Bend First Presbyterian Church

I Corinthians 12.12-26

I love how Eugene Peterson in The Message translates verses 25-26, “The way God designed our bodies is a model for understanding our lives together as a church: every part dependent on every other part, the parts we mention and the parts we don’t, the parts we see and the parts we don’t (the parts we accept and the parts we don’t, the parts we like and the parts we don’t, the parts we celebrate and affirm and the parts we don’t). If one part hurts, every other part is involved in the hurt, and is involved in the healing. If one part flourishes, every other part enters into the exuberance.”

If one part hurts, every other part hurts and is involved in the healing.

If one hurts, every one hurts and is involved in the healing. What a different vision for the world than the one we live in where it is all about proving your worth, showing others how strong and successful you are, competing against each other, winning, not showing any weakness, looking after yourself. Here we have a vision of the world, not as hierarchy, where some are on top and others at the bottom, where some are acceptable and others aren’t…here we have a vision of community where everyone belongs…everyone has a place…everyone is celebrated and honored and affirmed…a vision where no one needs to defend him or herself because it is vision where we are all broken – and we are all part of each other’s healing . . . a vision where the weak and vulnerable are not discarded or judged but part of the whole.

One of my favorite novels is written by Kent Haruf called “Plainsong”.

It’s about life in a small Colorado town. It’s a simple story about ordinary people, to whom ordinary things happen, and who, on occasion, show they are capable of extending extraordinary grace to others.

The story is about a father and two sons; their mother struggling with depression;

A school teacher caring for her aging and increasingly difficult father who has dementia;

A 17 year-old girl, pregnant and alone;

And two elderly brothers, bachelors, cattle ranchers who are set in their ways and lead relatively closed lives on a ranch 17 miles south of the small town of Holt, Colorado.

Victoria, the 17 year-old, has been kicked out of the house by her mother because of her pregnancy.

Maggie Jones, the school teacher, has taken her in, but Maggie’s father with dementia is making the situation impossible.

So, one day, Maggie drives 17 miles south of Holt to the ranch of the two elderly brothers, Raymond and Harold McPheron. The brothers are on a tractor, returning to the house. They had been feeding cattle out in winter pasture.

Maggie stepped away from the barn and stood waiting for them. They moved heavily in their winter overalls.

Let me share with you how the conversation went.

“You’re going to freeze yourself standing there,” Harold said. “You better get out of the wind. Are you lost?”

“Probably,” Maggie Jones said as she laughed. “But I wanted to talk to you both.”

“Uh oh. I don’t like the sound of that,” Harold said.

Maggie said, “Don’t tell me I scared you already.”

“Why heck,” Harold said, “Just like everybody else. You probably want something.”

“I do,” she said.

The three of them enter the modest bachelor farmhouse with stacks of magazines and greasy pieces of farm machinery on all the furniture.

“I came here to ask you a favor,” Maggie said to them.

“That so?” Harold said, “What is it?”

“There’s a girl I know who needs some help,” Maggie said “She’s a good girl but she’s gotten into some trouble. I think you might be able to help her. I would ask you to consider it and let me know.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Harold asked. “She need a donation of money?”

“No, she needs a lot more than that.”

“What sort of trouble is she in?” Raymond asked.

“She’s 17. She’s four months pregnant and she doesn’t have a husband.”

“Well, yeah,” Harold said, “I reckon that could amount to trouble.”

Maggie explains that the girl’s father abandoned the family years ago. Her mother won’t have her in the house because she’s gotten pregnant. The father of her child doesn’t want anything to do with her.

“All right then,” Harold said, “You got our attention. You say you don’t want money. What do you want?”

She sipped her coffee, looked at the two old brothers, “I want something improbable,” she said, “That’s what I want. I want you to think about taking this girl in, of letting her live with you…caring for her.”

They just stared at her.

Finally, Harold said, “You’re fooling.”

“No,” Maggie said, “I’m not fooling.”

They were dumbfounded. They looked at her as if she might be dangerous.

“Oh, I know it sounds crazy,” she said, “I suppose it is crazy. But the girl needs somebody; she needs a home for these months. And you,” she smiled at them, “You old coots need somebody too…somebody or something besides an old red cow to care about and worry over. Look at you both. You’re going to die some day without ever having enough trouble in your life. Not the right kind of trouble anyway. This is your chance!”

After a long silence, Harold says, “Let’s get back to the money part. Money would be a lot easier.”

“Yes,” she laughed. “It would. But not nearly as much fun.”

Maggie asks them to think about it and leaves.

The brothers return to work, stunned into silence by such a proposal.

I love that line, “You’re going to die some day without ever having enough trouble in your life…the right kind of trouble anyway. This is your chance.”

Do you have enough trouble in your life? The right kind of trouble? Having the right kind of trouble is good, even necessary for your soul. Jesus was always getting into trouble – breaking the rules, hanging out with the wrong people, religious folks in his day thought he was dangerous – he preferred the company of the unwanted, the broken, the lost.

Paul expresses a certain kind of trouble where you can’t turn your back on those who hurt – their hurt is your hurt and somehow your own healing is wrapped up in theirs.

A great example of some one who understood the grace of inviting the right kind of trouble in your life is Jean Vanier.

In 1964, Jean Vanier, the son of a former Governor General of Canada, was teaching philosophy at The University of Toronto when he visited the Chaplain of an institution for cognitively and physically challenged people.

That visit was a turning point in Jean Vanier’s life and it became clear to him that God was calling him to something new. God was inviting the right kind of trouble in his life.

Soon after, he invited two cognitively and physically challenged men from this institution to come and live with him. In time, others joined them, until the community grew to over 400 people. He called the community L’Arche, which is French for The Ark and now there are over 140 L’Arche communities across the world..

Vanier’s goal was simple : create a community where people with and without disability could belong, celebrate and affirm one another’s value and gifts and make the world a less harsh and friendlier place.

Vanier said we tend to ask the wrong theological question. When a person is born with a disability or a person is suffering from cancer or a person is suffering in some way, we often ask “Why?” “Why would God allow such things?” to which there is never a satisfactory answer. A better theological question to ask is, “How can we live together as a community with such grace that every person, in spite of their frailties and brokenness, abilities and disabilities, has a place, belongs, is valued and can experience a fullness of life?” For Vanier to love is to show someone their value and worth.

Vanier said, “In the midst of a harsh, violent, and judgmental world, God invites us to create new places of belonging, places of grace and kindness, places where no one needs to defend himself or herself, places where each is loved and accepted, where the beauty of each person is sought and affirmed.”

Jean Vanier welcomed these two men with significant physical and cognitive challenges to live with him. He wrote, “We began to live together. I did the cooking, so we didn’t eat very well. We did everything together. We worked in the garden together. We fought together. We prayed together. We forgave each other.

I began this journey by thinking that I could do good for them, but then as the days and then the months moved on I began to discover, little by little, what they were doing for me – transforming me, changing me, teaching me. I was the one being healed…being made more whole. I began to realize love isn’t something you do for some one. It is entering into a covenant where you accept me as I am and I accept you as you are, where we promise to accept each other with all that is fragile, all that is broken, all that is beautiful, and we participate together in each other’s healing.

Where did you find Christ? He was always present with the poor, the broken, the lost, the hurting, the unwanted – Vanier said, “I realized Christ is hidden in our mutual weakness and vulnerability.”

Barbara Brown Taylor says the hardest spiritual work in the world is to welcome and see the presence of God in each person – to encounter another human being not as some one you can use, change, convert, fix, help, save, enroll, convince, or control, but simply as some one, just like you, whose heart is the same as yours crying out for love and a sense of belonging, and who can spring you from the prison of yourself, if you will allow it.

Thomas Merton said, “Our job is to love others without stopping to inquire whether or not they are worthy. That is not our business and, in fact, it is nobody’s business. What we are asked to do is to love, and this love itself will render both ourselves and our neighbors worthy.”

Do you remember the two brothers? When the sun had gone down in the late afternoon, the brothers Raymond and Harold did talk.

“All right,” Harold said, “I know what I think. What do you think we should do about her?”

“We take her in,” Raymond said, “After all, maybe she wouldn’t be as much trouble.”

“I’m not talking about that yet,” Harold said. He looked out into the gathering darkness.

“I’m talking about, why heck, look at us. Old men alone. A couple of old bachelors out here in the country 17 miles from the closest town which don’t amount to much, even when you get there. Think of us. Set in all our ways. How are you going to change now at this age of life?”

“I don’t know,” Raymond said, “But I’m going to. That’s what I know.”

“And what do you mean?” asked Harold, “How come she wouldn’t be no trouble?”

