fear, lack of experience, discomfort sharing personal faith stories, lack of relationships with those who we could share with, anxiety about sharing too much, tensions in our own faith lives, and many others keep us from sharing our faith.

Sharing our faith starts with creating relationships – in our work places, in our communities, in our families, in our social networks, etc.  Being ourselves and sharing who we are as people of faith can be as simple as sharing a prayer on Twitter or Facebook, as personal as talking about our church or faith community with friends, or as profound as bringing another person to faith through our words and witness.

We have to start somewhere.  So this week … share your faith with others.  Do it in subtle, simple ways to gain confidence … then you will feel even more comfortable sharing your faith story with others down the line.

Sharing has to start sometime.  What better time than now?

I Do Not Resolve ...

 This weekend is full of traditions.  We will ring in the New Year at home watching favorite movies and will eat black eyed peas on New Year's Day so we will have good luck.  We will call our family and wish them a great year.  We will stay off the roads and away from drunken revelers. 

And we will skip the New Year's Resolution thing.  I have given up on this tradition.  Too many folks make meaningless promises, break them too quickly and then feel guilty.  So I will skip the meaningless resolutions.  I will not resolve to stop something or start something new.

However, there are some things I will continue this year. 

I will continue to love God, follow Jesus, live my faith and share it with others.  I will continue to love my family beyond words.  I will continue to parent my child and hold him accountable for his mistakes, while also letting him know how much I am proud of him. 

I will continue to teach my students with all that I have in me.  I will continue to support the causes that are important to me - progressive politics, gun control, ending domestic violence, supporting women's causes, and others.

I will continue to spend time working to end economic injustice and hunger.  I will continue to work to end straw gun purchases in Philadelphia.  I will continue to be proud of my church and the advocacy we are involved in.

I will continue to love action movies and mystery novels.  I will continue to enjoy the TV shows I love to watch.  I will keep on blogging and studying social media and preaching.  I will continue to support my family and friends in their dreams.  I will continue to be a fan of the Dallas Cowboys and the New York Yankees (even though it causes me grief in Philly). 

I will continue to be obsessed with Dr. Who and Torchwood.  I will continue to be upset when stores put out Christmas stuff before Halloween.   I will continue to be silly with my son.  I will continue to tell jokes badly and to laugh as often as possible.  I will continue to be happy with who I am.  I will continue to pray for those in need and believe in the power of those prayers.

So I am not resolving to do anything new next year.  I will continue to be me and all that that implies.  God made me … God loves me … and God will continue to guide me.

May you continue being who you are and who God made you to be.   May God guide you into the new opportunities this coming year allows.  May you continue to love God and share that with others.  May you know peace and may your faith continue to give you strength.

Happy New Year.

Advent and Christmas Are Not for Sissies!

Christmas is an amazing time of year.  It is filled with shopping trips and lists of things to do.  It is filled with writing cards and spending time on line at the local post office.  It is filled with family gatherings and craziness with relatives you seldom get to spend time with.  It is filled with rich food and too many snacks sitting around to munch on.  It is filled with long lines and gift returns.  It is filled with company parties and too many adult beverages.  It is filled with hectic schedules and stressful travel arrangements.  It is filled with rushing about and feeling behind too much of the time.   It is filled with much, too much that can drain us spiritually and emotionally from the true meaning of the season.

But the Christmas season is not yet here – it’s close but it has yet to arrive.  We are still in Advent – the liturgical season of preparation for the coming of the Christ child - despite how we might be living in the present.  Advent is a time of expectant waiting and anticipation for the Second Coming of the Christ as well.  It is about being ready.  It is about preparing ourselves to receive this amazing gift.  It is about celebrating the first coming while preparing for the second.  It is the beginning of the liturgical year, but too often we rush through it without embracing the opportunities it affords.  I have seen far too many examples of this in the past month.  And I have fallen victim to it a few times as well.

