On Seeing Christ in the Chaos…

Tags

chaos, control, expectations, God, Good News, gospel, holy, Holy Spirit, Jesus, mess, sacred, scripture, story

Photo Credit:  Charlie Bauer; reuse with permission only

Yesterday at the Godly Play class Hickory Neck offers at The Kensington School, we finally got to tell the Epiphany story – the story of the magi visiting the Christ Child.  As we reviewed the whole story of Advent and Christmas, out came all the figurines of prophets, Mary, Joseph, Jesus, Angels, Shepherds, various animals, and wise men.  Typically, the teacher tells the story quietly, using the figurines, and then we have the kids retell the story, taking turns with the figurines.  And because the class has become so large, we usually have two sets of figurines so we can break into groups.  I would never say the class is perfectly orderly, but it is much more measured than you might imagine with two- to five-year-olds.

But not yesterday.  I’m not sure whether we, the leaders, were off our game, or the kids were still hyped up from returning from break, but the retelling portion of class was utter chaos.  Taking turns fell apart, quiet redirecting failed miserably, and by the time we regrouped to close the class, there was a mass of wooden, sacred figures in a disordered pile.  As we were making our way out, I looked at the pile sadly, grateful that they were all made out of sturdy wood and nothing more destructible, but somewhat disappointed to see such a holy mess.

But as I was thinking about the mess today, I was thinking perhaps my sadness at the chaos was my own “stuff,” having nothing to do with the success of the class.  Too often, we like our Gospel stories neat and tidy.  Too often we tell familiar scriptural stories expecting them to teach specific lessons.  But when we are honest, we know that is not how the Good News works.  The Good News upends worlds, upends social order, and upends our expectations.  Engaging with Jesus is messy work, and sometimes, in the midst of trying to figure out our faith, we end up with a messy rubble in front of us.

I do not know what you are you struggling with today – what things you wish were under control but are actually a mess, or what things you have been expecting from God that just are not how you expected, or what chaos others are making in your life that makes you feel bereft.  What I can tell you is that Christ is there, maybe a bit mired in the chaos too, but there nonetheless.  And sometimes, the mess is just what you need to shake you up and see the movement of God in a new and fresh way.  I suspect things will not turn out as you expect, but then, the Holy Spirit rarely works in ways we expect.  Sending you prayers today, that you might see Christ in the chaos!

Sermon – Matthew 2.1-12, Isaiah 60.1-6, EP, YA, January 5, 2020

Tags

abundance, Bethlehem, Christ, control, Epiphany, God, grace, hide, ignore, incarnation, Jerusalem, light, love, magi, mystery, need, pageant, power, promise, Sermon

At our 9:00 am service today, we honor the feast of Epiphany with our annual Epiphany Pageant.  Every year I love watching the children and youth bring the Christmas story alive one more time.  Part of what makes the service special is hearing the story with fresh ears – not from a clergy person reading from the aisle like every other Sunday, but with a variety of voices narrating and enlivening the words, making the incarnation story more incarnate.  I love how the pageant keeps us in the Christmas moment one more week, and I love how the story brings all our Christmas characters under one roof, reminding us of the continual unfolding of the mystery of the incarnation.  Though there is something certainly endearing about the whole experience of a pageant, there is also something quite profound in a pageant too.

But what pageants can sometimes do is focus our attention so intently on the manger – on Jesus and his family – that we forget what happens outside the manger is just as important as what happens at the manger.  Even our beloved carol “We Three Kings,” draws us to the experience of the magi’s adoration in Bethlehem, without insight into what happens in Jerusalem.  This year, after hearing of registrations, of humble births, of angel choruses, of everyday shepherds spreading the Gospel, and of cosmic explanations of the incarnation, we turn our attention to Jerusalem.  Isaiah gives us some clue about where our attention is drawn.  “Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the LORD has risen upon you…Lift up your eyes and look around…”[i]  The instruction in Isaiah is not for Bethlehem, but the city of Jerusalem[ii] – the city where Jesus’ journey will end, the city for whom Jesus weeps, the city of eventual redemption and salvation.  There, Isaiah foretells of the incarnation, how the people of God are to reflect the light of Christ, and to pay attention to what is happening around them, to God incarnate.