“I never said she wouldn’t be no trouble. I said maybe she wouldn’t be as much trouble.”

“You ever had a girl living with you before?” Harold asked.

“You know I ain’t,” Raymond said.

“Well, I ain’t either. But let me tell you. A girl is different. They want things. They need things on a regular schedule. Why, girls, they got ideas in their heads you and me can’t even imagine. And, darn it, there’s the baby, too. What do you know about babies?”

“Nothing. I don’t even know the first thing about ‘em,” Raymond said.

“Well, then, “ said Harold.

“But, I don’t have to know about any babies, yet,” Raymond said, “Maybe I’ll have time to learn Now you going in on this with me or not? Cuz I’m gonna do it.”

Harold turned toward him. The light was gone in the sky and he couldn’t make out the features of his brother’s face. There was only this dark familiar figure against the faded horizon.

“All right, “he said, “ I will. I’ll agree. I shouldn’t, but I will. But I’m going to tell you this one thing first.”

‘What is it?”

‘You’re getting darn stubborn and hard to live with. That’s all I’ll say. Raymond, you’re my brother. But you’re getting flat ornery and difficult to abide. And I’ll say one thing more.”

“What Harold?”

“This ain’t going to be no Sunday School picnic.”

“No it ain’t, “ Raymond said, “But I don’t recall you ever attending Sunday School either.”

One hurts…every one hurts, and every one is part of the healing.

“You don’t ever want to die some day without ever having enough trouble in your life, the right kind of trouble…so open your heart, open your heart to God’s Grace, this is your chance!

Matthew 9:35-38; James 2:14-17

In the movie Gandhi, which is about the life of Gandhi and his struggle for justice through nonviolence, there is a powerful scene about empathy and solidarity. The time was shortly after India gained independence from Great Britain in 1947.

 

India is torn in civil strife; Muslims and Hindus are killing each other; and Gandhi is fasting to protest the violence.

Gandhi is near death from starvation when a crazed man, a Hindu, arrives with food that he insists Gandhi must eat. He demands, “Here! Eat! Eat! I’m going to hell – but not with your death on my soul!”

Gandhi replies, “Only God decides who goes to hell.”

“I killed a child!” the man confesses.

Gandhi asks, “Why?”

“Because they killed our son…my boy! The Muslims killed my son!”

Gandhi sees the man’s unbearable grief and remorse. He feels his pain. His heart breaks open for this man. Gandhi gently tells him, “ I know a way out of hell. Find a child, a child whose mother and father have been killed – a little boy – and raise him up as your own. Only be sure that he is a Muslim.”

Imagine the power of what Gandhi was asking of the man. He was asking him to raise the child in the ways of his enemy and basically to love him as his own child.

That is something that would make most of us at the least uncomfortable if not horrified.

The wisdom and salvation that Gandhi was offering the man was that of the power of empathy and of entering into the experience of some one else’s life, pain and struggle.

The old saying is true that you really don’t know someone until you’ve walked a mile in someone else’s shoes.

Sympathy is to feel sorry “for” some one. You can feel sympathy and still be removed from that person.

Empathy is to feel “with” some one…to feel their pain, to enter into their struggle.

Jesus told us not simply to love your neighbor but to love your neighbor as yourself…don’t simply feel sorry for them…be willing to feel with them.

Our scripture reading today said when Jesus SAW the crowds; he had compassion for them because they were harassed and helpless.

To be “harassed” in the original Greek means literally to be “skinned” of your own humanity. To be “helpless” is literally to be “cast down” as a result of being wounded by life.

At first it says, Jesus SEES the crowd. So often the harassed and helpless are invisible to society. They are the ones we don’t want to see because they make us uncomfortable. Or, if we do see, we often see with a particular lens that judges. We don’t see their common humanity. We don’t see they are created in the image of God. We don’t see Christ in them.

Naomi Tutu said to really SEE another is the first act of love.

The story says Jesus saw the harassed and helpless. He didn’t just look over the crowd. He SAW them. And, it says, “He had compassion for them.”

This isn’t a soft, sweet and sentimental term.

The word compassion in the Greek means that one is moved way down in the pit of the stomach. It is to experience noticeable, almost violent churning in the core of one’s being. It is to feel the pain of another…to suffer WITH.

To really feel compassion is to be in such inner turmoil at the sight of such suffering, that you are compelled to do something. The compassionate person cannot just sit by and say, “that’s too bad” or “there’s nothing I can do.”

The compassionate person must do something because they realize in the human race no one really wins until we all do. Your pain is my pain.

This weekend faith communities across Bend are focusing on the pain of poverty.

20,000 people across the world will die today because they are too poor to live. At least a third will be children.

850 million people across the world live in extreme poverty which means they are trying to survive on less than $1 a day.

Although the United States is home to 406 billionaires and countless millionaires, a baby is born into poverty in this nation every 32 seconds joining the 1 in 5 children in this country living in poverty. 70% of the poor children in this country live in families where at least one family member works – yet they are still poor.

During the course of this worship service, over 100 children will be born into poverty in America…over 16 million children in America are living in homes where at some time last year their family couldn’t feed every one.

Nearly 30,000 people live in poverty in Central Oregon and, unfortunately, the situation isn’t getting better. The current economic situation, loss of jobs and government budget cuts are making the situation worse.

We can hear statistics and gloss over . . . be a step removed from the reality of the human stories that are behind those statistics. We can hear statistics and not allow them to penetrate the heart… to feel the pain, hopelessness and struggle that live behind those statistics. We forget there is a face that goes with every number in a statistic.

Fred Craddock, a famous preacher, was the keynote speaker for a gathering on world hunger at Clemson University. Before the speech, a young woman was going to begin the program with a devotional. She was an unassuming young woman and as she approached the microphone, Craddock could see that she had a yellow legal pad that had A LOT of writing on it.

“Uh, oh” Craddock thought, “it’s going to be a long night.”

She spoke softly and in what he thought was a foreign language, and then another language, and then another, and on and on it went. One sentence she spoke in 60 languages of the world – one sentence that said more perhaps than any sentence in the world.

When she got to German and Spanish and then French, Craddock began to recognize it. Finally, she spoke that one sentence in English. She said, “Mommy, I’m hungry.” And then she sat down.

It’s easy to say 1 in 5 children in this country will go to bed hungry tonight. Do we SEE these children? Do we see the tear and feel the ache as the child says, ‘Mommy, I’m hungry.” Do we feel the pain, desperation and helplessness of a mother who can’t afford to feed her own child.

Jesus SAW the harassed and helpless and his heart broke open.

Let’s try to imagine for a moment the mother of the child who says, “Mommy, I’m hungry.”

Imagine you are a single mother of two children living in Bend. You feel fortnate to have a full-time job cleaning at a local resort. You earn minimum wage of $8.50 an hour. That means you make about $17, 000 a year which is below the poverty line.

You are part of a growing group of people known as the working poor.

You and your two kids share a small apartment. It’s not a great neighborhood. Police have visited the people  across the hall on several occasions for domestic disputes. You know the people next door are dealing drugs out of their apartment. But you can’t afford to live anywhere else.

Rent and food take most of your income.

Every month, you pay for after school care until your money runs out. Then your kids stay at home after school alone and unsupervised.

And then there is your 12 year-old car. It sits idle because you can’t afford to get it repaired. And even if you could get the car running, gas prices make driving it a luxury you can’t afford.

You can’t afford health insurance so you pray no one gets sick. You struggle with depression and try your best to not let it overwhelm you but affording a counselor is something you can’t even consider.

Every month you fall farther and farther behind. Your landlord threatens to evict you for being late with the rent. Because you are gone so much, your kids grow distant. You worry about the drugs and the neighborhood, but what can you do? You want to be there when they get home from school, to help them with their homework, and to protect them from bad influences. But you can’t. You have to work. In fact, you are looking for a second job – just to make ends meet.

You feel like a failure. You are ashamed your kids have to wear the same clothes every day. It breaks your heart to hear your child cry as you put her to bed, “Mommy, I’m hungry.”

Versions of this story are lived out every day in our own back yard. Do we have eyes to see?

Archbishop Oscar Romero once said, “One thing is clear in the Bible. God has compassion for and is on the side of the poor and asks us to be on their side as well.”

When Jesus looked out at the crowd, he SAW them. He saw how harassed and helpless they were. He felt their pain. His heart broke open. Compassion poured forth. Christ hears the cries of his people because it is Christ who cries within the hearts of his people. God works miracles with those who allow their hearts to break open and Christ’s love pour forth.

Parker Palmer recently wrote a book that emerged out of his frustration with our political system which is frought with corruption and greed and which he believes makes decisions without really seeing people and the stories they are living.