We want to rush through Advent to get to Christmas as quickly as we can.  We rush into singing Christmas hymns because we cannot wait.  We rush into the stores at midnight on Black Friday because Christmas shopping cannot come too quickly.  We rush into the joy of Christmas without wanting to experience the despair often associated with anticipation and waiting.

Rushing past the waiting is easy.  Waiting for the coming of Christ is hard.  It’s not for sissies.  It means embracing the reality of being on a journey that brings us closer to God and closer to the coming of our Savior.  But it means waiting in the brokenness.  It means taking the journey without shortcuts. 

We wait for a Savior that comes to heal our broken world, who comes to free the captive and give sight to the blind, who comes to bring justice to those who are afflicted and oppressed, who comes to make the world what God intends, who comes to bind our wounds, who comes to make things right.  But we have to wait and prepare for that coming.

Waiting is still where we sit – for a few days more.  If you, like me, have rushed too much into the Christmas Season too quickly – take these last few days and nights to truly prepare.  Take these last few days to wait expectantly.  Take these last few days to hear once again – or for the very first time - the lyrics of the great hymn, O Come, O Come, Emmanuel.

Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

O come, O come, Emmanuel,
And ransom captive Israel,
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear.

Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Wisdom from on high,
Who orderest all things mightily;
To us the path of knowledge show,
And teach us in her ways to go.

Refrain

O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free
Thine own from Satan’s tyranny;
From depths of hell Thy people save,
And give them victory over the grave.

Refrain

O come, Thou Day-spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here;
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night,
And death’s dark shadows put to flight.

Refrain

O come, Thou Key of David, come,
And open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high,
And close the path to misery.

Refrain

O come, O come, great Lord of might,
Who to Thy tribes on Sinai’s height
In ancient times once gave the law
In cloud and majesty and awe.

Refrain

O come, Thou Root of Jesse’s tree,
An ensign of Thy people be;
Before Thee rulers silent fall;
All peoples on Thy mercy call.

Refrain

O come, Desire of nations, bind
In one the hearts of all mankind;
Bid Thou our sad divisions cease,
And be Thyself our King of Peace.

Refrain

Worship is Not Just for “Natives”

The other day I was asked by a pastor friend why some of his newer members sometimes ask “clueless questions” about worship.  “They should know this stuff,” he said.  It was an “aha” moment for him when I asked if these folks had grown up in the church.  They hadn’t.  Then he said, “Well, I guess I’m the clueless one.”  It was an odd conversation because I would think it was obvious – but all of my church visits over the past few years have proven how out of touch many of our churches are with those who did not grow up in the church.

I have led, participated in, and sat in worship services all of my life.  I was raised as a Preacher’s Kid and have been a United Methodist clergyperson for 20 years.  Being part of that means I have been in a lot of worship services.  One thing I have worked very hard to keep in mind as a worship leader is that not all of the folks sitting in the pews know the language, practices, and rituals of worship.  Many worship services assume a level of understanding that is just not true anymore.

People are not as denominationally loyal today as they once were and many have not grown up in the church.  When they do make the effort to come to church seeking a connection to God we should do all we can to welcome them and make the worship service as accessible as possible.  First and foremost we need to create worship that is awe inspiring and praises God.  We need to create worship that connects us to God, makes the Gospel story of Jesus Christ come alive, and empowers us with the Holy Spirit.  We need to create worship that is rich with the sacred and ritual that help us experience God’s presence.

However, we too often create worship that is for “natives” – those who are part of the insider culture of the church.  We too often create worship that is not inclusive of children and folks not part of the traditional church culture.  We often create worship that does not speak fully to the needs of the people in our pews and definitely does not speak to the needs of those who are not usually present.