Those words, “lift up your eyes and look around,” have been lingering with me this week.  Instead of looking deep into the scene at the manger or with the holy family, I am drawn by what is happening in Jerusalem.  Three things happen there.  One, we learn more about the magi.  The testimony of the magi is what most of us associate with Epiphany.  Foreigners set out on a quest, more attuned to the cosmic nature of the incarnation than the people of faith.  Their astrological findings do not simply fascinate them, but inspire action – a long, uncomfortable journey to see the incarnation for themselves.  As profound as their witness is, they are not able to complete the journey alone.  They stop in Jerusalem for guidance.  They know they are on the right path, they just cannot quite get to the proper place. And so, the magi stop and ask for help along the way.  They know something significant has happened, but they need guidance from people of faith to fully realize their journey.[iii]

The magi’s insightful question, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews?” is a question that brings in the second action.  The chief priests and scribes, the ultimate insiders of the faithful, those who hold the revelation of scripture and interpret scripture for the people of God, are given news that should be earth shattering.  When asked about the birth of the Messiah, the religious leaders recall what they know of the Messiah:  the Messiah is to be born of Bethlehem and is to shepherd and rule the people of God.  The religious leaders offer the key – the prophecy of scripture about the coming Messiah.  And yet, even though they have this scriptural foundation, they do not react to the news of the magi.  Even though these wise people profess this awaited Messiah has been born, the religious leaders do not drop everything.  They do not even ask to go with the Magi, just to check and see if this story might have something.  They may be versed in scripture, but their inaction shows that even insiders sometimes need outsiders to be faithful.[iv]

Finally, the third thing that happens are the actions of Herod.  Herod is probably the most fascinating to me.  He is wise too, even if he uses his wisdom for his own nefarious purposes.  Herod knows the announcement, even if from an outsider of a new king being born means his own kingship is threatened, and shows how fragile his rule is.[v]  But instead of acting impulsively, he manipulates those around him.  First, he calls in the religious leaders.  You see, Herod is not a Jew – in fact, he is a Roman, serving at the leisure of the kingdom.  But his subjects are Jewish, and so he is wise enough to seek their counsel on what a king, what a Messiah, might look like.  But instead of sending his religious leaders to check things out in Bethlehem, knowing they might discover a true king among them, he secretly sends the foreigners, hoping to manipulate them into doing the work of finding the king, knowing he will get news from them so he can kill this new king.  Herod is only worried about himself and his power, and he will do whatever is needed to maintain that power.

The foreign magi are so unfamiliar with the people of God, they do not initially understand the weight of their question about the new king.  The scribes and religious leaders are so buried in their scripture, and so keen to keep balance with secular power, they do not realize the messianic fulfillment right in front of them.  And Herod is so bent on keeping his power, he does not fully understand the power of God working all around him.  All three of these agents in our story need the words of Isaiah today – all three need to lift up their eyes and look around.

We are not unlike the characters in our story today.  How often are we so mired in our own power – as people of privilege and comfort, as Americans with power more globally, as members and advocates in this community – how often does a word about the movement of God, the promise of change, and the possibility of giving up some of our power to allow that fulfillment, make us just as nefarious as Herod – just as willing to manipulate the world around us?  Or how often have we steeped ourselves in scripture, scouring God’s Holy Word, longing for some sort of guidance or truth, not realizing truth is being spoken through another right to our faces?  Or how often have we been so intent on a mission, so focused on what we sense God calling us to do, we ignore the consequences of our actions, forget the power of our words?

Today’s scripture reading is certainly about the gift of the magi to us – the revelation of the incarnation, the insight of foreigners, and the abundance and homage the incarnation inspires.  But today’s scripture reading is also an invitation to consider our own response to that incarnation in the modern era, considering the ways in which we have not lifted our eyes and looked around.  Taking up Isaiah’s invitation to self-critique is important because there is also a promise in Isaiah.  You see, when we lift our eyes and look around, we acknowledge the narrowness in our lives, or we acknowledge the ways in which we are blind to our own power, or we discover the ways in which we even hide behind our faith, we are then able to see the promise in Isaiah.  Isaiah tells us to look around because glory of the LORD has risen upon us.  Isaiah says in verse five, “Nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn.”  When we talk about shining our light on this holy hill here at Hickory Neck, this is what we mean.  The gift of the magi to us is not news that is frightening.  When we are not hoarding power or hiding behind our intellect or comfort zones, the news of the magi is news for rejoicing.  And that rejoicing is light that draws nations, and kings, and neighbors, and strangers, and family members, and friends.  The gift of the magi is the invitation to let go of the things that feel under our control, and embrace the thing in no way we control, but in every way brings us grace, love, and abundance.  That is the kind of living that shines light from this hill and brings others to Christ’s light.  That is the light offered to us today in the magi.  That is the kind of good news worthy of pageants and proclamation today.  Amen.