After finding himself in a place of despair about the state of our democracy, he turned to the human heart as a source of healing and redemption for our society.

The book is called Healing the Heart of Democracy.

Palmer talks about habits of the heart that he believes can turn our country around. He wrote, “We the people called American democracy into being, we can call it back to its highest form only as we heal our own distrust, divisions and fear and become a true caring community. It’s a big task. But it’s about doing the simple things in our every day lives. Remember, most big problems are solved with a million small actions.

Palmer gives some examples of habits of the heart we could all do.

1. 1.    Go downtown to Wall Street or Bond Street or Drake Park. Turn off your cell phone. Don’t let the crowd become a blur. Instead, do some focussed “people watching”. Notice the faces, the body language and behavior of the people passing by. SEE people. Really SEE them. Notice any judgments that arise and try to set them aside. Try to see those who are normally invisible. Try to imagine their life story…what it would be like to walk in their shoes for a day, a week, a month. Practice empathy. Enjoy diversity. See our common humanity. Remember, we are all in this together.
2. 2.    If you frequent a coffee shop or café, try starting a simple conversation with a stranger that might move from a comment on the weather to a question about something in the local or national news. But, instead of saying “I agree” or “I disagree” with what the person tells you, say, “That’s interesting, “ and ask questions that draw him or her out. Play the role of “roving reporter” whose purpose is not to tell others what you think but to find out how they see and experience the world. Most of us, no matter who you are, wants a sense that some one sees and hears us. Be that some one. What if you went a whole day assuming every one you see or meet has a deep need to be seen and heard…to have their worth and value affirmed. Imagine God has placed you in that place at that time to be the one who will see, listen, hear, feel.
3. 3.    If you hear something hateful or judgmental being said about people of certain backgrounds or beliefs, tell the speaker that you find what he or she said personally hurtful. If the speaker asks why, respond that you value every one’s humanity and find it painful to live in a world where we tear each other down rather than build each other up. Let’s have a world where we can all say to each other, “Welcome to the human race…a race where no one really wins until we all do.”

Habits of the heart.

Robert Theobold, a futurist, said the 20^th century was a race that was all about getting ahead…space exploration, personal economic gain, medical and scientific advancement. But, at what cost? Are we really ahead? And, do we really SEE all of those we have left behind? The 21^st century must be the century of healing…and that healing begins with each and every heart. You are the medicine the world needs.

God works miracles with those who allow their hearts to be broken open and Christ’s love to pour forth.

May God gives us hearts willing to SEE, to really SEE the harassed and helpless, hearts filled with compassion, hearts with the wisdom to know no one really wins until we all do.

May we work towards a world where no child goes to bed with the words, “Mommy, I’m hungry.”

May it be so!

 Psalm 133; Matthew 5:43-47

 Under a cultural program a Texas family hosted a Rabbi from Russia. It was Christmas time.

 The family took him to a local Chinese restaurant. There was a small statue of Buddha near the cash register as they waited to be seated.

 At the end of the meal, the waiter brought the check and presented each of them with a small brass tree ornament.

 They all laughed when some one pointed out that the ornaments were stamped, “Made in India,” but the Rabbi began quietly crying.

The family assumed he was offended by the focus on Christmas but he smiled and said to them, “No. I was shedding tears of joy to be in a wonderful country in which a Buddhist gives a Jew a Christmas gift made by a Hindu. There is something about this,” he said, “that I am sure makes God smile.”

The Psalmist, “How good and pleasant it is when brothers and sisters live together in unity.”

Mother Teresa said, “All the problems of the world result from the fact that we have forgotten that we belong to each other and we all exist within the heart of God…even the one you despise the most.”

Jesus said, “You have heard that it was said You Shall Love Your Neighbor And Hate Your Enemy,” but I say to you, “LOVE YOUR ENEMIES AND PRAY FOR THOSE WHO PERSECUTE YOU.”  Those were shocking words then as they are now.

Nobody challenged him and asked, “Where exactly does it say that about hating your enemies?” You won’t find that anywhere in the Hebrew scripture. Every one knew it was written somewhere else…written deep in their hearts and spoken through their lives.

Hating your enemies seems to come so naturally – like it is programmed there from the start.

Fear is so deeply imbedded in our hearts. It’s like fear has a permanent home.

I arrogantly consider myself somewhat enlightened but if I am 100% honest with you, I’m embarrassed to  admit that if I’m sitting on a plane next to a middle eastern man, there’s an initial, almost pre-programmed judgment, fear, suspicion. It’s not rational. Fear takes over. When I become aware of that feeling I become ashamed of myself but it is sometimes there.

I also need to confess that if I perceive some one slighting me in some way, my first thought is not to love them. I will leave it up to your imagination as to what my first thought might be.

I remember one Palm Sunday I thought I had the best children’s sermon in the world. I didn’t count on one thing. All of the children were given palm leaves at the beginning of the service.

One of the children thought it would be fun to poke another child with his palm leaf. You guessed it. Before I knew it, all out war broke out with ALL of the children participating. You poke me, I’m poking you back. You hit me, I’ll hit you harder. You call me a name, I will call you a worse name. So, three quarters of the children were pelting each other and any one else who got in the way with palm leaves and a quarter of the children were hiding under the Communion Table.

Right there on full display was this basic programming for the way we relate to one another.

So LOVING YOUR ENEMIES seems to be about somehow overriding our default position, and allowing the Spirit to do something new. Jesus is saying, “Here’s a new way of being in the world.”

Anne Lamott says, “Why love your enemies? Why didn’t Jesus command us to obsess about everything? I know how to do that. Why didn’t Jesus command us to stomp away and brood and hold on to grudges? I’m good at that. Why didn’t Jesus command us to judge people who annoy us, and then eat a big bag of Hershey kisses in bed? That comes pretty easy to me.”

Why didn’t Jesus give us easier, more self-satisfying commands? Because Jesus is Jesus and Jesus shows us the heart of God in which there is no retaliation, no revenge, no hatred, no condemnation…only this foundation of unconditional love, forgiveness and Grace for ALL God’s beloved children. And it is only the power of that love that has the power to override our fear and judgment.

It’s no accident that right after Jesus commands us to love our enemies, he tells us to pray for them. The purpose of these prayers is not to change our enemies. It is to change us. To pray is to invite Christ’s love to have it’s way with us. It is to untangle the knots of fear and hatred and judgment that constrict our hearts. Walter Brueggeman says, “You can’t pray for another without recognizing our common humanity – without recognizing the person you are praying for, regardless of how much you might despise them, they too are a child of God.”

As much as I would like to think my sermons can change your life…that my messages can override and change those deep operating systems of fear, I know better. I remember one Sunday in another church on a Sunday I wasn’t preaching, I was greeting people at the door as they left, at least four people said to me, “Nice sermon, Steven.” My measure of an effective sermon is one that survives past lunch on Sunday.

So, what does change our operating system?  What does override our fear and judgment?

When and how have you experienced transformation? Have you? When you come to church do you expect it to change you in some way or is it like going to the movies? As you journey in your faith, is y our intention to be shaped more and more into the image of Christ – to have your heart become more and more like the heart of Christ? Or, would you prefer like Anne Lamott that Jesus would give us easier commands that require no change in us?

One thing we do claim here in the church is that transformation begins as a gift from God…and in order to receive this gift, we have to ask for it. Again, I think that’s why Jesus followed his command to love our enemies by asking us to pray for them.

Prayer doesn’t change our enemies. It changes is. Prayer issurrender. It is impossible to hold someone you despise or fear in the light of Christ’s love on a daily basis without it changing you!

I am a big fan of a Lutheran Pastor by the name of Rev. Nadia Bolz-Weber, who serves a church in downtown Denver called The House For All Saints And Sinners. You would see Nadia in her traditional Lutheran garb – black clergy-shirt with white collar but what might surprise you are the dozens and dozens of tattoos on her arms and back, most depicting her faith in some way. She’s an honest, bold, penetrating writer and thinker. I admire her freedom to be herself and her passion as a follower of Jesus. This is a story she told:

“You just never know when God might make your enemy your friend. A man named Chris Rosebrough hosts a conservative Christian talk radio show.

A couple months ago, he spent two of his shows talking about me and how I am disobeying God by being a female pastor and how I’m a heretic because I welcome gay folks in my church, and, well, you get the idea. Two whole radio shows devoted to how awful I am.

A couple months after this, he showed up at a conference I was speaking at in the Twin Cities, and when I found out, I felt all bound up inside and went into a little mini rage. Clearly, he was my enemy.

