Wesley :: Devotional :

A place to call home

2008-06-07T13:18:00.004-07:00

by Brian Indrelunas, Wesley Council member

I can feel at home anywhere, I always tell myself. Every time I visit or revisit a city, I seem to fall in love with the place and make mental plans to move there someday.

It happened a few weeks ago when I traveled to Washington, D.C., for United Methodist Student Forum. It happens whenever I go to South Los Angeles to volunteer or work for Sierra Service Project. Perhaps the only exception to the rule is my deep aversion to ever living in Gallup, N.M.

Having grown up all over the United States (I had lived in five states by age 15.), home was always a fluid concept for me.

So, of course, when I landed in Cape Town, South Africa, at the beginning of my semester-long internship at the Cape Times newspaper, I quickly fell in love with the city that many of my friends had called the most beautiful they had ever seen and I began to think about how I could make a return trip to stay for good — or how to accidentally miss my flight back to the US at the end of the semester.

And over the course of nearly three months, I had some amazing African experiences. My internship at the Cape Times placed me within arm’s reach of a cheetah, upon the flight deck of a warship at sea, and in touch with a renowned South African theologian. In my more touristy moments, I rode to the top of beautiful Table Mountain in a cable car, took a ferry to Robben Island, where Nelson Mandela and other political prisoners were once held and met new friends hailing from all around the world.

But as I saw the sights and reported the news, I also had another, equally valuable experience: While I was correct in presuming that I could make almost any place in the world home, Gallup notwithstanding, in South Africa I learned what it actually takes to truly feel at home.

Unlike all my other travels, which have sent me to faraway locales for only weeks at a time, I set up residence in Cape Town for a matter of months, and I did so as an adult. No longer did I have my family along with me to ease the transition. No longer did I have a new school full of kids my age with whom I’d spend most of my days.

Because I lined up my internship myself, I found my own place to live using online classifieds. I booked my own plane tickets. I organized my own weekend plans. There was no tour guide, no professor leading the trip, no organization or university handing down an itinerary.

It was like a trial run, with a set end date, of being a truly independent adult — minus the fact that my hostess offered to do my laundry for me. (Independent adult or not, that’s an offer that very few 22-year-olds can refuse.)

For the first few months, I relished my newfound, though temporary, status as an independent adult who worked all day, paid rent, and ironed his own shirts — after Eileen had washed them. Still, it all seemed just like the shorter vacations that I had taken to other places around the U.S. and around the world.

But there’s something special about the two-month mark. All of a sudden, what once felt like a vacation started to feel like a long-term move.

After two months in Cape Town, the city began to feel less and less like home. Although I had done a good job of finding a place to rest my head at night and an internship that kept a passion for journalism running through my veins each day, I had neglected to find a home for my soul.

Sure, I had attended worship services once or twice at Central Methodist Mission, just around the corner from the Newspaper House. But working on Sunday kept me away many weekends, and I found it difficult to make my ever-shifting lunch break fall exactly at 1 p.m. on Tuesdays so that I could attend Central’s midweek service for working folks.

That would have been often enough for a vacation, but I found that if I were to ever call Cape Town home for the long-term, I’d need to be a part of a church family in a way that requires more than just dropping in for worship once a month.

Still, even though the realization that I hadn’t connected to any sort of community of faith in my temporarily adopted hometown was a sad discovery to make, I consider myself fortunate to have realized what I was missing.

That’s because for the past four years, I’ve found that type of community at Wesley Campus Ministry. Years ago, a past campus minister had Wesley-themed notepads printed up that called our campus ministry “a place to call home.” Knowing how Wesley stationery tends to hang around forever, there may still be some of those notepads floating around the Baker Center, but even if they’ve all disappeared, the long-ago slogan is still something that holds true for Wesley. Our campus ministry provides a much-needed spiritual home for students who come from across the country or even (as in my case) from another part of the Valley.

Even while I was slacking off and not fully engaging with the big-C Church in Africa, I still felt connected to Wesley from afar, thanks to the periodic messages sent by e-mail or Facebook detailing the latest happening that caused people to rhetorically wonder, “Where is Lunas?! Why isn’t he here?” Now, as I start to look toward graduation and the prospect of being an adult indefinitely, I’m ready to take what I’ve learned from my trial run and search for a new place to call home, not just in employment and housing ads but also in the church.

It’s my hope that I can find a community as uplifting as Wesley wherever I move next, and it’s my prayer that back here in the Valley of the Sun, Wesley will continue to offer a spiritual home to many more students in the years to come.

Brian Indrelunas is a senior at Arizona State University majoring in journalism and mass communication. He has attended Wesley since his freshman year and is currently a member of the Wesley Council and Wesley's Board of Directors.

You Graduated! Now What?

2008-05-18T16:34:00.004-07:00

Attending ASU or another Valley college or technical school in the fall? Whether you are looking to begin or continue your spiritual journey we hope you will check out one of our many welcome events when the semester starts. Until then, we want to know who you are so we can get to know you better and you can get to know us. Sign up for our e-newsletter or send an e-mail to valleywesley (at) gmail.com to request more information. You can also stay up to date right here at ValleyWesley.com. Keep checking back as we will be adding many exciting new features including an interactive prayer section to the site. Congratulations on graduating from high school, we look forward to meeting you soon! Many blessings on you during your summer break.

Oh yeah, you don't have to be an incoming freshman to check out our ministry. Wesley is made up of all sorts of undergraduate students, graduate students, and those from community colleges and technical schools. While many students have United Methodist backgrounds we have many students who are not currently or have never been Methodist. We hope you will join us too!

Peace,
Pastor Rob

"Don't Give Up"- A Meditation on the Beginning of Lent

2008-02-06T11:07:00.001-07:00

Not too many years ago I was in Seminary and was taking my first major theology class. We spent the semester studying all the usual suspects like Augustine, Aquinas, Luther, Calvin, Wesley, Barth, feminist theology, constructive theology, liberation theology, process theology, neo orthodoxy and so on. Near the end of the class we were asked to turn in a draft of our final assignment: a review and critique of many of the theologians we had studied, ending with a section of our own beliefs and convictions.

I spent endless hours re-reading sections of the many theological volumes we were assigned. I engaged each theologian summarizing their main points and then going on the attack, tearing them down on any point I could. I ended my paper railing against the doctrines of old as outdated and irrelevant. In my final paragraph I justified my reflections on the premise that theology needed to go in a new direction for the 21st century and the Augustine’s and Luther’s of old were irrelevant. I proudly turned my draft in convinced it would come back with minor comments and little need for revision.

The next week, however, I received my draft back, dripping in red ink. According to my professor I had done a great job telling him about everything I did not believe, but nowhere in the paper could he find what I did believe. I had spent so much time focusing on the negative that I completely missed the point of the assignment.

Today marks the beginning of the Lenten season. A season of deep personal reflection and practice of the spiritual disciplines of prayer, fasting, and meditation. What we really tend to focus on during lent though is the negative- the practice of giving something up. It’s usually something we think will be difficult for us to give up, like a favorite food, eating out, shopping, or in the case of a friend of mine who will be giving up TV, except in the case of watching DVD’s or going to the movie theatre. But is the season of Lent really just about giving stuff up or is it about something more?

In some ways Lent is about giving up, letting go, and starting over. Mostly this is to come in the form of repentance from sin. We take this season to reflect on our lives, to take inventory about all the negative things that have built up in our lives and we come before God to ask for forgiveness and a chance to start over. In this sense Lent is certainly about giving up, the giving up of sins rule over our lives. I would like to believe though that this is just the first step of Lent. From there it’s less about giving stuff up and more about taking something on.

By focusing on the negative things in our lives we take inventory of where we stand before God and our neighbor, however, if we stay focused on the negative we miss out on the positive. So what then is so positive about a season focused on inner contemplative reflection that culminates in the violent acts of Christ’s arrest, trial, and crucifixion?

The positive comes in that initial recognizing of sin in the world and then beginning the journey of repentance. It is the recognition of the forces that bring darkness and death to the world and then taking action to confront those forces with the love of Jesus Christ. I would suggest then that this Lent we take something on instead of or in addition to giving something up.