[i] Isaiah 60.1, 4a

[ii] Rolf Jacobson, “Sermon Brainwave #701 – Day of Epiphany,” December 29, 2019, as found at http://www.workingpreacher.org/brainwave.aspx?podcast_id=1216 on January 3, 2019.

[iii] R. Alan Culpepper, “Exegetical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Yr. A, Vol. 1 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), 217.

[iv] Culpepper, 217.

[v] Stanley Hauerwas, Matthew (Grand Rapids:  Brazos Press, 2006), 38-39.

On Letting Go and Listening…

Tags

church, control, faithful, God, hear, let go, listen, Pentecost, rain, voice

Our church is currently being blessed with a lot of activity.  This week, the site for the school that will join our property has begun construction.  Footers are ready to be dug and the foundation laid.  Meanwhile, this weekend, we are hosting our second Annual High Fiber Festival.  Volunteers are being recruited, parking layouts are being designed, and signs are being hung for this great event that raises money for outreach ministries.  Both events are wonderful signs of vitality and life at Hickory Neck – and yet both events have been the victim of all sorts of things out of their control.  Permit approvals delayed construction at the school.  Delays in school construction have created challenges for parking at the Festival.  And now rain seems to be threatening progress and success for both.

I have been thinking that both projects seem to be challenging my long-held battle with control.  As I imagine many of us do, I sometimes fall under the illusion that more things are under my control than actually are.  I consider myself a pretty faithful Christian, but when issues like control arise, I realize how far I have to go.  I think that phrase, “Let go and let God,” was written for me!  Lord knows, I cannot control the rain!

That is why I love that we get the Acts lesson for Pentecost this Sunday.  Talk about a people whose life are completely out of control!  If the cross, death, resurrection, and ascension were not enough to make the disciples realize they are not in control, perhaps Pentecost would be.  I imagine the disciples were finally getting their feet on the ground and preparing themselves to take up Jesus’ mantle of spreading the Good News.  But none of them could have prepared for the dramatic event of breaking into tongues all at once.

What I love about Pentecost though is everyone hears in the din of noise.  Despite the chaos and seeming utter loss of control, those gathered can hear clearly.  I wonder if that might be an invitation for us this week – to look at the chaos and situations in our lives that seem out of control and see where we hear God’s voice.  Maybe God’s voice is speaking to us directly.  Maybe God’s voice is speaking to us through a wise friend or confidant.  Maybe God’s voice is speaking to us through strangers or the seeming “coincidences,” of life.  I’d love to hear your stories of where you have heard God this week!

Photo credit:  https://www.voices.com/blog/4-lessons-singing-in-the-rain/

Sermon – Mark 8.31.38, L2, YB, February 25, 2018

Tags

cede, Christ, control, conversation, follow, God, guns, invest, Jesus, Messiah, outcome, Peter, relationship, self-interest, Sermon, solution

Last week, as Lent Madness started up, the first matchup was between Peter and Paul.  Our family had a lively debate about which saint we preferred, including how cool it was for Paul to change his mind so radically.  But I advocated for Peter because I love how human he is – always being both the Rock on which Christ will build his Church, and the “Satan” who gets so tripped up in his own desires that he forgets what Jesus is trying to do.  Sometimes Peter’s praise and condemnation happen within verses of each other.  Today is just such a day.  In the few verses before the gospel reading from Mark we heard today, Peter boldly professes that Jesus is the Messiah when none of the other disciples are able to do so.  But then today, as soon as Jesus starts talking about suffering, rejection, and death, Peter slips again.  Like a celebrity’s manager, Peter quietly pulls Jesus aside to remind him that talking about suffering, rejection, and death is not going to help his ratings with the crowds.