The next day, a middle-aged guy with a beer gut and a bad goatee walked up to me after I had spoken, extended his hand, and said, “Hi! I’m Chris…”

I swallowed hard, extended my hand and said a quick, “help me” prayer, and we proceeded to have a conversation about our need for God’s grace and forgiveness. A conversation in which he cried twice.

At the end I said, “Chris, I have two things to say to you. 1. You are a beautiful child of God and 2. I think you and I were desperate enough to hear the gospel today that we could even hear it from each other.”

Now Chris calls me about every couple months and we talk for an hour. Since then, even though we don’t believe the same things, he hasn’t written about me or talked about me on his radio show, and he’s gotten in a lot of trouble from his followers for calling me his friend. In our world programmed by so much fear and judgment, this loving your enemy stuff is costly.

Now, did this happen because I managed to make my heart feel really nice, warm, fuzzy feelings toward him?

Clearly not. I couldn’t stand the guy.

This was a loving-my-enemy that could only flow from the heart of a forgiving God.

And that is what freedom feels like.”

Make no mistake – she’s not suggesting that you simply sit back and let God do all of this for you.

You have to choose…to choose to follow this difficult path, to pray, to make space, to sit with difficult pain of self-discovery.

We can’t make it happen. But you can ask for it. You can invite Christ’s love to untangle those knots of fear and judgment and even that constrict our hearts.

Anne Lamott describes how as a child she loved to work to get the tangles out of necklace chains. Great patience is required, working it with a needle, working the knot until it loosens and lets go.

Her Pastor gave a sermon about loving one’s enemies, especially those you are most judgmental towards for even those we despise are also created in God’s image, are also God’s beloved. Loving one’s enemy, her pastor said, was non-negotiable.

Anne thought about the people she most despises in the world, the people she is most critical of, the people she judges, the people she doesn’t understand, the people whose politics she can’t stand, the people make her crazy, and she realized God loves them too, and somehow she needs to as well. Not agree with them, love them.

She wrote, “ I felt a shift inside…the conviction that love was having its way with me, softening me, changing my cold stone heart. My enemies weren’t changing. I was changing.

It felt almost like a release from the constant knots in my stomach.

I had poked a needle into another knot, tugged, let go, and finally felt some give, and give means there is more light between the links.”

She says, “You never know exactly where the knot is going to release, but, usually, if you keep working with it, it will.”

The spiritual work we all must do is the work of untangling the knots within us…letting love, the love of Christ have its way with our hearts.

Henri Nouwen puts it this way, “In the heart of God, we can see others who live on this earth with us, however different or difficult they may be, are also God’s beloved…and, in the heart of God, we can see our own belovedness. God says, give me your heart and I will give you both your neighbor and your self. When you discover and claim your own blessedness, the darkness no longer distracts, but you have a deep desire to bless others.”

May it be so

Happy New Year!

This is the time of year to make those New Year Resolutions.

I want to suggest something a little different and very simple for your New Year Resolution to carry into 2012

*CHOOSE A WORD OR PHRASE THAT BECOMES YOUR FOCUS FOR 2012

The words we live by create the worlds we live in. change the words we live by and our world can change!

What words do you live by? What words to you carry in your heart, either consciously or subconsciously?

Anger? Fear? Resentment? Busyness? Rush? Stress? “Not Enough?” Worry?

The words we live by create the worlds we live in.

Change the words we live by and our world can change.

Believe it or not, the word I choose for 2012 and the word I will focus on and carry with me is SMILE.

I have a tendency to take life a little too seriously and be a little too grumpy. My intention for 2012 is to smile (especially when I don’t feel like it).

Thich Nhat Hanh wrote,

“Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy. Your smile you can make life more beautiful.”

Don’t you think the world could use a few more people willing to offer the gift of a smile to another?

What is that one word that if it became the focus for 2012 could have a profound effect?

Patience? Acceptance? Listen? “Be present?” Simple? Breathe? Compassion? Forgiveness?

Think of one word or phrase that if it became your focus and your intention might change the whole spirit with which you go about your day.

Write that one word down in as many places as you can – bathroom mirror, car, on your computer.

Whenever you see that one word – Stop, take a breath, repeat the word silently to yourself, and imagine that word sinking deep and becoming part of you.

My word is SMILE.

Whenever I see the word smile that I have strategically placed so that I will see it often, I stop, take a breath and visualize my heart smiling.

Very simple . . . but makes a profound shift in my energy.

The words you live by create the worlds you live in.

Change the words you live by and you change your world.

There’s a true story of a writer in Boston who wrote a short story of only 500 words. He somehow convinced 500 people to have one of the 500 words of his story tattooed on their body. The writer then invited all 500 to gather with the word that was tattooed on them at the same time and the same place so the story could be told. Each person carried a word that told part of the story.

What word or words have you been carrying in your heart? For 2012, is there a new word you wish to carry into this new year?

I had a life-changing experience when my sons were very little. My wife was away for a couple of days for work. It was a period in my life when life just seemed really hard. And, I was having one of “those” days and I was changing my son’s diaper who was a baby at the time. And, it was one of “those” diaper changes. I was so tired and frustrated wondering if this phase will ever end. I remember just going through the motions very detached from my son . . . not present at all.

That very afternoon I was visiting a friend in the hospital who also recently had a baby. She was battling breast cancer that eventually took her life. I didn’t tell her about my morning. The first words out of her mouth were, “Steven, all I want to do is go home and be able to change my baby’s diaper.” Wow! That shot right into my heart.

She helped me realize that every moment of every hour of every day is a sheer gift, no matter what the circumstances.

Think of two words:

          Burden or Gift.

The word you choose and carry with you will determine the spirit you carry with you.

What if the word you choose for 2012 is: GIFT?

You write GIFT down where you can see it in many different places. Every time you see the word, you take a breath and realize that even that breath is a gift not to be wasted or taken for granted.

The words you live by create the worlds you live in. Change the words you live by and you can change your world.

Choose your word carefully in 2012 and as you carry it may it carry you into the best year ever.

Luke 1:26-38; John 1.14

Prayer – As we get closer and closer to Bethlehem, startle us with the love that was present in the birth of a child and may that love live in every cell of our being that we might be the vibration of that love in the world.

This is how Eugene Peterson describes the mystery of the birth of Jesus in John 1:14, “The Word became flesh and blood and moved into the neighbohood…generous inside and out.”

The Word became flesh.

The words we live by create the worlds we live in.

Change the words we live by and our world can change.

What words do you live by?

There’s a true story of a writer who wrote a short story…a love story of only 500 words. He somehow convinced 500 people to have one of the 500 words tattooed on their body. The writer then invited all 500 to gather with the word that was enfleshed on them so that the story could be told. The fullness of this love story could only be told if each person showed up with the word they were willing to carry.

The Word became flesh and blood and moved into the neighborhood to show us how we, in our flesh and blood, might embody the Word and that word is LOVE.

You, in your embodied, fragile, imperfect, mercy and glory are God’s healing Word of gracious love for a hurt and broken world.

The words we live by create the world we live in.

Change the words we live by and the world can change.

There’s a couple who gave me permission to tell their story. He’s a successful businessman, well-acknowledged millionaire in his community.

His wife confided to me, “I’m filing for divorce.”

On the outside, their trappings were wonderful. They had a beautiful home. Beautiful children. They were well-respected in the community and active in their church.

Something wasn’t right. Something was missing.

She said, “He’s given me everything but himself and that’s the only thing I really care about.”

Later, I sat down with him and asked if he understood the seriousness of the situation. He seemed unfeeling at first as if it didn’t matter. I sensed he was covering up. Hiding. Protecting himself. He’s been hurt.

Much later, he told me about an incident on the playground when he was 10. He had fallen in love with this beautiful, golden-haired girl. His love was hidden. He never dared to verbalize.

She was popular, outgoing and friendly. He wasn’t any of those things.

He got to thinking that the only reason she didn’t like him is she didn’t know he liked her. 10 year-old boy logic. So, he plotted and planned and memorized a few words he heard somewhere.

The next day on the playground he went running up to her oblivious that she was surrounded by her friends…oblivious he was entering a no man’s land for boys his age.

He went right up to her and just blurted out – something – but it wasn’t what he practiced. It was how he really felt. It wasn’t smooth. It was awkward. It sounded like this: “I love you Molly!”

All of a sudden, it was as if all of his clothes had been stripped away. Every child on the playground was staring at him naked.

Molly laughed. She said, ‘What?!”

Molly’s friends all gathered around her like some entourage for a queen standing behind her when Molly laughed again in his face and said, “Well, I hate you.”

Running off the playground into the classroom tears streaming down his face…the humiliation and the hurt. He wished he could just disappear…that he would cease to exist.