Henri Nouwen was a Catholic priest, writer, and peace activist who devoted his life to helping others and inspiring people to practice peace. In an essay titled “Celebrating Life,” Nouwen suggests in the struggle against evil and oppression in the world our focus must be firmly fixed on life and not death. His point is that instead of engaging in a sort of spiritual and especially in physical warfare that we focus on only things that bring life. Instead of trying to battle the forces of darkness we turn from them and take on the qualities of Christ, qualities of love, joy, and compassion. Here the focus turns from a battle of good vs. evil or us vs. them and does not turn into a battle at all. Instead we say Yes to life and silence the power of death through how we live our lives and work to transform the world.

Indeed as we enter Lent and head towards holy week the violence of the cross uncomfortably looms ahead. As strange as it may sound though, Jesus’ death on the cross is a radical statement of non-violence. Instead of engaging his accusers with violence and resistance, Jesus chose a non-violent form of opposition. Instead of giving into the powers of violence and death he chose the life giving powers of non-violence and forgiveness. His actions exposed a vicious world of violent sin that seeks to silence and even kill those who make a stand for God’s Kingdom where a voice is given to the voiceless. Jesus’ entire ministry offered us an alternative vision to a world set on death and violence.

Through his non-violent response to this world Jesus calls all of us to participate in God’s Kingdom and not in the kingdom of sin and death. Christ continues to expose this world and calls us to repent from it and transform it through actions of peace and justice.

So this Lent instead of giving something up or in addition to giving something up will you take something on? Will you take on the task of making your life and making our world a more peaceful place? A few weeks ago our conference released a Lenten devotional on peace. The devotional suggests seven things we can do to bring peace this Lenten season and beyond.

First we are challenged to respect self and others, to avoid uncaring criticism, hateful worlds, physical attacks, and self destructive behaviors.

Second, to communicate better, to share feelings honestly, to look for safe ways to express anger, and to work at solving problems peacefully.

Third, to listen carefully to others, especially those who disagree with us, and to consider other’s feelings and needs rather to insist on our own way.

Fourth, a focus on forgiveness, practicing justice and not vengence.

Fifth, to respect nature, to treat the environment and all living things, with respect and care.

Sixth, to play creatively, to select entertainment and toys that support or family’s values and to avoid entertainment that makes violence look exciting funny or acceptable.

And finally, to be courageous, to challenge violence in all its forms whenever we encounter it, whether at home, at school, at work, or in the community, and to stand with others who are treated unfairly.

These are all actions we can take in our everyday lives to focus on the positives of peace and not the negatives of violence.

When I went back to write my final draft of my theology paper I approached it completely differently. I made a rule where I could not use the phrase “I do not believe.” Instead I would only frame my statements in the positive. Needless to say my final effort was more productive and actually helped me be inspired by the positive aspects of theological doctrine throughout the centuries. I was able to form a coherent and meaningful set of beliefs that has shaped my life and ministry.

I think if we can begin to stop focusing on the negative in our lives, in the news, and in the world and instead focus on the positive aspects of living lives of discipleship, we may find this Lent to be more meaningful than ever. So don’t give up this Lent. Don’t fall into a spiritual depression. This is our time to focus on how our lives and our actions can bring the love, joy, and compassion of Jesus Christ into a hurting world. Amen.

[download the peace study here: http://desertsouthwestconference.org/churchsociety]

Theological reflections on the film 'The Golden Compass'

2008-01-16T20:01:00.001-07:00

by Rob Rynders

Recently the film The Golden Compass was released and promptly caused a stir among circles of Christian debate. I had at least three different invitations to groups on Facebook asking that I boycott the movie and the books. Now, if you know me I am the type to be suspicious of anything that asks me not to do something, so I promptly decided I should take a group of Christians to see the movie. The controversy over the movie is similar to that over Harry Potter and even the Lord of the Rings films to an extent. All of these films have been charged with promoting witchcraft and Satanism and Christian groups worldwide have made the claim that if we see these films we could corrupt our faith and belief systems. Compass, however, has stirred additional controversy because the author of the book, Phillip Pullman, that it is based on (the first of a series) has taken a public position against organized religion and many argue the series was written to deter children from being a part of religious groups and many are angry because the plot of the series is to kill a character named “God.”

I would like to make the argument, however, that whether it was the author’s intent or not that Compass actually portrays a post-modern notion of God and religion that is relevant for our faith and the church. I left the movie with the impression that the plot was not to bring down organized religion, but in fact it was to challenge the rigid and corrupt structures of organized religion that sometimes seek to suppress knowledge and progress for its own self-preservation. Although the movie has reduced the religious overtones of the book I believe the religious critique still remains.

The plot of the movie revolves around a little girl named Lyra who is torn between loyalty to her uncle, a free thinking academic/explorer, who is seeking the “truth” that uninhibited knowledge and science can bring and Mrs. Coulter a representative of “The Magesterium,” the controlling government that wishes to maintain the status quo. Lyra’s uncle has discovered a substance called “dust” that acts in a sense as a person’s soul, enabling them to have free will. Without giving away too much more of the movie plot, the battle over the ability to have free will and the extent to which we should have control over it is the overriding theme. The “Magesterium” seeks to rid the world of the knowledge of dust while those like Lyra, her Uncle and a cast of others seek to stop the Magesterium of their quest.

The movie is a bit more detailed and complicated, however, I believe it makes a valid point about government and religious structures as they exist today. It can be strongly argued that while we are “free” in America that many of our liberties have been placed on hold in the name of freedom, safety, and protection. It is argued that giving up a bit of our free will we will be better off in the long run. This too is the idea in much of organized religion and is currently one of the main controversies in the United Methodist Church. The question is, how much leeway should be given in theological debate and in formation of official beliefs of the UMC. Should we allow free exchange of thought and debate over doctrines of salvation, Christology, scripture, moral behavior, etc.? Should these beliefs and doctrines always remain fluid and subject to our changing world as we discover more about science and continue to expand the realm of philosophy and religion? Or are we better off sticking to tradition, letting a few leaders decide what is best for all?

I believe the critique of God specifically in the film can also be seen in a way other than God as a jealous tyrant who wants to limit our free will. So often we only think of God in a limited sense, that God is distant from the world and only acts through supernatural means (miracles and such) and that God punishes and rewards as God pleases. What if we see God in the movie on the side of Lyra and her allies engaged in a battle against the demonic (much like the imagery in the Lord of the Rings)? As a God working to bring freedom and justice to a world covered in darkness, selfishness, and injustice. A God that works in and through all things at all times bringing transformation and redemption to a corrupt place. Would it not be just to attack a vengeful and evil God? In fact at the end of the series the “God” that is killed turns out to be a false representation of God. Could one not agree then that it is a good thing to unmask and bring down the false gods of injustice, violence, and oppression? I believe this series of books critiques the false gods of punishment, favoritism and retribution that a very large number Christians worship. Indeed the God we know and worship is the God represented in Jesus Christ, the God of love and justice who walks amongst us, not the God represented in The Golden Compass or the other books in the series.

Of course the next question would be does the destruction of this false god have to happen through acts of violence? Are the Magesterium and Mrs. Coulter worthy of redemption and forgiveness? Should truth and freedom be attained and protected only through magnificent battles between good and evil? Can our free will be preserved through non-violent acts? Is a world filled with peace and justice only truly possibly through means that are peaceful and just? Is the “peace” that violence brings real peace? Of course a movie that spends the last hour or so with all the characters sitting around a negotiating table is probably not as exciting as an epic battle scene. And perhaps the final film in the series will come to a more creative solution.

Overall I believe we must critique notions of God, religion, and government that in turn command us not to. We must engage these sorts of films and books in debate and conversation and look beyond what we think they may or may not be about. Our faith and beliefs go far beyond our local churches and Sunday school classes. Our response to these controversial issues must come through scripture, tradition, reason, and experience. Our ability to have free thought is in fact a gift from God and must be used responsibly. Movie reviewer Roger Ebert states that Pullman’s series of books has been more popular in the UK because Britons may represent “more confident believers whose response to other beliefs is to respond, rather than suppress.” Whether you agree with me or not I encourage you to see the movie, read the books, and engage others in serious and open discussion as opposed to outright rejection.