I am not saying we do worship poorly.  We often do amazing worship.  We frequently create and participate in worship that feeds the people present.  We often lay out a banquet of Gospel and Grace that nourishes and enlivens.  However, too many are still walking away starving.  Our worship is regularly too heady and lacks passion and engagement.  And often it assumes a level of experience and knowledge that is dangerously unaware.  We use books for worship that can be confusing and difficult to use – and we do not help people with them.  We use prayers and litanies that insiders know and others do not – and we assume those not used to the words will figure them out.  We use language that not everyone in the room understands – and hope they “get it.”

I think we all need to examine our worship and our preaching to make sure it is accessible to folks who may not know the secret handshakes or have insider status in our churches.  We need to use language and images that bring life and depth to our worship and preaching that anyone could understand.  We need to enrich our worship and spirituality with rich spirituality.  We need to create environments of welcome and are multi-sensory. 

We definitely need to feed the folks in our pews, but if we starve those who show up without experience in our faith traditions – we have failed them.  We can do better.

A recent article on United Methodist Communications website addresses this topic and offer 5 trends in worship to address the needs of those who are not traditionally part of our worship.  You can see this article at -http://www.umcom.org/site/apps/nlnet/content3.aspx?c=mrLZJ9PFKmG&b=6084879&ct=11231005&notoc=1

Being Inspired

I was asked recently what inspires me.  I had a hard time answering the question.  Not because I did not know what inspires me, but because there are so many ways to answer that question. 

I get inspired in my personal life by beautiful nature, blessed friendships, connections to family, the laughter of my child, walks in the woods, awesome sunsets, opening buds of flowers, changing colors in the fall and so many other things.  I also get inspired by music, art, pop culture (some, not all), movies, and stories of overcoming obstacles. 

And I get inspired by the turn of a fantastic double play by baseball players who are paid too much, but jump up and down like little boys when they make a great play.  I get inspired by theater and a lofty song sung from the heart by a tremendous talent who has committed to their craft for years and paid their dues.

In my professional life I get inspired by the work of other homileticians (preaching professors) who work to teach their students options to express the Gospel in ways that engage and lift the people in their pews.  I am inspired by my students who reach for new learnings - sometimes forward bursting with enthusiasm, sometimes backward to safe shores, and sometimes shakily with fear and trepidation but who reach anyway. 

I am inspired by the affirmation of others who like my work. I got some of that this past weekend in Austin at the Academy of Homiletics.  Folks responded to my work and asked me questions that will lead me into further exploration.  I sat with PhD students who shared what they are working on and it inspired me to keep at it.  I had breakfast with fellow scholars from Drew University who are in the Academy and heard ways they are doing fantastic things in their field with the education they received from that institution. I got inspired by being in the room with some of my heroes of the art of preaching and hearing their stories of teaching and preaching.

I am inspired in my spiritual life by great preaching (of course), rituals that move my soul, the singing of many traditional hymns and some contemporary stuff, meditation and prayer, reading the Bible, working on a sermon, being in cathedrals and back rooms of pubs doing worship, talking about my faith with other journeyers, and feeling the breath of God.  I am inspired by the social justice work done by so many churches and individuals on so many issues - but especially working for the poor and marginalized.

I am inspired by the questions my teenage son asks about life and death, the ways my church celebrates the Eucharist, the prayers of the people of God lifted in unison, and the lighting of Advent candles in preparation of the Coming of Christ - as a babe the first time and again in the Second Coming. 

These are just some I the ways I am inspired generally and how I have been inspired this past week.  I hope you have a hard time answering that question, too.  I hope it is hard to think of an easy answer because so many different things inspire you in many, many ways.

I thank God for inspiration and for the opportunity to use those inspirations in my life, my work, and my faith.

Being Part of the 10% ... Having An Attitude of Gratitude

A favorite image of forgiveness to preach about this time of year is the passage in Luke 17: 12-19 of Jesus healing the ten lepers of their disease.  In the text - as Jesus is passing by them - the ten leprous men cry out for him to heal them and he tells them to go show themselves to the priests. As they went they were healed. All ten are miraculously healed by Jesus but only one of them returns to Jesus to give thanks for that act of compassion. 