He grabbed his jacket and ran home…all the way…never telling his parents what had happened…embarrassed…hurt…ashamed.

He made a commitment inside himself that day, 10 years old, “I will never trust my heart to another person again.”

Words we live by create the words we live in. there are some words we carry with us that we may have even forgotten are there.

Now, he’s in his 50’s. He’s made money. He has power. Prestige. He’s got all the trappings of success but missing what he desires the most.

I asked, “What are you going to do?”

“What can I do? Get a divorce, I guess.”

I said, “You were 10 years old. Maybe you did back then the very best you could do. Maybe as a child you didn’t know any better. You’re not a child any longer. You can make different choices. You can change. You can carry a different word in your heart. You need to tell your wife. You need to tell her your story.”

He sobbed and we prayed together…prayed for something new to be born…prayed for light to break in and a different word…a word of grace to be embodied…prayed for love to find a way.

Some weeks went by. His wife did talk to an attorney. He finally got the courage to say, “Let’s talk.”

They walked across the street to a park across from their home and sat down on a bench. She didn’t know what he could possibly have to say but if he was going to talk, she was going to be there. She wanted to listen.

He mustered up the courage to open up and tell her what had happened…to ask for forgiveness.

They are not sure of the road ahead…whether or not they can overcome the years of resentment and hurt. What they are sure of is that something new is being born between them.

The words we live by create the worlds we live in.

Change the words we live by and our world just might change.

“The Word became flesh and blood and moved into the neighborhood” so that we might embody in our fragile, imperfect selves God’s healing Word of love.

God desires for a new story to be told in this harsh and hostile world…a love story, of sorts. What if your flesh and blood life is part of that story being told?

We’ve heard the the Christmas story so many times we forget how  wild and crazy…unpredictable and unexpected it really is.

Look at today’s scripture. Mary, a country girl, unremarkable, unrefined, most scholars guess to be about 14.

Tradition tells us she was drawing water for her family…a typical job for a peasant girl…an ordinary moment in an ordinary day.

And God’s angel pops in and says, “Hi!”

That would get your attention. And if that wasn’t startling enough to be greeted by an angel, then comes the real shocker “You, Mary, are going to give birth to the Messiah!”

Woa! Hold your horses! That wasn’t on today’s agenda!

God was about to change the course of human history and God chose this young, 14 year-old girl to carry this Word of hope.

Is it really such a stretch then to consider that you might mean that much to God…that God desires to continue to tell this wild and crazy love story through our fragile, ordinary, broken lives?

Mary says to the angel, “I am the Lord’s servant. Let it be.”

Hold on a second. Am I to believe she didn’t pause or hesitate before she said that…am I to believe the fact she would be single, pregnant, disbelieved, scandalized, rejected, humiliated and outcast never crossed her mind?

I wonder where Mary found the strength to say YES to God.

What if Mary had said NO? What if Mary said, “Thanks but no thanks.”? Could she have declined God’s invitation to be the means through which God would tell this amazing, wild and crazy love story?

I have to assume so. Who knows, maybe 99 others did say NO before Mary.

But this young, unlikely girl took a deep breath and said, “Let it be…I will be a servant of Your love and carry Your Word full of grace and truth.” And, in one of the most unlikeliest of places and through the most unlikely person – LOVE WAS BORN.

I think of Mary’s extraordinary, definitive YES when she could have said NO. I think of this world that shouts NO at every corner. I think of how many people carry NO deeply embedded in their hearts because of the harshness of this world.

Mary’s YES gave birth to a new world of hope and possibility.

The words you lie by create the world you live in. Change the word and you just might change the world.

It’s a wild and crazy, unpredictable and unexpected love story.

The Word became flesh and blood and moved into the neighborhood so that in our fragile, flesh and blood lives we might carry God’s Word of grace into this harsh and hostile world.

My favorite theologian, Garrison Keillor, wrote about a Nebraska angel in New York City. Keillor was in a deli on 10^th Avenue, where an elegant young woman was  managing a herd of 8 teenage boys, ordering them breakfast from the lady behind the counter.

The boys spoke Spanish, which the young woman translated for the counter lady.

Keillor is standing, observing, waiting his turn, a little impatiently.

The boys – it dawns on him – are all developmentally disabled in some way. The young woman is their hired shepherd. A teacher’s aide – probably at minimum wage.

She is lovely. Green-eyed, dark-haired; her wool scarf says, “Nebraska”; her English sounds Midwestern.

The boys want muffins for breakfast, except one boy, who earnestly desires a sesame bagel, toasted, with cream cheese, but the deli is out of sesami, and this is a cruel disappointment to him. He really was counting on it. When you are 14 and so desparately vulnerable in the big city, you do pin your hopes on certain small pleasures.

His face crumples and he is about to melt, and the elegant, green-eyed woman puts her head down next to his, where he sits slumped on the deli stool. Her pale cheek against his cheek, she murmurs to him, and a string of enormous tears runs from his face onto her face, and she wipes it away and says something in Spanish which makes him laugh.”

Keillor writes, “A girl from the praire, using her Spanish to care for fragile boys in a callous world, where the poor and powerless get short shrift…She’s my Christmas angel.” (Chicago Tribune, 22 Dec. 2009)

Christ is born whenever love takes the shape of flesh and blood in the ordinary lives of ordinary people.

The child of Bethlehem is born whenever unexpected grace and kindness and goodness breaks into this harsh and hostile world.

I want to give you an opportunity to be a Christmas angel…to embody a word of Grace where it might be needed.

A generous donor has made it possible for each of you to take a $10 token good for a meal at Common table as our Christmas gift to you. Our hope is that you might bring a YES for some one for whom the world has repeatedly shouted NO.

As you give this $10 token away , I encourage to let the grace not only be in the token but in your flesh and blood. See the person you are giving it to. Get to know their name if you don’t know it. Better yet, give them the gift of your presence and offer to share a meal with them.

Share the story with us as we continue to tell God’s wild and crazy love story through our willingness to say YES.

As we prepare to kneel at the manger this coming week, I am reminded of these beautiful words of Frederick Buechner:

“Come and behold him, born the king of angels.

Speak to him or be silent before him.

In whatever way seems right to you and at whatever time, come to him with your empty hands.

The great promise is that to come to him who was born in Bethlehem is to find coming to birth within ourselves something stronger and braver, gladder and kinder and holier than we ever knew before or than ever we could have known without Him.”

May it be so!

 

Isaiah 40:1-5; Mark 1:1-3

OK, I have to confess, I’m a bit of a scrooge when it comes to Christmas lights and decorations, much to my wonderful wife Laurie’s dismay because she absolutely loves this time of year.

When it comes to hanging Christmas lights, I thank God for my 6’3” son who can stand on the porch rail and easily reach the gutters to hang the lights. That hasn’t always been the case. Only a couple of years ago, my sons and I were using a ladder to put icicle lights on the front of the house. Of course, we checked the lights before we put them up and they all worked but, as is always the case, once we put them up on the house one section of lights didn’t work. And, of course, it was the section right in the middle that every one sees as you walk up the steps.

I was frustrated and grumbling under my breath wondering why we have to put up those darn lights anyway. My son in a not-so-subtle-way said, “Dad, lighten up!”

“Lighten up.” His smile and that phrase startled me awake. A frustrating moment became a holy moment. I realized how lucky I was to be sharing this job with my sons. “Lighten up.”…I remembered why we put up lights in the first place. The origin of Christmas lights is to celebrate the coming of light into the world that no amount of darkness can overcome. These simple icicle lights are a way to acknowledge the light of God’s love that has entered this world filled with so much darkness.

What if the chore of putting up lights became a spiritual practice where we contemplated the hope of bringing light to a darkened world? What if we paid attention to Christmas lights this Advent season and used them as a trigger to stop, take a breath, and considered in that very moment whether we are downtown, in our neighborhood or in our very own living room, where do we see the light of God’s love in others…where can we bring the light of God’s love to someone else? What are the spiritual practices that will help you move from the periphery of Christmas to the heart of Christmas? Will Christmas be like every other Christmas or will this year be different? How will you invite that difference?

I love the imagery in today’s Bible reading:

Prepare for God’s arrival. Make the road straight and smooth, fill in the valleys, level off the hills, smooth out the ruts, clear out the rocks…THEN, God’s bright light will shine and every one will see it.

How might we enter the story of Christ’s birth with the innocence of a child whose heart is open?

Let’s take a look at this video [VIDEO].

Today, we embark on a 4 week journey towards the celebration of the birth of Jesus. Since the 4^th century, Advent has been a time of preparing to celebrate the birth of Christ and to ready ourselves for the coming of God’s reign.