Questioning Minds

2007-09-11T10:16:00.000-07:00

During our September 5th Wesley gathering I asked students to write down the top theological, religious, doctrinal, or church related questions that were burning on their minds. There were a number of questions and many very deep questions that I received on those pieces of paper. Needless to say we all have questions along our journey of faith and some of them are more easily answered than others. Often times though in our faith lives many of our questions go un-answered or receive what may seem to be a "textbook" answer that really does not satisfy our curiosity. I pledge not to run away from these questions and I promise not to give you canned answers. I will use this space to answer some of these questions formally and I am always available for personal meetings or during small group time on Monday nights to discuss the questions you may have about Methodism, evil, sex, other religions, relationships, discipleship, judgment, afterlife, the bible, atonement, etc. I can't guarantee that you will like my answers but the point isn't for me to cram anything down your throat either. The point is that God gave us our "questioning minds" and like the multitude of Christians before us we can all struggle together to find our identity as Christians living in an ever-changing world that is in constant need of Christ's love and compassion. I look forward to you joining me on the journey.

Peace,
Rob

Sermon: Finding the Perfect Storage Unit

2007-08-09T11:54:00.000-07:00

Finding the Perfect Storage Unit
Rev. Rob Rynders
Sunday, August, 5, 2007
Tempe 1st UMC

One of the things that comes with being a United Methodist pastor is that every year you are not quite sure if you will be staying at your current appointment or if you will move to a new one. If you do get moved to a different appointment sometimes it may be close enough that you can stay in your current home, but often it involves calling the moving company. The same goes for being a college student. Another population that is also always on the move are college students. Often times college students live in a different place every year of school. This is my first year as a UM pastor, last year was Melissa’s first year, and for 9 years before that I was an undergraduate or graduate college student. Needless to say I have moved 9 times in the last 10 years. Each time this involved packing up everything I own and for 4 of those years everything both of us owned. It was pretty easy at first. My first year of college all of my belongings, minus a little bit of furniture, fit into my four door car and there was still enough room for my mom to ride shotgun. As the years went on each move required bigger and more transportation for all of my stuff. I soon went from needing a pick-up truck, to needing to also use my friends truck, to needing four friends vehicles, to a U-Haul truck, to a large moving company truck, and then one and a half moving trucks this last move. Now to be fair, all of my sister-in-laws belongings were included in this last move.

I am not sharing this with you to brag about how much stuff we have acquired over the years but to illustrate a fact that all of us can relate to. No matter how much we try, unless we are forced to, most of us end up with more and more stuff as the years go by and not less and less. Our garages and closets are full and we sometimes consider renting a storage unit from one of the many storage unit companies that we see all over town. Recently one of our friends moved back into her parents house with her husband while they wait for their new house to be finished next month. Of course they had to find somewhere to store their things so they spent a day checking a bunch of storage unit companies. They searched and searched visiting companies with security gates and surveillance, lighted units, 24 hour access units, and the one they finally decided on that has all of those things plus air conditioning. Can you imagine what our spiritual lives would be like if we searched for a relationship with God and neighbor as hard and as seriously as we need for places to store all of things we have collected over the years?

That’s what today’s parable is all about. It’s not one of Jesus’ parables that is subtle, symbolic, or metaphorical. it’s meaning is not meant to be difficult to figure out. In fact it’s pretty straight forward, and that’s what makes it so difficult to hear and to admit that it applies to us.

In the NRSV translation this is story is called “The Parable of the Rich Fool.” Today we take the word fool to mean dumb, or stupid, or gullible, or all of the above. In the Bible, however, to call someone a fool means to call that person arrogant, and that is the precise attitude that the rich man in the parable has. As Jesus describes, the man has accumulated an extra yield from his crop and decides that instead of giving the extra grain to those who need it and not wanting to let it go to waste decides to build larger storehouses as a sign of his wealth and success. The man, however, does not have much time to enjoy is prosperity because God comes to him and calls him a fool and tells him that his life will soon end and everything he has stored up will no longer be of use to him. The point of this parable is simple, no matter how much we have we can’t take it with us when we die. If our goal in life is to have the most stuff by the time our lives on earth come to an end then this parable is a reminder that those who focus on storing up treasures for themselves will be left disappointed. Instead, through this parable, Jesus calls us to an attitude that is entirely different. In a world and society that tells us to buy, collect, and save as much as we can, we, as the body of Christ, must live as alternatives to the world of materialism and model the Kingdom of God by storing our treasures with God through living lives of justice, compassion, mercy, and discipleship.

I think, perhaps, that the fact that we have messy and overcrowded garages and some of us own storage units is not going to ruin society or keep us out of God’s good graces. It is when our individual attitudes of greed and materialism come together with many other individuals that we walk a dangerous line of neglecting and fracturing our relationship with God and neighbor.

I recently read an article in a business magazine that detailed the boom of the bottled water industry. Never before have we spent so much money on something that we can get practically free. Here are some bottled water fun facts:
-24% of the bottled water we buy is tap water re-packaged by Coke and Pepsi.
-Fiji water produces more than a million bottles a day while more than half the people in Fiji do not have reliable drinking water.
-We pitch into landfills 38 billion water bottles a year—in excess of $1 billon worth of plastic.
-If the water we use at home cost what even cheap bottled water cost our monthly water bill would run $9000.
-Worldwide 1 billion people have no reliable source of drinking water; 3,000 children die a day from diseases caught from tainted water.
-Finally my favorite: If you bought a bottle of Evian water for $1.35, for the same cost you could refill that bottle once a day for 10 years, 5 months and 21 days.
-Now bottled water in and of itself bottled water is not evil. There is of course the fact that we give hundreds of cold bottled water to our homeless population each week because of the extreme summer heat.
-Many also advocate that we reduce, reuse, and recycle our use of plastic water bottles and each time we buy bottled water we can remind ourselves of steps we can take to bring clean and safe drinking water to the rest of the world.

While water often sustains life we also know that it takes life. We are quickly approaching the two-year anniversary of hurricane Katrina. There are still neighborhoods that are not rebuilt and may never be and not surprisingly it is the poor and the ethnic/minority persons who have still not recovered. We can rest assured though that hundreds of millions of dollars went into fixing the Louisiana Superdome so the Saints have a place to play football. While that feat was a symbol of hope for some, it made many of us think that recovery and rebuilding efforts were finished despite the fact that thousands of persons are still without homes. Fortunately, this church and many other churches still recognize the need in New Orleans and have and will continue to send work-teams to that area.

One of the most disturbing figures of how we spend money as a society is how much do we spend on war. According to The National Priorities Project every week we spend a minimum of $2 billion as a nation on war. There has been an over $6 billion cost to Arizona taxpayers over the last four years, or roughly what it would cost to hire over 145,000 school teachers, 148,000 public safety officers, or to provide1.4 million scholarships for university students. No matter how you feel about war it seems if we can spend that much money on death we should be able to spend at least as much on life.

So how can we make sure we are storing our hearts and our lives in God’s Kingdom not storing them in material things and physical storage units? Perhaps the perfect storage unit is the Kingdom of God, this storage unit, however, only takes acts and attitudes of love, justice, mercy, peace, compassion and equality. What are some practical ways then that we can make sure our focus is on the Kingdom that is among us?

-Look at where our money goes, what are our priorities when it comes to spending money? Do we invest in or support organizations that harm the environment or violate human rights? Do we spend frivolously on things we don’t need or even necessarily want?

-And not just money, but time. Can we spend our time volunteering for an organization or advocating for a just cause?

-Do we spend enough time with God? Can we spend more time tending to our spiritual lives?

We must also remember the difference between the good life and the blessed life. Sometimes we feel like even though we have been blessed that we still need to be blessed some more. If we are blessed are we living as a blessing to ourselves or to others who are in need?

We are called to seek an alternative life than the one that is presented to us on TV and in advertisements. We are called to live simply and give abundantly.