I imagine many of us here have had similar conversations with God.  Like Peter, we have taken certain risks in our lives to follow Christ.  We have been mocked by non-believers, we have had to defend our God when the news feed seems to suggest God is absent, we have given up countless invitations for brunch or simply sleeping in because we agreed to read scripture in church or teach Sunday School.  We have taken jobs out a sense of call or we have loved an enemy when we did not want to love her.  We have made sacrifices for our faith.  And like any relationship where we have committed time and energy, we become invested in the outcomes.  So, when someone does not recover from an illness, or when a child is lost too soon, we get angry with God.  When another shooting happens, or when we hear reports of genocide, we voice our frustration with God.  Even when we follow politics, we become convinced that God would want a particular outcome or a particular party to win.

But here’s the trouble.  You see, when we follow Jesus, when we give up things and commit to the relationship, we become invested.  The process is natural – any relationship in which we commit our time is one in which we become invested in the results.  But that is the scary thing about following Jesus.  Not only does Jesus want us to follow him, Jesus also wants us to let go of control in the relationship.  That’s where Peter stumbles today.  You see, he is a faithful follower of Jesus.  But somewhere along the way, his faithfulness is not offered out of a total trust in whatever Jesus has to offer, but is rooted in a conviction that Jesus will behave in a particular way:  the conquering Messiah – the one who will bring redemption.  His rebuking Jesus is because what Jesus says today does not jive with his expectations of the Messiah.  And because he has a relationship with Jesus, because he is invested in his relationship with Jesus, he tries to exert his will over Jesus – to convince him to look like the Messiah he wants.

I once served at a parish that had a longtime missional relationship with a village in the Dominican Republic.  When I got involved with the program, the relationship had been floundering.  The church had worked with the village to build a community center.  Once that was done, not wanting the relationship to end, the church tried some other efforts, including microfinance and teaching different industries.  Most of those efforts failed, and the teams that would travel to the village began to feel like they were wasting their time or were doing busy work.  The more the church tried to control the relationship, the less satisfying the relationship became.

I remember on one of our last nights in the DR talking to the local priest.  I shared with him our concern – that we feared the relationship had accomplished all it could and everything we were trying to do in the village was forcing the relationship to be something the relationship could not be.  The priest understood our predicament, and gave us his blessing to do whatever we needed to do.  I went home convinced the church would gracefully end the relationship.  Instead, years later, I found out the relationship was still going strong – but not because the church had done something.  Instead, when the church was finally willing to let go, to stop trying to control the relationship, and force their own outcome, the relationship took off.  The village came to the church with a new proposal.  Instead of one more coat of paint, or one more attempted microbusiness, the village wanted to build more buildings.  But this time, the buildings would not just service the village – they would serve as a high school for the region.  Last I heard, the government finally noticed what the village was doing, and began to support the school with infrastructure and teachers.

What the church had to learn, what we need to learn, what Peter eventually learns is taking up our cross to follow Jesus means being open to death.  Perhaps that sounds obvious to those of you who have read Jesus’ words time and again.  But this week, when I think about what being open to death means I think Jesus means being open to the death of our self-interest – of our will – of our desperate need for control.  Once we allow that to die, we start to find life – life in Christ as Christ would have us live life.  We find ourselves able to keep our minds on divine things, not on human things.

This past week of dealing with the aftermath of another school shooting, I have been struggling.  Every time our country faces another mass shooting, I feel like I need to do something, to change something, to push our leaders to do something different.  Every time we face another tragedy, I join Christians in prayer and grief.  But, as one Christian theologian points out, “There is something deeply hypocritical about praying for a problem you are unwilling to resolve.”[i]  And so this week, instead of just looking to like-minded people about what to do or whom to blame, I tried something else.  I called up a friend who has very different feelings about these things and asked him to help me understand his point of view on guns in our country.  Instead of trying to convince him of my view, I let go of my own stuff, and listened.  When I let go – when I was open to the death of my self-interest or longing for control, I found that we got a lot closer to a common solution.  We began to discover ways forward.

And then, as I found myself loosening my own grip on a solution, our young people started speaking up.  Instead of the adults in this country trying to tell students how to feel or behave, the students began to teach us.  If we can deny ourselves, let go of our death grip on this issue on either side, our young people are inviting us into a new way of entering this problem – of listening differently to one another and responding in a way that transforms both sides of the aisle.