As we make this journey, we are going to participate in something called The Advent Conspiracy.

Advent means “coming” – the “coming” of God in human flesh and the “coming’ of God’s reign.

Prepare for God’s arrival – not in a manger this time, but in our lives. Advent is a time of expectation. Are you entering this season of Advent with an expectation of transformation? Or, is it just another celebration? What are the stories we need to remove to make room in our heart for Christ to be born?

The promise of Jesus’ coming has already happened. We wait in hope, not for Jesus to be born again, but for God’s realm to be born again. Jesus, the embodiment of God’s amazing gift of love on earth, has been born. And in that mysterious and wondrous event, God set loose hope in the world forever.

Advent is a season of preparation and anticipation – a time set aside to wait, reflect, hope and prepare for the day when God’s gift of love will be embodied by each one of us. What are those stones we need to remove to make room in our hearts for Christ to be born?

Advent is a time to prepare and participate in a conspiracy that something new might be born, for ourselves and for the world.

The word conspiracy typically is a plot and it is a plot to overturn the existing social order. We’re inviting you to move through Advent this year joining us in a plot to think differently about the way we celebrate Christmas. The four weeks of Advent we will focus on four simple, yet profound, ways we invite you to celebrate Christmas this year: Worship Fully, Spend Less, Give More, Love All.

It was Thanksgiving morning, I got up early and went for a walk so I could spend time walking and praying and choosing to be grateful.

I came back and realized I had time to read the newspaper. I rarely give myself time to read the newspaper. And this is what I found: [HOLD UP PAPER]

I searched for actual newspaper articles but they were hard to find in the midst of the pages and pages and pages of advertisements.

The message was very, very clear. Christmas is STUFF.

It cried out to me that in order to really celebrate Christmas I needed to buy more STUFF, bigger stuff, cooler stuff and newer stuff for every body I love.

The message of this huge stack of advertisements is that everything we were grateful for this past Thursday is suddenly no longer enough. How sad this stack of advertisements came on the very day we are invited to choose to be grateful for what we have – and resist our consumeristic society’s seduction of believing we need more!

How easy it is to get lured into the trap of going from shop to shop trying to figure out if we got enough for our kids, got enough for our spouses, got enough for our parents, enough for our siblings…did we get enough?

Enough for what? What are we trying to prove by buying enough? And then we compare each of the kids, did this one get enough or do we need to get a little more for this one?

In order to what? Say that we love them? Is that how we say we love them? In order to make them happy? Does happiness lie in stuff? We live in a culture where people have to rent storage units because they have too much stuff in and we’re going to buy them more stuff – why?

I’m not trying to be the Grinch who stole Christmas. There’s something valuable in exchanging gifts. But, as Michael Slaughter reminds us in the title of his new book, “It’s Not Your Birthday!”

What we’re asking in The Advent Conspiracy is how did a story about hope, promise and revolutionary love get hijacked by consumerism, frenzied activity and stress. How can we move from the periphery and the distractions return to the heart of what it is all about and in , so doing, make room for something new to happen in our hearts? How can we enter the story more deeply this year that it might change our story?

I have to confess, more times than not, I miss the promise of this season My heart is so full of other things. Will my heart be ready this year?

The Gospel of Luke says, “The time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her first born, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.”

Every year in Christmas pageants we witness portrayals of the Innkeeper as mean and gruff shouting, “There’s No Room in the Inn.”

What if the innkeeper wasn’t that way at all? Maybe he was a compassionate guy and he’d given up every room he had because  everyone was in town for the census. It was a busy night. He was busy. He told this young couple they could stay in the stable in the back and he would try to keep them warm..

We don’t really know anything about the innkeeper, but the one thing we do know is that like everybody else in the town, he MISSED the most significant event that has ever occurred.

God’s love entered the world, the Messiah was born. The angels announced it. The shepherds celebrated it. The wise men came seeking after it. It had been promised throughout the ages, and now it was happening.

Yet, most everyone in Nazareth that night MISSED IT. They were busy doing something else. Their hearts were full of other things.

When it comes to preparing for Christmas, we often just do what we’ve always done, year after year. We follow the same formula designed to yield us the appropriate level of Christmas cheer.

We may find ourselves completely prepared for Christmas, and at the same time, not at all prepared for Christ.

Much of our Christmas celebrations are like the scene in the Bethlehem Inn – well planned travelling, well choreographed eating and drinking, perhaps even singing.

While the Christ child is born in the manger just outside – just beyond our preparations, just beyond our expectations . . . just beyond where we’re paying attention.

Someone wise said, “If Christmas isn’t found in your heart, you won’t find it under the tree.” How can we enter the story of Christ’s birth with the innocence of a child whose heart is open?

A story I love to share to start the  Advent season is a story of someone who didn’t miss it – it’s the story of Wallace Purling.

“For years now whenever Christmas pageants are talked about in a certain little town in the Midwest, someone is sure to mention the name Wallace Purling. Wally’s performance in one annual production of the Nativity play has slipped into the realm of legend. But the oldtimers who were in the audience that night never tire of recalling exactly what happened.

Wally was nine that year and in the second grade, though he should have been in the fourth. Most people in town knew that he had difficulty in keeping up. He was big and clumsy, slow in movement and mind. Still, Wally was well liked by the other children in his class, all of whom were smaller than he, though the boys had trouble hiding their irritation when the uncoordinated Wally would ask to play ball with them.

Most often they’d find a way to keep him off the field, but Wally would hang around anyway – not sulking, just hoping. He was always a helpful boy, a willing and smiling one, and the natural protector, paradoxically, of the underdog. Sometimes if the older boys chased the younger ones away, it would always be Wally who’d say, “Can’t they stay? They’re no bother.”

Wally fancied the idea of being in the Christmas pageant that year as a shepherd with a flute, but the play’s director, Miss Lumbard, assigned him to a more important role. After all, she reasoned, the Innkeeper did not have too many lines, and Wally’s size would make his refusal of lodging to Joseph more forceful.

And so it happened that the usual large, partisan audience gathered for the town’s Yuletide extravaganza of the shepherd crooks and crèches, of beards, crowns, halos, sheep costumes and a whole stage full of squeaky voices. No one on stage or off was more caught up in the magic of the night than Wallace Purling. They said later that he stood in the wings and watched the performance with such fascination that from time to time Miss Lumbard had to make sure he didn’t wander onstage before his cue.

Then the time came when Joseph appeared, slowly, tenderly guiding Mary to the door of the Inn. Joseph knocked hard on the wooden door set into the painted backdrop. Wally the Innkeeper was there, waiting.

“What do you want?” Wally said, swinging the door open with a brusque gesture.

“We seek lodging.”

“Seek it elsewhere.” Wally looked straight ahead but spoke vigorously. “The Inn is filled.”

‘Sir”, we have asked everywhere in vain. We have traveled far and are very weary.”

“There is no room in this Inn for you.” Wally looked properly stern.

“Please, good Innkeeper, this is my wife, Mary. She is heavy with child and needs a place to rest. Surely you must have some small corner for her. She is so tired.”

Now for the first time, the Innkeeper relaxed his stiff stance and looked down at Mary. With that, there was a long pause, long enough to make the audience squirm, a bit tense with embarrassment.

Finally the prompter whispered from the wings, “Wally, your line is ‘No! Begone!’”

And Wally repeated automatically, ‘No! Begone!’

So Joseph sadly placed his arm around Mary, and Mary laid her head upon her husband’s shoulder and the two of them started to move away. The Innkeeper, however, did not return inside his inn. Wally stood there in the doorway, watching the forlorn couple. His mouth was open, his brow creased with concern, his eyes filling unmistakably with tears.

And suddenly this Christmas pageant became different from all others.

“Don’t go, Joseph,’ Wally called out. ‘Bring Mary back.’ And Wallace Purling’s face grew into a bright smile. ‘You can have my room.’

Some people in town thought that the pageant had been ruined. Yet there were others – many, many others – who considered it the most Christmas of all Christmas pageants they had ever seen.”

“You can have my room.” In those words, we hear the love of Christ being born anew in the heart of Wallace Purling, and, in response to Wally’s words, also being born anew in the hearts of many others.

Will we follow the same script as we always have this Christmas? Or, will you join the conspiracy and enter the story with the innocence of a child’s whole heart wide open?

 

 

Psalm 100

Someone asked a spiritual teacher, “What is the worst Karma a person can undergo on earth? What is the greatest difficulty? The harshest circumstances?

What an interesting question . . . is it financial poverty, hunger, to be born in a war-torn country, mental illness, debilitating physical illness … the possible list seems endless.