I have spent most of my ministry working with youth. On every youth mission trip I have led I required that the teenagers leave their ipods, and CD players at home, so they can be more focused on building community rather than spending their free time in a corner listening to their music. They always fight me at the beginning and some of them go through personal listening device withdrawal for the first couple of days. By the end of the week, however, every youth has practically forgotten that they even owned a pair of headphones. The experience of living in community, sleeping on the floor, and spending their day selflessly helping those in need replaced their need to constantly be connected, wired, and plugged in. For most of these youth, although they promptly find their ipods as soon as we return home they now realize that life is no longer centered in a click-wheel but that life is something bigger than themselves.

When we are intentional about living and focusing our lives in Christ by being rich towards God we experience not only physical but also spiritual transformation. Being rich towards building God’s Kingdom helps us to follow Jesus’ call to discipleship. God works in us to be in closer relationship with God and neighbor, and creation. God multiplies our ability to be more loving and compassionate.
Our lives become less stressful and we feel better about ourselves when our focus is on God and an outward relationship to the world.
And finally, our relationships with our families, friends, co-workers, classmates, neighbors, and yes, even strangers become stronger and more fulfilling.

So is this parable about giving away every thing we have and living in poverty or is it about being responsible and generous with what we have? I think it is about both, depending on what God is calling you to do. Many Christians throughout history lived without owning anything and gave their lives to serving the poor and many still do today. For most of us, however, that is not what we are called to do. Believe me, I have my share of stuff and gadgets. I think though that the struggle can be more difficult for the haves than the have-nots. I only mean this in the sense that at every moment Jesus calls us to be generous and self-less givers, to close the gap between rich and poor and to break down barriers of injustice in whatever form they exist. And sometimes it is harder to be generous when we want to protect and are fearful of losing everything we have ever accumulated for ourselves. The best thing, however, about worshiping a loving and gracious God is that even when we ignore those moments where we can make a difference God does not abandon or forsake us; God is constantly offering us another chance. So think about those places in your life where you can scale down and live more simply. Think about how God is calling you and all of us as a church to not store up treasures for ourselves but how to live richly toward God and all of creation. In the name of Jesus Christ, may it be so. Amen.

Who needs a shepherd?

2007-04-25T17:31:00.000-07:00

"He restores my soul..."

-from the Twenty-third Psalm

This is the week when many churches read the Twenty-third Psalm. You probably know it:

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters; he restores my soul. He leads me in right paths for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff— they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long.

It's famous. You can hear it quoted in movies or books. It's part of popular culture; you can listen to an NPR radio show discussing the power of the psalm in people's lives. You can read about it in wikipedia. It's funny - it's so familiar, it's easy to forget how beautiful it is. And yet, for centuries, people seeking comfort have turned to these words to remember God's mercy and to feel God's presence.

It's little wonder. Which one of us doesn't need a shepherd on some days? Someone to care for us, to love us, to protect us. Who wouldn't want such a God?

And yet, some people might say that this psalm captures part of what's wrong with the whole idea of religion in the first place - that people use the idea of God to feel safe, instead of dealing with the world. We hide behind the idea of God (some might say) because we're fearful, or lonely, or because we want to be in denial about the realities that surround us. Grow up, they might say: the human race doesn't have a shepherd. If we did, we wouldn't be in the mess we're in. Better instead to give up your illusions, and face up to things... use your brain, don't act as a sheep just because you wish you had a shepherd.

What do we say to that?

I don't doubt that people can hide behind the idea of God. I have met people in church who seem to think of God as a sort of personal fairy godmother - always there with a magical solution to any problem that comes up, ready to grant a wish and get rid of those messy details that we'd rather not deal with.

But I don't think that's the sort of faith that God calls us to. The psalm reminds us - we can't escape the dark valleys; no one will walk through them for us. Religion doesn't make everything okay. When I hear Christians promise such things, I am troubled: surely our world is not a place where God has made everything okay. But we're not alone.

And that's the whole point. Our faith doesn't let us retreat from the world, or our fears, or the suffering and grief that come with life. But by God's grace, we can meet those things and so much more with courage, with hope, with trust, and even with a sense of humor. We can find God's presence with us in the most difficult of places, and know that life will have the last word.

Life will not always be good or merciful to us. Religion that pretends to protect us from bad things is a false religion. But God's goodness and mercy are always with us, and that is good news, good news that gives us a reason to get up in the morning. And that's what the psalm is all about - God is there in the midst of all things, though we'll still have to face them. Thanks be to God.

Are you ever tempted to hide behind your faith? How can your faith lead you out into the world with courage and with hope?

No Words for Today...

2007-04-17T15:45:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I sat down at the computer to write a devotional and instead found news of the tragedy of Virginia Tech. I never quite thought of anything to say, and have felt much the same today. Perhaps you haven't been sure what to say, either.

Here's a prayer, though, that I thought would be worth sharing....

Peace,
Sara

A Prayer in the Face of a Rampage Shooting

by Taylor Burton-Edwards

The bullets ripped their flesh,
and tear our souls, Lord God.

Flashing from nowhere,
unseen, unforeseen, perhaps unforeseeable,
lives of promise ended,
others mangled by hot steel
and the shrapnel lodged in hearts too stunned to cry.

How long, O Lord? How long?

And for the shooter, Lord,
Forgive.
What break in heart, or mind, or flesh
moved, possessed, demanded him
to stalk these down like prey?
We cringe,
paralyzed before the mystery
of evil.
We open our mouths,
and join the silence of the disbelieving.

Hear us, Lord.
(Silence)

Heal us, Lord.
(Silence)

Grant them,
and us,
your peace.
Amen.

••••••

Taylor Burton-Edwards (tburtonedwards@gbod.org) is the Director of Worship Resources for the General Board of Discipleship of The United Methodist Church.

"A Prayer in the Face of a Rampage Shooting" Copyright © 2007 The General Board of Discipleship. This resource may not be reproduced for sale under any circumstances, nor republished on any website or in any other electronic medium without advance written permission. Any local church or United Methodist agency may reprint any or all of this page as long as the following copyright notice appears:
"Copyright © 2007 The General Board of Discipleship. Used with permission."

Where Paths Converge

2007-04-03T09:44:00.000-07:00

O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever.

-Psalm 118:29

Lent is nearing its close. Every year, we make this journey. Perhaps you've had one of those years when this season has felt meaningful, and you know that God's love has helped you to grow in an important way. But not all years are like that. Sometimes, it feels like a routine. Other years, we start off full of hope that we'll grow closer to God, but end the season feeling much as we did at the beginning. Then there are those years when we start off not paying much attention, and then Holy Week sort of sneaks up on us, and we find ourselves sensing God's presence in some new way.

I'm not sure what kind of year this has been for you. But although each one of us must walk our own journey of faith, this week our journeys converge. This last Sunday we joined together on the streets of Jerusalem to celebrate Palm Sunday, shouting hosannas and carrying palm branches. On Thursday we'll follow Jesus upstairs for the last supper, and into the garden to agonize and pray, and then into the halls where power dwells. On Friday we'll watch as he goes to the cross, and then we are left with the desolation of death, just as those disciples are. And yet, we know we'll find ourselves with the women at the tomb, frightened and wondering and glad at the idea that death wasn't the end of the story.

More than any other week of the year, this is the week when we put our own journeys aside, and walk alongside Jesus and one another. We retell the story we've heard a million times and yet can scarcely believe: a story of humility and gentleness; a story of anguish and suffering and despair; a story of grace and hopefulness that is not bounded by death. It's a story we all need to hear, a story we all need to tell, and a story that we long to have as the story of our own lives.

And that's really what Holy Week is all about. Of course, it's the story of what happened to a man named Jesus. But it's also the story of what God does in your life, in mine, in all of creation.

So do try and go to a service on Maundy Thursday, or on Good Friday. Remind yourself of why the story touches your life. That way, Easter morning will strike a much deeper chord - you'll know that new life is for you, too.

Singing Stones

2007-03-26T08:40:00.000-07:00

...The whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the deeds of power that they had seen, saying, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!” Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, order your disciples to stop.” He answered, “I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.”

-Luke 19:37b-40

Next Sunday is Palm Sunday. It's a day that begins the most important week of the church's year. We'll all wave our branches, welcoming Jesus. We're supposed to shout hosanna - or at least sing hosanna - and not be afraid of being heard.