Much is made of only one returning.  Most talk about the lack of gratitude on the part of the nine who left and never returned.  Some will talk about the fact that the others may have been so overwhelmed with their ability to reconnect that they rushed to be with their friends and families or that they left to go profess thanksgiving in their own faith traditions, but the one who came back to give thanks gets the most mentions.  The nine are often chastised as being ungrateful, even though we have no clear idea why none of those nine returned.  The point of the use of this text is the gratefulness of the one.

So the logical question for this Thanksgiving Week is to ask how grateful we are. Do we have an attitude of gratitude? Are we part of the 10%?

I know this past week or so I have had some amazing experiences:

·         My son turned 13 and his team won their soccer league championship game

·         I became ill and had great health care options to get better

·         I was asked to preach at RevolutionNYC Church in Brooklyn and had a blast doing what I love

·         My father had foot surgery and came through with flying colors

·         I am off this week and get to enjoy some resting, writing, and being with family time.

These are all things that I am extremely thankful for, but there are so many more.  I am thankful for my home and the roof over my head.  I am thankful for the heat that keeps my family warm and the food in our cupboard that keeps us fed.  I am thankful for my education and experience that allows me to do what I love for a living.  I am thankful for my sisters who keep me sane and help me through tough times (even though they can sometimes also drive me insane).  I am thankful for my parents who are healthy and active into their late 70s and who have supported me so amazingly throughout my life. 

I am thankful for those people who have fought for my freedom in the armed forces and in civil rights and social justice movements throughout our history.  I am grateful for my faith and all of the people who led me to understand God in ways that make me strong as a disciple of Jesus Christ.  I am grateful for my church family that blesses me weekly with their worship and willingness to support each other.  I am grateful for my denomination, even though I disagree with it on several key issues.  I am grateful for new trends in creating and being church that gives me hope for faith communities of the future.  I am grateful for the school that my son goes to and for the education he is receiving.  I am grateful for friends and family who are special parts of my life journey.

I am grateful for the opportunities that living in America provides and for the responsibilities I have as a citizen to hold my country’s feet to the fire.  I am grateful for Occupy Wall Street and the ways they are calling for justice and economic balance. I am grateful for the election process that lets us get to know our candidates, even though they make me crazy with their limited plans, promises and partisanship. 

I want to be part of the 10% this week … but more than that I want to be part of the 10% all year long.  I want to live with an attitude of gratitude.  I want to turn around and walk back to the one who makes me whole and say “Thank you, Jesus.”

Baseball and Preaching … Perfection or Not?

Picture by Jaime Gage-Chavez

I love baseball.  I don’t mean I lightly love it … I am a bona fide, died in the wool, Baseball Hall of Fame card carrying, countdown to Spring Training, love ‘em even when they are losing kind of fan.  From April to October my computer and cell phone help me check scores and standings on a daily basis for my team – the New York Yankees.  I watch as many games as I can.  I JUST LOVE BASEBALL!!  I think it’s a perfect game.   It has amazing history – including Lou Gehrig’s historic speech, Babe Ruth’s called shot, Willie May’s over the shoulder catch, Bucky Dent’s amazing homer over the Green Monster, Jackie Robinson’s entry into the big league, Cal Ripken Jr.’s 2,632 consecutive games played, and so many others.

 

It has stats like no other sport around.  You can find out how one pitcher throws to left handed hitters in the month of April or how many hits Derek Jeter has to left field over his career after two strikes.  And it has perfection – not just the perfectly manicured lawns, stately stadiums, and glorious nights under the lights.  Baseball has something, however, that no other sport really has – in baseball a pitcher can throw a perfect game.  That means 27 hitters come up to bat and 27 batters are retired.  It means not one batter reaches first base in an entire game.  Only 20 pitchers have thrown perfect games in MLB history.  It is a rare and amazing feat.  Only one perfect game has been thrown in a World Series game (by Don Larson of the NY Yankees).  Perfection.