I cannot imagine a better time for us to grapple with our relationships with God and with one another.  Many of you have already shared with me the ways in which you have taken on Lenten disciplines to help you deepen your relationship with Christ.  What Peter’s experience this week invites us to consider is how we might not simply deepen our relationship, but also how me might cede our self-interest in our relationship with Christ – not simply following Christ, but letting go of how we think that journey should look; not simply taking up our cross, but being open to the fact that we do not know what that will mean or what we will encounter.  If we can engage in that kind of relationship with Christ, then we might just be able to engage in that kind of relationship with one another – no longer maddeningly holding on to what we want in our relationships, but trusting that God is working among us when we let go.  Then we are finally taking up our crosses and following Christ – together.  Amen.

[i] Attributed to Miroslav Volf by Kirsten Powers, “Why ‘thoughts and prayers’ is starting to sound so profane,” Washington Post, Nov. 6, 2017, https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/acts-of-faith/wp/2017/10/03/why-thoughts-and-prayers-is-starting-to-sound-so-profane, as referenced by Karoline Lewis, “Open Speech,” Feb. 19, 2018, http://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=5066, as found on Feb. 22, 2018.

The Blessing of Broken Plans…

Tags

broken, control, flexible, God, invitation, laugh, look, love, order, plans, routine, unpredictable, upheaval

Photo credit:  www.moleskinerie.com/2014/10/meet-the-moleskin-evernote-planner.html

I am a planner.  I like routine.  I like order and control.  Knowing that those are my natural dispositions, I probably should not have decided to become a priest or a mother.  Both of those vocations regularly involve upset plans, routines, order, and control.  Of course, one cannot do either job well without plans, routines, order, and control – but one has to also be able to extremely flexible when those things fall apart.

This past week has been a week like that.  We had a parish death about two weeks ago, which meant the funeral needed to be on my normal Sabbath.  I was totally fine with that – in fact, I usually drop everything when a death happens.  Again, that is part of being a priest.  You learn to reshuffle the week, and make it work.  And that was what I was doing until this weekend hit.  I ate something that was apparently spoiled and got sick overnight.  The next morning the malfunction light on my car came on as the car lurched its way down the highway.  And then, right as I was trying to rally to get back to my work routine, my eldest got sick in the middle of the night too.

Of course, it is not often the case that everything is shifting and changing all at once.  But when you have a week of concentrated upheaval, you begin to wonder about what God is up to.  In general, I think singular schedule changers are good reminders about self-importance.  Mass schedule changers though seem to be an invitation to do a few things.  First, laugh.  Laugh at how silly it is to think we are ever fully able to control this crazy, wild, wonderful gift of life.  Second, look.  Look at the room full of mourners reminding you of ultimate importance.  Third, love.  Love that God made a tender moment of cuddling with your three-year old because you are too tired to do anything else.

I don’t wish the chaos of my last week on anyone.  It can be disorienting, frustrating, and exhausting.  But if you do find those moments of unpredictability coming your way, perhaps you can take a moment to see where God is inviting you to laugh, look, and love.  Your plans will be there tomorrow!

On Chaos, Control, and Connection…

Tags

ambiguity, chaos, control, frustration, God, parenting, relationship, sacred, schedule

Photo credit:  https://consumeraffairs.com/news/lack-of-control-in-a-high-stress-job-could-cause-you-to-die-younger-101716.html

Last week, my husband went away for five days for a family member’s graduation.  I was thrilled he was able to go, but I always get a bit nervous when I am alone with the children for several days straight.  Part of the anxiety is that managing two children is always tough.  Mornings and evenings are chaotic – just when you think everyone is settled, one child starts screaming.  When you have tucked in the youngest so you can read to the oldest, the youngest keeps getting out of bed.  Even with my husband around, the chaos often feels unmanageable.

The first couple of days after my husband was gone, things went as I suspected.  The children were loud, crazy, and frustrating.  There were lots of timeouts, lots of deep breaths, and lots of lost tempers.  But by day three, I slowly began to loosen up.  I began to realize that there was no way I was ever going to get the children to behave exactly how I wanted, when I wanted, and where I wanted.  And so I started figuring out how to pick my battles, I gave up on my own rigidity around “the schedule,” and I figured out how to shift from toleration to acceptance.  By day four, I was no longer stressed out or anxious.  I was being firm, but having fun; I was letting go of what I couldn’t control; and I was able to appreciate this sacred alone time with the girls.