On that first Palm Sunday in Jerusalem, the crowd was anything but silent. The shouted their songs and welcomed Jesus with a celebration that echoed through the streets. The Pharisees, wishing that the crowd wouldn't make such a racket, begged Jesus to stop them. And Jesus simply replied that if the crowd were silent, the very stones would shout out.

Imagine.

When I was a very little girl, hearing this text, I took Jesus at his word: in my mind's eye I saw stones with lips, singing their praises. As I got a little older, and a little more skeptical and a little less imaginative, I wondered what Jesus meant. Surely stones couldn't sing. So what was Jesus' point?

Now, when I hear these verses read, my heart is comforted with the affirmation that there is much more to life, to faith, to God, than just us. And that's what I think Jesus was trying to tell the Pharisees. God is so much bigger than we are. Human efforts and strivings matter, yes. But they're not at the center of the universe, though we're sometimes inclined to think that they are.

If we know that the stones will sing when we are silent, should we be any less eager to raise our own voices? Hardly. The point's not that we shouldn't sing, but that we don't have to carry the song alone. If we want to be at the center of everything, then knowing that the stones will pick up where we leave off probably isn't much comfort. But this is part of the gospel's good news to us: we don't need to carry the song, only to join it. We don't have to sing well enough to make it perfect; after all, it's not resting only on our shoulders. This is a time when we get to sing of God's work, and worry a little less about our own.

Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord. Peace in heaven, an glory in the highest heaven.

Giving Large

2007-03-19T07:58:00.000-07:00

Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.

-John 12:3

Not long before Jesus is betrayed and put to death, some friends had him over for dinner. Martha and Lazarus were there, and a handful of disciples. So was Mary, who wanted to do something for Jesus. And so, as John tells us, she took a pound of expensive perfume, poured it on Jesus' feet, and wiped his feet with her hair. Her gift wasn't a practical one, but it was lavish, and intimate. It's an odd gesture; it's little wonder that it made Judas uncomfortable. He scolded Mary: that money could have been used for the poor! What a waste! It's not right to spend so much on a single gift!

Jesus rebuked him: leave her alone. You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.

What's this about?

True, John's gospel tells us that Judas wasn't really worried about the poor, that he was a thief. But let's just set that aside for a moment, and hear what Jesus says to Mary. Is Jesus really telling Mary not to worry about the needy?

It's very easy for we who are Christians to try to be responsible. I mean, we know we're called to love our neighbors, and so we want to do the right by them. We spend a lot of time trying to figure out what the 'good' thing to do is.

In this story, Mary doesn't seem too worried about what's right. She wants to do something that says "I love you," and she doesn't calculate anything beyond that. The gift is extravagant because it was expensive, but at a deeper level, it was extravagant because she gave it so freely, so willingly. At that moment, she wasn't thinking about whether or not she was a good person, or what the others would think of her. She was focused only on Jesus, and on doing something for him.

During Lent, we spend a lot of time trying to figure out what we need to do to grow in our relationship with God. Where do we need to repent? What do we need to do differently? This is all well and good.

But in this story, Jesus reminds us that sometimes, the faithful thing is to to let our hearts guide our heads. Love with abandon. Don't count the cost. Don't second-guess yourself. Don't worry about whether or not you're giving in the right way: let your love be as lavish as God's. Sometimes the best way to let Christ come alive in us is not to do things right, but to love as deeply and as widely as we can, and then some.

Here are some wise words I've seen attributed to Mother Teresa (or to a poster she used to keep hanging in her office). Wherever they're from, they are good words for all of us:

People are unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered;
Love them anyway.

If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;
Do good anyway.

If you are successful, you win false friends and true enemies;
Succeed anyway.

The good you do will be forgotten tomorrow;
Do good anyway.

Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable;
Be honest and frank anyway.

What you spent years building may be destroyed overnight;
Build anyway.

People really need help but may attack you if you help them;
Help them anyway.

Give the world the best you have and you'll get kicked in the teeth,
Give the best you've got anyway.

After all, it was always about you and God.
It was never between you and them anyway.

*****

Mary loves Jesus without calculation, and Jesus tells us that this is good. How can your love be more like Mary's this week?

Penance

2007-02-20T15:47:00.000-07:00

Ash Wednesday, which we'll celebrate this week, begins the season of Lent - a time to ponder those things which separate us from God, and to return to God. That's what repentance is all about.

Of course, what repentance will look like in your own life will depend on you. In some faith traditions, people talk about doing 'penance' for their sins. The idea isn't that you have to somehow pay God back for the mistakes you make, but that there are things you can do to help you in turning away from sin and toward God. Thinking about it in this way, penance makes a lot of sense to me. Here's a poem from Kathy Galloway...

"Penance"

for self-absorption
– many hours in the company of three-year-olds

for carelessness
– a year’s close study of an elder tree

for injustice
– giving thanks for the rain and sun that fall on you anyway

for pride
– learning to see the funny side of your coals of fire

What's keeping you from growing in God's grace? What can do to repent, to return to God, to once again come alive in the love that God has for you?

Peter... He's no Lewis Libby

2007-02-11T18:39:00.000-07:00

When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.

-Luke 9:36

Jesus and some of his disciples had gone for a hike. Perhaps they enjoyed the scenery, or the exercise, or one another's company. But Luke's gospel tells us that Jesus and Peter and John and James had climbed up a mountain to pray.

While they were on that mountain, something pretty amazing happened. Jesus was suddenly changed. His clothes were a dazzling white; he all but glowed. On top of that, Jesus was standing with Moses: the one who led Israel out of slavery and through the wilderness, the one who gave Israel the law that God intended to bind them all together. But not only did Moses show up - so did Elijah, one of Israel's many great prophets. Elijah had quite the resume, so far as prophets go - a resume which included the fact that he was reported not to have died, but to have been swept up into heaven with his mind and body quite in tact. So, there they all are: Jesus is radiating some other-worldly light, surrounded by a veritable who's who of Israel. It was a big deal.

The disciples were awe-struck, as one might rightly expect. If John and James were able to say anything at all, Luke's gospel doesn't tell us about it. Peter, as per usual, stuck his foot in his mouth. "I know, Jesus! I know! Let's build tents! One for Moses, one for Elijah, one for you!" You can almost see Jesus roll his eyes. Having missed the point, Peter invited one more display of divine presence: a cloud descended upon them, and a voice from the cloud rang out: "This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!" The voice hushed. The cloud dissipated. Moses and Elijah were gone, and Jesus was left alone, standing there in his normal, non-glowing clothes. Time to go back down the mountain.

When they got to the bottom of the mountain, the disciples were silent. Luke tells us: "When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen."

Maybe it's because I live in a world filled with journalists and bloggers and gossips, but I think that if this happened today, the whole world would find out about it. I can't for the life of me fathom why the disciples kept it a secret. I mean, Jesus didn't tell them it was classified information or anything. And who cares about secrets, anyway? What with all the talk of CIA leaks, it's hard for me to believe that Peter, James, and John wouldn't have mentioned this experience. Or is God somehow less interesting than international intrigue?

This has gotten me thinking: how much of our faith do we share? When we experience God's presence, what do we say about it? Whom do we tell?

I know, I know: you'll quote St. Francis and tell me: "Preach the gospel at all times; when necessary, use words." You'll remind me that words can be weak; it's better to show our faith in how we treat others.

And I'll say: good point. Actions can be a powerful witness to the love and compassion of God. (Etc, etc, etc.) But do we really tell nobody anything? Sure, we tell each other - we get together and talk about God and faith and that's great. (I mean it - it really is great. No sarcasm here.) But who else do we tell? And if we don't tell anyone else, why do we keep silent?

I am relieved to hear words that Jesus speaks elsewhere in the gospel: if you are silent, even these stones will cry out. God's Kingdom doesn't rest just on our efforts, and that is good news indeed. But let's not leave it all to the rocks. We have good news to share - with actions and with words. How will you share that good news this week?

Already/Not Yet

2007-02-04T21:45:00.000-07:00

Then [Jesus] looked up at his disciples and said: “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh."