The spiritual teacher’s answer was surprising, “The worst Karma is to be ungrateful. If you suffer from ingratitude then it won’t matter what blessings and goodness are in your life, you won’t be capable of receiving it.

In contrast, if you are grateful then even in the most challenging of circumstances, you will be able to recognize the many gifts that you are receiving.

My mantra is: A grateful heart is a peaceful heart is a loving heart . . . somehow it starts with the capacity to cultivate gratitude even if, and perhaps especially, when there seems to be very little to be grateful about.

When you are able to recognize the challenges you face are not the whole story, it helps you live your story with grace and courage.

Reverend Forrest Church recently died of esophageal cancer and he wrote a book called Love and Death about his experience of living and dying.

Church describes our lives as a stained glass window with many panes. Each pane, he says, “looks out onto some aspect of our life: our vocations and avocations; our spouse or companion if we have one; our parents, our children, our health, our financial health, our world.”

“At any given time,” he continues, “Some of these panes are likely to be rosy and translucent.”

We’re happy in our work. We enjoy a healthy relationship with our partner. Our kids are loving, kind and well-behaved. But then he asks us to imagine that one of the panes of our window suddenly grows cloudy, then opaque.

We receive a diagnosis of disease. Or we lose our job. Or a relationship is strained. Suddenly, we can’t see any light through that pane; it’s just black.

Our tendency, Church tells us,” is to press our nose up against that one dark pane, desperately trying to see through it.”

Then he points out this reality: “When we do this we lose all sense of proportion. Our entire world goes black. With our nose pressed up against the one frame dark pane where we can’t see anything, all our other lights go out.” (Love and Death, p.32-33)

He says we need to constructively and faithfully attend to the pane that has gone dark, but try not to lose sight of the other panes, and the light that flows freely through them.

For example, our fiscal challenges don’t necessarily impair our capacity to love and be loved. It doesn’t sever the relationships that sustain and renew us. It doesn’t make the sunsets any less beautiful or each day we are alive any less precious or miraculous.

In fact, intentionally cultivating a spirit of gratitude can help us to see that the shaky ground we are standing on is and has always been holy ground.

Grace is the undeserved gift of life.

Joy is when we know it.

Gratitude is the spirit and practice that opens our eyes and heart to that awareness.

A great movie is with Dewitt Jones, a National Geographic photographer, called Celebrate what’s Right with the World.

The photography is amazing.

In one scene Dewitt has been assigned to take photographs of a field of dandelions and wasn’t excited to do it that day.

He comes back a few days later and the dandelions had all turned into puff balls.

He is about to leave and a little voice in him said, “Come on Dewitt, I know this isn’t how you planned it. But what’s here to celebrate?”

He stays to take a bunch of photos and when he shifts his angle looking up at the sun, he captures a beautiful shot of a puff ball silhouetted in the sunlight.

(Photo on screen)

I’m intrigued by that phrase, “What’s here to celebrate?” Imagine if you are tired, stressed, overwhelmed, bored or worried, that you stop and asked yourself, “What’s here to celebrate?”

What happens is that it just might shift your perspective just a little bit, as Dewitt does with his camera. You might see the world from a different angle or through a different lens – more open, perhaps, receptive, even hopeful.

We all carry multiple lenses to see the world. Which lens do you use? Hopeful, welcoming, grateful or cynical, angry and skeptical?

Dewitt Jones says celebrating what’s right can change your energy to face what’s wrong.

Our Psalm today:

“Enter with the password: ‘Thank You’ . . . for God is sheer beauty, all-generous in love, loyal always and ever.”

At the heart of Christian experience and teaching is not guilt, as we have sometimes been taught. It is not obligation and duty. It is gratitude . . . pure and simple.

Gratitude for the gift of God’s amazing grace revealed in Jesus . . . gratitude for the sacred gift of life . . . gratitude because all of life, every precious moment of it, is a gift we did not earn but were given.

Grace is the undeserved gift of life and the gift of God’s unconditional love.

Joy is when we know it.

Gratitude is the spirit and practice that opens our eyes to that awareness.

Albert Einstein said there are two lenses to see life: either as if nothing is a miracle or as if EVERYTHING is a miracle.

A grateful heart is a peaceful heart is a loving heart.

C.S. Lewis said what we need most as human beings is a good dose of praise and thanksgiving. “Gratitude,” he said, “Is inner health made visible.”

The Bible is a constant and persistent advocate of giving thanks.

Today’s reading, Psalm 100, encourages us to “Make a joyful noise onto the Lord and enter into God’s presence with thanksgiving.”

The remarkable thing about the Biblical command to praise and thank God is that those words are mostly written by people who had precious little to be joyful about.

Most of the glorious psalms of thanksgiving were written during times of tragedy, exile and suffering.

There’s something about gratitude that’s more powerful and authentic when it is experienced and expressed not in the good times, when it’s easy to be grateful, but in the not-so-good times.

There’s something magnificently defiant and profoundly faithful about gratitude in adversity.

My good friend Heather Starr, who is the minister of the Unitarian Church here in Bend uses a term that is most appropriate, “Fierce Gratitude.”

We need to cultivate fierce gratitude.

She says it is fierce because it is about active appreciation, not passive receiving.

“Fierce,” she says, “Because being assertively grateful, choosing to be thankful, can be a source of power that can take us out of a victim stance and help us claim our power as people with an astonishing array of choices and options.”

“Fierce gratitude because gratitude brings us into the present moment, challenges us to notice what is, right now, not what we wish for the future or what we regret about the past.”

We know this intuitively, “just the simple act of saying grace, pausing to say thank you before a meal, brings us into the here-and-now, into this moment, at this table, with these people and this abundance” – regardless of what might be happening all around us.

“Fierce Gratitude” because being thankful is too easily portrayed as a passive stance, instead of a revolutionary response to the consumerism of our culture.

It is a powerful approach to be grateful for what is instead of saying “more, more, more” or saying I will be grateful when things in my life change.

Fierce gratitude is a defiant act. “It challenges us to be thankful for what IS, not what we wish could be, not what we might prefer or what television commercials might be manipulating us to long for, but deeply appreciative for what is right in front of us . . .” if we are able to find the lens to see it. (Heather Starr, Fierce Gratitude, a sermon preached on November 25, 2007 at Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Central Oregon)

After 9/11, there emerged an embodiment of grace and gratitude called POINT THANK YOU. Point Thank You is the name for a street corner in Greenwich Village – the corner of Christopher Streets and the Westside Highway – where, in the months following the World Trade Center attack, New Yorkers of all stripes gathered to show their gratitude to rescue workers leaving the wreckage. Where tourists from Japan and Europe, Jews from Brooklyn, yuppies, the homeless, all gathered to say “thank you.” To applaud. To shout “we love you.”

It’s where an exhausted ironworker from Florida stopped every night to share a cigar with students from NYU. Where Greenwich Village drag queens passed out bottles of water to firemen from Iowa.

Even the Fire Department dogs – pressed into service to find human remains – even they got treats from the crowds of Point Thank You.

This demonstration of gratitude erupted spontaneously on the day of the attack and quickly gathered momentum. Web sites emerged, volunteer coordinators sprung up.

During the first few weeks after the attack hundreds gathered round the clock to pay tribute and express gratitude to rescue workers.

At around five o’clock when people got out of work the numbers swelled even more.

After a month or so, a solid core of a couple dozen volunteers rotated in shifts maintaining a 24 hour presence at Point Thank You throughout the freezing winter.

After a while, the folks at Point Thank You became legendary in New York. The volunteer’s tenacious commitment to fierce gratitude throughout the frigid winter caused some in New York to refer to them – affectionately – as “those nuts down on the Westside highway.”

The volunteers claimed this epithet as their own. The Thank You Nuts, they started calling themselves. Fools for gratitude in a city that previously hadn’t known what gratitude was.

In this culture of ours, that is becoming increasingly divisive, we could use a few Thank You Nuts. Gratitude Fools do not deny the reality around them but free a loving and peaceful energy with which to face those relaities.

A grateful heart is a peaceful heart is a loving heart. Maybe that’s why Meister Eckhart said if the only prayer we ever learn is THANK YOU, then that’s sufficient – because thank you helps us get in touch with the energy of God from whom all blessings flow.

It’s interesting the Muslim definition of sin is “forgetting.” Forgetting who our best selves are and settling for something less.

Gratitude calls forth our better selves that we often forget.

So when I read this week about the folks at Point Thank You in New York, it dawned on me that we all need something like a Point Thank You in our lives.

New Yorkers didn’t just leave gratitude to chance after 9/11. They built a check point of graciousness. A bulwark of gratitude on the city’s landscape so they wouldn’t forget.

We need checkpoints too. Regular reminders of that fundamental prayer, Thank You.