Part of what took me so long to make that shift in behavior and perspective is that I am someone who likes a sense of control and order.  I get irritated when things do not go as I planned, and I get impatient when things do not happen in a timely, organized manner.  And while some may call it stubborn, I have thought through things and selected what I believe is the best course of action; so, when kids do not want to comply, I get frustrated.  These are, obviously, not the best traits for a parent.  Parenting involves much more agility, creativity, and comfort with ambiguity.

I have begun to wonder if my revelation about my own tendencies and behaviors with my children might also be true about my tendencies and behaviors with God.  How often have I wanted God to behave in a certain way, and could not seem to get God to comply?  How often have I been impatient, frustrated, and irritated with God?  How often have I been rigid in my expectations with God?  This week, I am taking a cue from my children, remembering how much more meaningful, loving, and fun our relationship can be when I let loose of my desire for control.  I suspect the same may be true of my relationship with God too!

On control and other myths…

Tags

aging, control, creator, dependency, God, health, illusion, independence, Lent, stewards

Photo credit:  nordicapis.com/should-you-control-how-your-public-api-is-used/

Nine years ago, Oscar-nominated film, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, debuted.  The story was certainly curious.  The main character was born as an elderly person and then aged in reverse over the duration of the movie.  When he was biologically still a child, he looked like a senior citizen, and by the time he was a senior citizen, he looked like a teenager.  He came into the world unable to control his body, and as he aged/became younger, he died as an infant, unable to control his body again.  Although the process was reversed, the stages of life are not all that dissimilar to the stages we face – dependency, increased control over the self, and, if we live long enough, increased dependency as we age.

I have had many conversations with parishioners about this process.  “Getting old is for the birds!” they often tell me.  Once you have lived the majority of your life in relative independence, wrapping up your life with a return to dependency is a scary, frustrating, sometimes mentally debilitating process.  In my conversations with parishioners, the common thread seems to be about the mental, emotional, and spiritual anguish created by the lack of control that illness and aging creates.

I have realized recently though how the aging process does not create a lack of control.  The aging process simply highlights the reality of life all along – that we are not in control.  We like to create illusions of control throughout life – how we spend money, what jobs we take, what we eat and wear, and whom we love.  But the reality is that our jobs are highly informed by our vocations – that calling that God enables each of us to do through our gifts and talents.  Our money is all a gift from God – a trust we are given of which we are to be faithful stewards.  What we eat and wear is highly correlated to circumstances out of our control – class, race, and nationality.  Even who we love depends greatly on the paths we take – what geographic radius we live our lives in and who God brings into those paths.

Of course, all of that does not ignore the agency God gives us and the work we do in gratitude for our many blessings.  We are to be good stewards.  But our reminder, especially in Lent, is that we are just that:  stewards, not creators.  Our collect this Sunday was a tremendous reminder of that:  Almighty God, you know that we have no power in ourselves to help ourselves: Keep us both outwardly in our bodies and inwardly in our souls, that we may be defended from all adversities which may happen to the body, and from all evil thoughts which may assault and hurt the soul; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.  (BCP, 218)  What might you change this week, or what might you do differently in prayerful recognition of from where our control, care, and defense comes?  I look forward to hearing your reflections!

On Patience and Humanity…

Tags

control, free will, freedom, frustration, God, humanity, patience, pray, reason, sleep, stubborn

Our youngest recently graduated to a “big girl” bed, which means that she now officially refuses to stay in it for sleeping.  Since she discovered her new freedom, we have spent anywhere from twenty minutes to two hours trying to get her to sleep.  We have tried everything – a predictable routine of bath, book, rocking, and bed.  We have tried gently returning her to her room, with limited conversation.  We have tried insisting she put herself back to bed (this one almost never succeeds).  And of course, we have raised our voices many a time – not exactly the best remedy to get someone to go to sleep.  There have been tears (hers and ours), arguments, and desperation.  We keep reminding ourselves that this is a phase, but when you are in the thick of a phase, it can be hard to see straight.