-Luke 6:20-21

In Wesley's weekly gathering, we've been reflecting on the Beatitudes from Matthew's gospel... blessed are the poor in spirit, blessed are those who mourn, blessed are the meek. This week in the lectionary, we find Luke's version. It's not exactly the same, but it's pretty close.

Rather than focus too much on the individual verses, let's have a look at the big picture. I suspect that none of us wants to be poor, or hungry, or sad. And yet, Jesus tells us that there is blessing in that, for one day things will be reversed.

It's the reversal that catches my attention. Things will not always be as they are now. Well, okay. I think we can all go for that. Right? Of course, if we're rich, full of good food, and happy about everything, then Jesus' words ought give us pause. (Read a few verses ahead in Luke's gospel, and it will give you something to think about!) Well, okay... maybe we're not so sure about this whole reversal thing. Who wants to be told that they're blessed if things are lousy now; they'll be okay later? I'd be more interested in a quicker solution. And who wants to hear that what they have will be taken away? Not me.

It doesn't take very long before Luke's gospel doesn't sound like good news at all.

But if we go down this road, I think we're missing the point. Let's try it this way...

I'm intrigued that Jesus doesn't say, "Blessed will be the poor, for theirs will be the kingdom of God. Blessed will be you who are hungry now, for you will be filled. Blessed will be you who weep now, for you will laugh." The blessing is in the present tense, in the midst of the poverty and hunger and grief. Why?

Here's my best guess. Jesus is here; Jesus is coming. Blessed are you now, and blessed will you be. It's what I call the "already/not yet" part of our faith. Grace is with us, here and now. And yet we continue to wait for more. God is doing good things, and yet we look for the good things we long for God to do. This is part of what it means to be a person of faith.

By proclaiming that something good is beginning, Jesus changes the present, not just the future. This is part of the mystery of faith; this is what hope is all about. The kingdom of God is already here; those who are participating in that kingdom in the midst of their grief already see a glimmer of joy, though that joy is not yet complete. And those of us who come to the kingdom burdened with riches are learning to let go, though we are still learning. And so on.

The kingdom is here, and it's coming. Either way, it's good news.

The Hard Part

2007-01-29T09:34:00.000-07:00

Then Jesus said to Simon, "Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people." When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.

-Luke 5:10b-11

Any story that ends with a guy leaving everything to follow Jesus is bound to give us pause. We can't help but ask ourselves: would I leave my stuff, my job, my family, my life? Even if Jesus did come strolling by, would I really want to go? What could Jesus say that would make me want to go?

Well, what does he say to Simon? (That's Simon Peter, by the way... this is the guy that Jesus will later charge with building the church.) Simon and his pals were fishermen, and had spent hours fishing at the lake of Gennersaret, where they'd had no luck. Jesus gets into one their boats, and has Simon push off a little ways from shore. He tells Simon to put their nets in the water, to try again.

And you know what? Simon does it. This is the first thing that impresses me about him. He might have said, "Give it a rest, Jesus. I'm done fishing today." But he doesn't. Maybe he thought Jesus would really change things. Maybe he thought Jesus was crazy, but figured he might as well give it a try, anyway. He drops his nets.

And wouldn't you know it? Luke's gospel tells us that "they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break" (vs. 6).

Simon was impressed, as were James and John. More than that, really: they were frightened. Who was this guy? Anyone with two ounces of sense might have gone home and written a book about it. But Jesus told them: "Don't be afraid. From now on you'll be catching people."

"Whatever that means," I imagine them wondering silently. But whatever their questions might have been, they went with Jesus. Just when they'd hit the fisherman's jackpot, they left it all. And, though they couldn't have known it at the time, they'd gone on an adventure that would consume the rest of their lives.

Simon Peter lets Jesus in the boat in the first place. He dares to try again, and drops his net in the water. He leaves a boat-full of fish, along with the rest of his life. He follows Jesus. That's a lot of daring for one day. None of those things were easy, none of them had been in Simon Peter's game plan when he awoke that morning.

Which of these difficult things would you do? Which of them seem too hard? What do we miss when we decide to skip the hard stuff?

Going Home

2007-01-22T07:22:00.000-07:00

And [Jesus] said, "Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in the prophet's hometown."

-Luke 4:24

Jesus grew up in Nazareth, and then he went a way for a little while. When he came back, the folks in the synagogue apparently invited him to read from the Scriptures, and to teach the people about what was in them. His words were surprising. And then, in this week's reading, we find Jesus musing on how hard it can be to come home. What prophet is accepted in his own hometown? Certainly not Jesus. In the end, he speaks his mind, and angers everyone. He narrowly escapes getting hurled off a cliff at the edge of town. (Hopefully, your homecomings aren't quite that problematic!)

Whether or not you think of yourself as a prophet, perhaps you've had moments when you felt it was hard to go home again. People had old expectations of you, and they didn't really fit with how you'd changed and grown. People assumed you'd be the same person you were when you'd last been around.

Or perhaps you find it a relief to go to the place where you grew up. Maybe that's the one place where you can let your guard down, the place where you feel most like yourself. Or maybe you find yourself having all kinds of mixed feelings about trying to go home again - some days it works, and some days it doesn't.

When Jesus went back to Nazareth, he wasn't the same person he'd been when he left. He'd been baptized, for one thing. He wandered in the wilderness, grappling with who he was, and who God was calling him to be. He saw his life differently. He had a new sense of purpose, and it changed everything he did. It changed how he saw the world. That's a lot to carry back into one's home synagogue (or church). Everyone just saw Jesus as Joseph's son, the kid who'd grown up playing in the neighborhood. Do any of Jesus' experiences sound familiar?

I don't know about you, but I find immense comfort in the idea that God knows what it's like to grow up. After all, who is Jesus but God in the flesh, living with us, living as one of us? God knows what it means to negotiate all the pitfalls of growing and changing and becoming an adult. God knows what it's like to discover new meaning in life, and to struggle to share that meaning with those who still see you as a kid. It's a process that looks a little different for each of us, and at some point we all have to find our own path... but it's not a path we have to walk alone. God's been there, and God walks the road with us. We may have a hard time in our hometown, but God's love is always a place of welcome and understanding. That's a lot to be thankful for.

Setting Your Agenda

2007-01-15T08:40:00.000-07:00

When [Jesus] came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. Then he began to say to them, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”
-Luke 4:16-21

Jesus gets baptized. He goes out into the desert to contemplate who he is, and what his life is going to be about. And then he heads back to his hometown, ready to get started. He goes to synagogue, as he always does--nothing unusual about that. He reads from the book of the prophet Isaiah. And then he sits down. Again, nothing weird. It was the custom to stand to read, and then to sit down, among the people, to preach. Everyone watches him - not because he's strange, but because this what you do - you wait for the preacher to get started. Up to this point, Jesus is doing pretty well.

Then he says something that turns their world upside down. "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing."

Surely not, they must have thought. He's crazy. He's an idealist. He's a dreamer. He's lost his mind. He's arrogant. He's confused. No doubt they had a hundred reasons not to believe him.

Can you blame them? They lived in exile. Their land was occupied by Rome. Life was not fair, not just. People were poor. People were sick. People were difficult to get along with. Families fought. Decisions were hard. How could Jesus say that Isaiah's words had been fulfilled? They were looking for a vision of a new world, a day when things would change for the better, a day when they would be free from all life's burdens, and all would be well. Little wonder that, just after this week's text, they run Jesus out of town. Sometimes it's easier to get rid of someone than to take them seriously.

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

Is it any easier for us to believe Jesus than it was for the people of Nazareth? We who go to church and call ourselves Christians--is it any easier for us to believe that these words have been fulfilled, that God's kingdom is here?

With a new semester gearing up, perhaps you're eager to settle into a new routine. Perhaps you're eager to get everything under control... but where might God have other ideas?

You never know--God might show up and say: Something big is going on in your life right now. Something big is going on in the world right now. You're invited to be a part of it. Bring good news to the poor. Proclaim release to the captives, preach recovery of sight to the blind. Let the oppressed go free. Proclaim my favor.