 

But perfection is hard to come by.   And in most other professions perfection is nearly – if not totally – impossible.  I am a preacher and I can say without a doubt that I have never preached a “perfect” sermon.  I don’t even know what that would look like.  In baseball if you get a hit a third of the time you come to bat you are a hitting hero – hitting 3 of 10 times at bat.  Babe Ruth hit 714 homeruns over his career, but he also struck out 1330 times.  He said once, "I hit big or I miss big.  I like to live as big as I can."

Nowhere near perfection but these types of hitters are revered as the best of the best.   So maybe in preaching the Gospel of Jesus Christ I should look for three good sermons out of ten.  However, I do not think the congregations we preach to would be ok with that.  Preaching the story of Jesus and God’s interaction with humans over the course of history is a powerful calling, but those who preach also are human.  Sometimes we strikeout, sometimes we hit it over the wall, sometimes we hit a little dribbler right back to the pitcher, and sometimes we never make it to first base despite all our efforts.  But God does something with our words anyway.

Preaching is an act of faith, a discipline of study, a creative endeavor, a Spirit-led process, and a powerful experience of community.  Preaching takes all our efforts to analyze a text, to relate that text to the lived lives of our people, and then to deliver it with passion, conviction and enthusiasm.  It takes practice to gain the confidence to move into the “batter’s box” and take a swing.  But God calls us to swing away.  We may never preach the perfect sermon.  We may not hit one over the wall on a regular basis.  We may even strikeout a few times even when we thought we were prepared.  What preaching takes is the courage and commitment to practice, get prepared, and to take a swing.  

What preaching takes is knowing we are not in the batter’s box alone – that’s our advantage – as we are filled with the power of the Holy Spirit to speak the Word.  What preaching takes is going up to hit – knowing you might strike out a few times, but trusting the Holy Spirit to use even those sermons to touch the lives of those who hear our words.  I LOVE baseball … but I LOVE preaching even more.  I’m not perfect in either one.  And that’s ok.

Preach the Gospel … use words if you have to.  But preach the Gospel in all you do.  That's perfection!!

Walking on Holy Ground with Jesus

I have never been to the Holy Land but my parents have been there several times and brought me back several items from their time there – water from the Jordan River and several wood carvings made from Olive wood from the Garden of Gethsemane.   Every time I see them I am reminded of the holy ground on which Jesus walked, taught, preached, healed, and prayed.  They remind me of the places where he was arrested, tried, beaten and crucified.  They remind me of the road he walked carrying the instrument of his death to the hill called Golgotha.  They remind me of the ground outside of the tomb where Jesus spoke to Mary.  They remind me of the resurrection of Jesus – where he walked out of the tomb and defeated death.

Holy ground is something I find interesting.  I may have never been to the Holy Land but I have walked on holy ground – when I walk to the pulpit to preach the Gospel, when I walk among God’s amazing nature, or when I walk with my son on a beach talking about life.  The truth is – all ground is holy ground because all ground was made by God and gifted to us for nurturing and care.  All ground is opportunity to walk with God in holy companionship.  All ground is rich with possibilities for our lives and faith journeys. 

Holy ground is also the name of our new sandwich and beverage shoppe on the campus of LTSP and every time I walk into the building and see the signs – I am reminded of the holy walk we are called to walk in faith.  During Holy Week we walked by faith, we walked a path from “Hail Him” to “Nail Him” from Palm Sunday to Good Friday.  We walked the holy days of Triduum to Easter Sunday as companions together on holy ground.  On Easter Sunday we walked the path with the women as they ran to tell the disciples about the resurrection.  This Sunday we heard again the story of Thomas – faithful Thomas – who walked with Jesus despite the danger to bring Lazarus back from the grave.  Amazing journeys we are called to walk every year and every day as companions with Jesus.  

Now … and always … remember that we walk on holy ground.  Have a blessed journey.