I was bemoaning our situation this weekend, wondering why she doesn’t just go to sleep.  Clearly she is tired, and she feels better when she is rested.  But logic is not her strong suit right now.  In the midst of my frustration, it occurred to me that this must be a little taste of God’s relationship with us.  Surely God knows what is best for us, and would love for us to follow God’s will.  And yet, we are stubborn.  We want to do things our way, and we want to be in control.  Sometimes it occurs to us to go to God in prayer, seeking guidance.  But most of the time we are so fixed on what we want and what we think is best, we rarely look to God.  God gives us the gift of free will, and with that comes the mess of human decisions and actions.

Thinking about God’s infinite patience with my own stubbornness has made me wonder if I might take a deep breath and try to offer that same patience with my little one.  I often find that when I take that breath, imagining God’s lens of patience, I am able to see my child’s frustration, her longing for independence, and her confusion.  Seeing her humanity makes my heart much more generous.  Thinking about God’s infinite patience has also made me wonder to whom else I could extend a little more patience.  Perhaps it is the friend or family member who feels like a perpetual burden.  Perhaps it is a colleague or fellow volunteer who refuses our advice.  Or perhaps, and maybe even more frustrating lately, it is that elected official for whom we may or may not have voted.  If God can love us, honor our humanity, and abide with us, surely we might be able to share the same love, honor, and patience – even if it sometimes makes us crazy!  I promise to pray for you as you endeavor to follow God’s example – as long as you pray for me too!

Photo credit:  www.ottawacoc.org/sermons/393261-gods-patience/

On change…

Tags

change, control, crib, decision, encouraging, exciting, God, journey, power, trust

Photo credit:  www.slate.com/articles/double_x/the_kids/2013/07/clinical_lactation_jumps_on_the_dr_sears_bandwagon_to_say_sleep_training.html

Once upon a time, I had a parishioner complain to me, “I knew you were going to change things.  I just didn’t know it was going to be all at once!”  At the time, her complaint seemed unwarranted to me.  I did not feel that the changes were all at once at all.  In fact, I was careful not to change things all at once, but made changes slowly and methodically.  Though we talked through her concerns, I remember thinking flippantly that no one really likes change and perhaps that was the real source of her complaint.

This week, I have a lot more sympathy for that parishioner.  My family’s life has been upended by change.  Most of the change has been good – new jobs, new schools, and a new home.  There has been a flurry of activity, and the excitement of a move has carried us through.  Of course, I had forgotten how hard and time-consuming unpacking can be.  I also totally forgot that our young children would be having their own reactions to the move.  But we hit a breaking point Sunday night.  Our two-year-old decided it would be a great time to finally figure out how to get out of her crib.  So for about two hours we went back and forth trying to figure out ways to cajole her into going to sleep.  Of course, the developmental milestone of getting out of one’s crib was to be expected.  But that change on top of everything else made me want to cry, “I knew things were going to change.  But does it have to be all at once?!?”

The truth is, I do not think that the pace of change really matters.  I think what really matters is who gets to make the decision about the change.  When we are making changes ourselves or when we have control over the decision among a group, change does not feel so unsettling.  By having decision-making authority, we feel some modicum of control over the situation.  But when someone else is making decisions that impact us and that change what we are used to, we feel powerless, even if the change is for the better.

Having had the experience with my two-year-old, I am reminded of my need to be sensitive to others’ feelings about change and control as I begin a new pastoral relationship at Hickory Neck Episcopal Church.  Knowing how it feels to have everything changing at once, I will try to be more intentional about communicating, educating, and getting buy-in.  Change is most certainly coming – for me and for the community.  My hope is that we can love one another through the change and trust God and one another in the process.  There will be times when change feels like it is happening all at once.  But there will also be moments when we look back and say, “I guess that wasn’t so bad!  In fact, it was really good.”  Here’s to an exciting, supportive, and encouraging journey!