God's kingdom is always here, and always coming. You and I are invited to respond to that every day of our lives. We can hear God's love for us, and share the good news with the world. Or we can run God out of town. What are your plans for the next semester?

Who can stand?

2006-12-04T14:10:00.000-07:00

The messenger of the covenant in whom you delight—indeed, he is coming, says the Lord of hosts. But who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears?
-Malachi 3:1-2

Years before Jesus was born in a Bethlehem stable, the prophets of Israel hoped for his coming. They talked of the messiah--God's messenger--arriving in their midst, healing and renewing God's people. It all sounded wonderful and good. If only it were that simple.

The prophet Malachi knew that good things don't always come easily. So in the midst of talking about the coming of the Messiah, he asked tough questions: who can endure the day of his coming? Who can stand when he appears? No wonder the prophets tended to be unpopular. No wonder the people didn't always listen. It was easier not to.

It's still easier to ignore the hard questions. Most of us don't want to spend too much time trying to answer them. We look forward to God showing up in our lives in some new way, but we want it to be an easy experience.

But let's wrestle with the question for a moment. When the Christ-child arrives in the manger; when God's presence in our lives is experienced in some new way, will we be able to stand it? Will we endure?

Let me phrase Malachi's question a little differently. What parts of us will be left standing? What parts of us wouldn't survive? What is it in our hearts that will allow us to grow closer to God? And what do we have to let go of in order to know God's grace?

The prophets knew that the decision to follow God, to love God, is a costly one. Our faith in God demands that we let go of fear, of anger, of bigotry. Our faith demands that we care about others as much as we care about ourselves. Our faith demands that we live our lives in a way that expresses God's deep compassion for all of creation. This is not easy. Part of us will not endure, will not stand.

Such is the way of faith. Death leads into life. A journey that seems hopelessly impossible gives us joy that we would not have dared to imagine. In risking getting lost, we find that we are found. The foolishness of the gospel shames our wisdom. And this is why we observe Advent; why we wait every year for Jesus to show up. We know that not everything about us will endure, but we trust that the child in the manger will lead us... not only to the cross, but to new life.

When John the Baptist was preparing people for the beginning of Jesus' ministry, he preached a message that was not easy... and because it was not easy, and required change, it was full of hope. He quoted the prophet Isaiah, saying: "the voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth; and all flesh shall see the salvation of God’” (Luke 3:4-6).

In your own life, what are the valleys that need to be filled, the mountains that need to be leveled? What are the crooked paths in your life? Blessings on you as you prepare the way of the Lord in your own life this Advent. May you see the salvation of God. I hope you'll share your journey with us.

The waiting begins

2006-11-27T09:18:00.000-07:00

Lead me in your truth, and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation; for you I wait all day long.
-Psalm 25:5

Next Sunday will be the first Sunday of Advent. For those of you who don't schedule your life by the church calendar, Advent is the season before Christmas: four Sunday of waiting for the Christ to be born. It's how we begin the Christian year - waiting.

Waiting is part of life. Sometimes it's exciting. Waiting to move out, to see a friend, to hear of the birth of a child, to take a trip... this sort of anticipation can be wonderful. These are the times when waiting is half the fun. Then there are times when waiting is stressful. Waiting to hear about that new job, or about the tests at the doctor's office, or about a loved one who is dying can be harder. But there's no way around it: we all have to wait.

Waiting is also a part of our spiritual life. We wait for God. We wait to hear God's voice, to know God's will. We wait for God's presence to feel real, and we wait for God to bring healing and transformation. As people of faith, we are asked to trust that God is our salvation. So even as we experience God's love at work in our hearts and our world, we're still waiting for more of the same. We wait for God's salvation to be complete. Our hope tells us that the waiting is worth it, but that doesn't make it easy.

Some two thousand years ago, God showed up in a new way. In a Bethlehem stable, a child was born... an infant who was small and vulnerable and completely dependent on others to take care of him. But in time, that child grew, and reached out to share God's love with the world. In all of this, God was present with us in a new way.

God is still appearing, still appearing, still surprising. And just as the prophets waited for the Christ, we still wait for God to show up in our lives in a new way. During this season of Advent, take some time to ask yourself: where in your life are you waiting for God? How do you keep the faith while you wait?

If you need some encouragement, perhaps these excerpts from Psalm 25 can help...

To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul...
Make me to know your ways, O Lord; teach me your paths.
Lead me in your truth, and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation;
for you I wait all day long.
Be mindful of your mercy, O Lord, and of your steadfast love,
for they have been from of old.
Do not remember the sins of my youth or my transgressions;
according to your steadfast love remember me, for your goodness’ sake, O Lord!
Good and upright is the Lord; therefore he instructs sinners in the way.
He leads the humble in what is right, and teaches the humble his way.
All the paths of the Lord are steadfast love and faithfulness,
for those who keep his covenant and his decrees.
For your name’s sake, O Lord, pardon my guilt, for it is great...
Turn to me and be gracious to me, for I am lonely and afflicted.
Relieve the troubles of my heart, and bring me out of my distress.
Consider my affliction and my trouble, and forgive all my sins...
May integrity and uprightness preserve me, for I wait for you...

Thanksgiving: it's more than the turkey

2006-11-21T13:27:00.000-07:00

Of course, the turkey's great. And I love cranberry sauce and mashed potatoes and gravy as much as the next person. But sometime this week, while you're enjoying a little vacation time and some good eating, remember the gratitude part.

I once read that gratitude is the most important part of a life of faith. Everything else that we do: our prayer, our search for wisdom, our commitment to loving and serving our neighbors... all of this should be rooted in our gratitude to God. Surely, there is much to be thankful for. You can make your own list. We should all do that more often.

Our willingness to be thankful can transform the dreariest of days, and can chase away a sense of despair or hopelessness. Gratitude moves us beyond ourselves, reminding us that the world is full others who are in need, and that God's grace is around every corner.

In your own life, how has gratitude transformed you? What are the corners of your heart that might be brightened with more thankfulness?

Happy Thanksgiving!

Mapping Our Ignorance

2006-11-12T15:14:00.000-07:00

A world map hangs in our kitchen. It’s a large map, perhaps five feet tall and seven feet wide. I use it when I am listening to the news. Too often, I have a hard time with my geography (particularly, I admit, in Africa) and I want to make sure I can picture where a particular event might be happening.

It is a good habit, but of course the problem is that I cannot truly picture very much. I hear news reported from around the world: tales of wars and cease-fires, elections and changing loyalties, upheavals and the strengthening of the status quo. It is good that I learn as much as I can, but I know my limits. I do not know what it is like to be a child-soldier in Uganda. I am ignorant of what it is like to farm in China. I cannot imagine being a journalist in Moscow.

Nor am I able to comprehend our national life. I try to grasp the problems with our health care system, but there are far too many details for me to thoroughly understand them all. It is the same with education, the military, the Environmental Protection Agency. Don’t get me wrong: I am not saying I cannot know anything, or that I should stop trying. It is just that there is too much to know, so I cast my own votes informed as much by my blindness and uncertainty as by my knowledge and convictions.

All this makes me very suspicious when Jesus tells me to go out into the world and make disciples, or when I pray that we might be one in ministry to all the world. It is not that I doubt the intentions behind such things. I do believe that the gospel is real, and that the world is hurting and in need of transformation. But dare I tell someone what their life is missing when I have never set foot in their shoes? And I know our church shares money, and that the money is needed, but surely ministry should be more than that. I fear that, if it were not for occasional offerings, we would have very little connection with most of our neighbors.

I could stop here – and then I would have to go home and tear my world map off the wall, despairing of the possibility of any real connection with anyone outside my country, my community, my church, my self. But I don’t despair. Rather, I’ve learned to hear God’s voice in my ignorance. God calls to us in what we do not know, and speaks to us of the need for humility, and trust, and openness. God reminds us that our wisdom is often foolish, and that we do better ministry with curious minds and searching hearts. In this way, our ignorance becomes a path to God’s wisdom. We find with delight that God’s salvation has already been at work… and that there’s room for us to participate.