Sermon – 1 Samuel 8.4-20, 11.14-15, P5, YB, June 7, 2015

Tags

choice, control, decision, free will, God, good, Israelites, king, redeem, Samuel, Saul, Sermon, trust

One of the movies I enjoyed growing up was called Freaky Friday.  The movie debuted in the seventies starring a young Jodie Foster, but they remade the movie in 2003 with Jamie Lee Curtis and Lindsay Lohan.  The premise of the movie is a mother and her teenage daughter are at each other’s throats.  They are constantly fighting, arguing that the other person cannot possible understand the difficulties she is facing.  On one fateful Friday morning, the two make a flippant wish.  With great gusto and anger they both say, “I wish you could live in my shoes for just one day!”  Of course the two get their wish, and spend a crazy day trapped in the body of the other.  There are fun mishaps like the under-aged daughter trying to figure out how to drive a car and spending lots of mom’s money which is suddenly at her disposal.  There are also those stressful moments as the mom tries to take a high school test on material she has long since forgotten or trying to navigate being teased at school.  By the end of the movie, both mother and daughter are frazzled by the demands on them, overwhelmingly regretful of their wish, and just want to go back to life the way it was.  They have to work together to figure out how to reverse the wish, which basically includes coming to a point of fully appreciating the difficulties each of them faces in life and loving each other deeply.

Unfortunately, there was no Freaky Friday for the people of Israel in Samuel’s time.  Samuel had been a great prophet for the people, teaching them the ways of God.  But Samuel was aging, and his sons were proving they would not be able to fill Samuel’s shoes, as they were corrupt and abusive.  Normally, the people of Israel would have been on their own until God decided to elect another prophet for them.  But the people of Israel felt threatened.  There were great powers all around them, many of which were battling for power and control.  The Israelites looked to those nations and noticed one major difference between themselves and the other countries – kings!  And so, with great gusto they had Samuel ask God to give them a king.  Now, we have to understand how petulant the Israelites sound.  In their immaturity, they whine, “We want a king!  All the other kids have kings, and we need one too.  Then we will be guaranteed to be protected!”  Samuel is outraged on God’s behalf.  Asking for a king is tantamount to admitting that the people of God do not trust God to protect them.  They are basically asking to totally change their centuries-old relationship with God – no longer being governed by God, but being governed by a human being.  God agrees to grant their wish, but advises Samuel first to warn them about what they are asking.  Samuel does – like a parent, he rips into them about what they can expect – to give up their young men to fight in wars, to give up their young women for service to the empire, for their livestock and best fields to be taken by the king.  And when they begin to sense the injustice of the king, God will not answer their cries.  And of course, like a petulant child, the people demand their king anyway.

Who among us has not similarly negotiated with God?  We take the higher paying job even though something in our gut tells us we should not.  Years later we find ourselves unhappy and unfulfilled.  We stay in romantic relationships that are not life-giving because we are more afraid of being alone than we are of being in an unsatisfying relationship.  We spend more and more money trying to fill a void in ourselves, even though we know the void never goes away.  Like the people of Israel we turn away from God, trying to control and protect our lives, while God longs for us to instead turn toward God.

Here is what I love about this story though:  God actually had a fair amount of choices in this story.  God could have smote the people for their disloyalty.  God could have simply refused and told them to get on with life.  God could have negotiated or come up with a compromise.  Instead, God respects the people’s free-will.  God presents the disadvantages of taking on a human king; but then God lets the people choose – even choose the wrong choice.  I find God’s action encouraging because God’s action tells us a lot about our relationship with God.  God actions show us that our free-will is so important to God, that God will not rule over us like a dictator, but will let us make our own decisions – even when our decisions are not very good ones.  That kind of relationship between us teaches us that God respects us, empowers us to make decisions, and let’s us have a fair amount of control in our lives.

But even more encouraging than God respecting our free will is that fact that God can make everything good anyway.  The people of Israel did in fact make a poor choice that they paid for dearly – all that Samuel predicted came true in the person of King Solomon.  But God also made their poor decision great “in the form of a Davidic dynasty with a historical significance beyond measure.”[i]  The human choice of an Israelite king would later be redeemed through the coming of Jesus of Nazareth – descended from that same line.[ii]  If God can redeem a centuries old poor decision, surely God can redeem the many poor decisions we make in life.  And that is good news!  Amen.

[i] Roger Nam, “Commentary on 1 Samuel 8:4-11 [12-15] 16-20 [11:14-15]” as found at http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2472 on June 3, 2015.

[ii] Patrick J. Willson, “Homiletical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Supplemental Essays, Yr. B, Proper 5 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2012), 6