Saying Yes to God

2006-11-06T13:59:00.000-07:00

"Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. For all of them have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on."
-Mark 12:43-44

Every day, you and I are asked for something. With election season at its climax, we're asked for our vote. Ads and commercials in every media imaginable ask us to make a purchase. Charitable organizations ask us for money. Campus groups ask for our involvement. Professors ask for our best work. Families ask for our attention. Friends ask for our time. Campus ministers invite us to participate in campus ministry. Each one of us has to make a decision, many times each day, about how we'll give of ourselves: how we'll give of our time, how we'll give of our money, our attention, our love.

It can be daunting, sometimes, to try and discern how it is that we're to give of ourselves. When do we say no? When do we say yes? And once we've said yes, how do we know when we've given enough?

But let me complicate things just a little bit more. God asks to give--not out of our abundance, not just when it is easy or convenient or when it doesn't cost us anything. God asks to give of our very selves, to give out of what is most precious to us. Does this mean that being faithful to God means never saying no? I doubt it.

How do we bring it all together? How do we learn to be generous, while still remaining vibrant enough in our own living that we are still able to give something worthwhile?

A favorite writer, Dorothy Butler Bass, writes that "our spirituality is our capacity to relate to God, to other human beings, and to the natural world... It is about the kinds of persons we are and the kinds of persons we hope to become." She suggests that, in all things, faith is about drawing nearer to God and one another. Sometimes, we need to give of ourselves to do that. Sometimes, we need to say no. But when we say no, it's really part of a bigger 'yes'--we turn down one thing top be more open to something else.

This week, try to look at life in a new way. Think of saying yes to God... and when everyone comes knocking on your door, tell them yes, if God calls you to, or tell them no, as a way of saying yes to God. But in your yes and your no, do it with gladness, with conviction, with trust... for saying yes to God is always more important than the other questions that come your way. Let your no be kind but honest, and let your yes be generous. In this way, we learn to give for the right reasons--not to build up our egos, but to grow closer to God. And that's what Jesus had been talking about all along.

All Saints Day

2006-10-30T09:37:00.001-07:00

"Jesus began to weep."
John 11:35

When Jesus learned that his friend Lazarus had died, he wept. He goes on to raise Lazarus from the dead - a story worth reading. But, for a moment, let's stick with this image of Jesus weeping.

Many of you have already experienced the pain of losing someone that you care about. Somehow, I take great comfort in knowing that this is an experience we all share, even with Jesus. Being able to share such grief in a community of faith is a good thing - good because we're able to offer compassion and sympathy to one another, and good because, at the heart of our community, there is hope. It's our job to share that hope with one another.

This week, the church will celebrate All Saints Day. This is a day when we remember those who have died, particularly in the last year. It's a day when we can share one another's grief. It's also a day when we can speak a word of hope to one another: death does not have the last word. Nothing, not even death, can separate us from God's love and care. And, in ways that are beyond our knowing, all of those who have known death are still somehow present. This is the mystery we celebrate: we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses, and the communion of the saints extends beyond what we can see and hear.

None of this erases the grief. Jesus did weep, and we have, and will, do the same. But our hope changes our grief, for we know that loss is not the end.

This week at Wesley, we'll be celebrating All Saints Day - both with grief and joy. I hope you'll join us.

What makes our faith count

2006-10-23T11:39:00.000-07:00

"Take heart; get up, he is calling you." So throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus. Then Jesus said to him, "What do you want me to do for you?" The blind man said to him, "My teacher, let me see again."
-Mark 10:49-51

I'm sure you can guess the end of the story. Jesus is moved, and tells the man that his faith has made him well. Immediately, Mark tells us, the man regains his sight, and follows Jesus on the way. It's a nice ending, or a nice new beginning, however you look at it.

I have read this story many times, and I always notice something different. Sometimes I notice the quickness of the healing - immediately, Mark says - and wonder why more healings aren't so fast, why there aren't more happy endings. Sometimes I notice that Jesus says it's his faith that has made him well, and I wonder how this man came by such a faith, and how mine measures up. But this morning, as I read this story, I notice something else.

What catches my attention at the moment, I notice the man's honesty, I notice his eagerness to go tell Jesus just exactly what he wants. I wonder if the man felt self-conscious at all. Did he ask himself: should I ask for this? What will Jesus think? Will this work? Did he have all kinds of doubts, but decide to ask anyway? Or did he never stop to ask such questions?

In a sense, it probably doesn't matter. I mean, I don't think there's some formula to healing. We can't figure out how to be just like this guy so that our prayers for healing (or whatever) will be just as effective as his. I don't think that's the point at all.

I ask those questions not because I think there's some formula we can learn, but because it makes me wonder about my own faith.

Am I honest in my own prayers? Do I feel self-conscious in the things I pray for? Do I trust that my prayers make a difference? The answer to all those questions is sometimes. Sometimes yes, sometimes no.

But as I ponder all of that - how the blind man approached Jesus, how I approach Jesus, I remember that, in the end, it's more about Jesus than the blind man or me. What I mean is that, when all is said and done, the blind man didn't need to worry about whether his faith was enough, and neither do I. Neither do you. It's enough that God loves us.

It's good to ponder our faith, our prayer life. But none of that is what makes us possible for us to know God. God's grace is enough, for each of us.

You do not know what you are asking.

2006-10-16T09:08:00.000-07:00

James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came forward to him and said to him, "Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you." And he said to them, "What is it you want me to do for you?" And they said to him, "Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory." But Jesus said to them, "You do not know what you are asking..."
-Mark 10:35-38

You do not know what you are asking. I wonder how often that's true of us.

Jesus' disciples never seem to get it--especially in Mark's gospel. Of all the people in the world, those twelve would be the ones who should get it, you know? They were the ones who got to accompany Jesus day in, day out. They heard what he said--not just to the crowds but around the campfire at night. They saw how he treated others--not just the nameless folks who came seeking a cure, but those whom he knew inside and out. The disciples got to be there all the time, and yet they still missed the mark. Can we sit with you in glory, Jesus? Can we be the ones at the top? I often think it's a great sign of God's grace that he didn't fire the disciples and find twelve new ones, followers that weren't such idiots most of the time.

But, really, who am I thinking Jesus should recruit? Would I do any better? Would you?

Of course, I'd like to think that I would. I can be unselfish. I can pay attention to the needs of the others. I can be open to God's grace dwelling within my neighbors, right? (Even in my enemies, you ask? Well, sometimes.) Sometimes, indeed. There's the catch. Sometimes it's just a lot easier to think about myself, about what I like, about what makes things simpler for me.

While it's easy to come down hard on the disciples in this story, perhaps we should take our cue from Jesus' gentle response. If he rolled his eyes, Mark doesn't tell us about it. Instead, he just tells them: you do not know what you are asking. He goes on to remind them, again: whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant. It's not about who's at the top. Glory isn't what you think. It's not about you.

Those are words that seem simple enough, we should be able to get them, right? And yet I suspect that, like the disciples, we all must learn them again, and again, and again... likely with as much bumbling confusion as the disciples.

One doesn't have to read the gospels very much before beginning to suspect that, really, this whole discipleship thing isn't as easy as we thought. Being a follower of Jesus isn't about believing the right thing. It's not as simple as believing that Jesus saves us. Following Jesus is also about being changed by him, allowing our own concerns and motives and relationships to be changed by the good news that he shares. No wonder the disciples came up short so many times. We all do, every day.

Thankfully, that's not the end of the story. The story of Christianity isn't just a story of people trying and failing. First and foremost, it's a story about people who are loved, and who are changed by that love. Christian faith isn't about getting everything right, it's about trusting that God's grace is at work within us, and trying as best we can to let that work happen.

"You do not know what you are asking." I suspect that Jesus meant two things... one, they weren't asking a very good question; it was motivated by self-interest, not love. But, two, Jesus' words are a reminder that we cannot know where our journey of faith will take us. We cannot know, in advance, how God's grace will change us. That's why this is about faith.

When do you find yourself asking Jesus a question, only to hear his response, "you do not know what you are asking?" Where does Jesus ask you to be more concerned with loving others, and to trust that his grace is at work in you? Where can you trust that God's love can transform you, without being all about you?