In our sermon discussion group this past Wednesday, Charles said, “notice how many verbs are in the psalm . . . shout, applaud, laugh, sing, know, worship, thank.” Gratitude is something you practice.

Gratitude – fierce gratitude is not a passive receiving – but an active appreciation – it is a spiritual discipline –

• Saying grace before meals
• Keeping a gratitude journey
• Writing thank you notes
• Learning how to be present
• Asking yourself “what’s here to celebrate.”
• Learning to appreciate “what is” rather than wanting “more” or waiting until life is different.

Fierce gratitude is a spiritual discipline – maybe one of the most important of all – for a grateful heart is a peaceful heart is a loving heart.

So, let me finish by saying thank you to all of you. I am so grateful to be at this church.

So grateful to be among a loving people who minister to one another with such care and compassion.

So grateful to be among a generous people who give so freely of their time and money.

So grateful to be among a conscientious people who grapple with how best to be in service to the world.

So grateful to be in partnership with such a committed, creative and caring staff.

So grateful to be among a congregation that understands that ministry is not something that just the pastor does, but that is something we all do together.

I am so blessed to share this complex, difficult, amazing journey of life with you.

I am so grateful to be lead pastor of this amazing church – of this amazing community of faith.

So grateful for this accepting, forgiving community that gives you permission to be human.

So grateful to be among a congregation that understand ministry is not something just the pastor does, but something we all do together.

So grateful for the passion of this community seeking to make a difference.

May we be gratitude fools – practicing fierce gratitude – God knows the world could use such foolishness.

Matthew 25:14-20

 

Today is Commitment Sunday. This is the day we culminate our Stewardship Campaign: The Story We Are Living: Spiritual Courage in Economic Grief. This is the day we express our commitment as a church to respond to these difficult and challenging times by pledging ourselves to lay down our fear, breathe in the spirit of courage that was in Christ and offer our gifts and our whole selves as expressions of hope and grace in a troubled and broken world.

 

These are difficult and fearful times. Our culture believes the antidote to fear is security, trying to acquire more or holding on as tightly as we can to what we have. The Bible makes it clear that the only real antidote to fear is LOVE as it says in First John, “Love casts out fear.” The more we risk, letting go, giving ourselves in love, the less fear we will have.

 

In 1947 Vladimir Zenchekov, a government accounting clerk in Russia, returned home from a night of drinking to discover that he had lost 400 ration cards which belonged to his boss.

 

This was not a good thing. In postwar Russia, ration cards were worth your life. To lose these cards meant that Vladimir would be sent to Siberia.

 

So Vladimir’s wife took quick action. The next day she told his coworkers that he had run off with another woman. Then for the next 22 years the terrified man never once left his house.

 

In 1969 Vladimir’s wife died, so he went to the local police station to turn himself in. The police looked up the case and told him that the ration  cards had actually turned up in his desk drawer the day after he disappeared in 1947. For 22 years he had been hiding in his house in fear. It’s amazing what fear will do to us if we let it overcome us. Fear can define and control our lives.

 

Biblical scholar Walter Brueggemann said, “If this is truly God’s world and if the rule of love is at work, then our mandate is not to retreat into a cocoon of safety; rather it is to be out and alive in the world as clear and visible witnesses to the love revealed in Christ that is greater than fear, not just when it is safe and comfortable or easy to do but at all times and in all places.”

 

Stewardship isn’t ultimately about fundraising. It’s a spiritual practice. When we determine how much to give, whether it be our money, our time, our gifts, do we make that decision based on what is reasonable, comfortable, safe? Or, do we make that decision based on a prayerful discernment as to how God might be seeking to use our lives? What role does fear play in the decisions we make? What role does faith play?

 

The journey of faith is the movement from living our lives like this (arms crossed across chest) to living like this (arms wide open). For God so loved the world that God gave . . .

 

Here’s the radical, startling conviction of our faith: God revealed God’s heart in a helpless, vulnerable little child, not to overwhelm the world with divine power and might, but to call forth the love that is in every human heart, here’s the startling conviction of our faith, God’s hope is to redeem and heal the broken world through the lives of ordinary, broken folks like you and me; to redeem and save our souls not by delivering us, or keeping us safe from this broken and fearful world, but by transforming us into big hearted and courageous lovers – who no longer live like this (arms crossed) allowing fear to define and controls us, but who are growing, whose arms and hearts and hands are wide open, in spiritual courage to live like this (arms wide open). Love casts out fear.

 

What a difference it is to get up in the morning, hide under the covers in fear and moan, “Good God, it’s morning” versus opening our hearts wide open daring to say, “Good morning God, what adventures do you have in store for us today?”

 

A steward is some one entrusted with a gift. Life itself is a gift. I want to share a video of a man whose arms and heart are wide open. [VIDEO]. Wow…the purpose of life is to give…to know the joy of giving.

The parable in today’s Bible story has always troubled me. That’s a good thing because the Bible should trouble us. All too often we try to make God’s story fit our story. When we do that, that story is too small and God becomes too small. Our invitation always is to step outside of our comfort zones finding the meaning of our story in a much larger story than ourselves.

 

There are many ways to read the parable of the talents. How challenging to read the story in light of the risk of investing these days. How fascinating in light of the Occupy Wall Street movement, to read this parable and wrestle with the idea of a rich owner who would take from the poor and give to those who are already rich. Especially when the very next story after this one is Jesus saying unless you care for the least of those you do not care for me. We could have some interesting discussions on this parable in light of the realities that surround us today.

 

What if we read the story through a different lens where the Master wasn’t God? I have a really tough time reconciling a forgiving God of love and justice with the harsh, judgmental master in this story.

 

What if the Master in this story was each person’s own perspective on life? The framework we adopt can become a harsh master controlling our choices. It makes a huge difference whether you live in a world of abundance or a world of scarcity.

 

The first two servants viewed life as a gift not to hold on to and protect and play it safe but to take that gift and risk investing it fully, risk giving it away. They lived in an abundant world . . . the more you give away, the more you have, the more you experience true joy and freedom.

 

The third servant in the story was driven and controlled by fear. He lived in a world of scarcity. Fear became his Master. Being driven by fear, his actions created the very reality he feared.

 

John Buchanan wrote, “The greatest risk of all, it turns out, is not to risk anything – to play it safe, to live cautiously and prudently.”

 

Annie Dillard said, “You can’t test courage cautiously.”

Buchanan says one of the ancient church’s seven deadly sins is sloth. Sloth is not laziness. Sloth means not caring, not loving, not rejoicing, not living up to the full potential of our humanity, playing it safe, investing nothing, being cautious. Digging a hole and burying the money in the ground…allowing fear to control our lives…living like this (arms crossed).

 

Jesus’ warning, perhaps, is that the outcome of being drive by fear, playing it safe is that something in your soul shrivels and dies, like being banished to the outer darkness. You no longer sense that spark of Divine light within you.

 

Is your faith comfortable, safe or does your faith seem like a high risk venture? Where does your faith invite you to open your hands, open your arms, open your heart? Open your life?

 

Here’s the radical, uniqueness of our faith – we have a God revealed in Jesus who said when you try to hold on and protect and save your life, you will lose it but when you are willing to give your life away, it is then you will find life. It is then that you will experience true freedom and joy. And this Jesus opened his arms as wide as they could be giving his very life revealing a love we believe is stronger than even death itself…revealing a love that has the power to cast out all fear.

 

And Jesus doesn’t simply say, believe these ideas about me. Jesus says, “Follow me.”

 

That is the challenge and invitation of our faith, when the circumstances and the fear of the world around us tempt us to live like this (arms crossed), there is a Spirit of Love we can draw on that is greater than our fear gives us the spiritual courage we need to live like this (arms wide open).

 

In her book, Spot of Grace, Donna Markova writes, “Recent findings in neuroscience teach us that our brains have the capacity to grow throughout our lives.

 

Even after we grow up, we can grow forward and we can grow deep and we can grow wide. We grow through difficulties …we grow through adversity. It is our nature to grow – to become more intelligent, more fertile, wiser, more resilient,  more generous, more loving (more courageous).

It is all that life asks of you really: to grow what you were given, the spot of grace that is who you truly are; to allow the seeds in you to blossom in the light of the life you are experiencing; to cultivate this garden (that is your life)…to loosen your grip and open your hands and release the fruit of your existence. You don’t need money to do this. The moments you are given are your true wealth. You are a spot of grace in the world.”

 

May we have the spiritual courage and faith to be the people God created us to be and to boldly and generously live the lives Jesus calls us to live . . . to be a spot of grace in the world.

 

Teresa of Avila, A Christian Saint, lived in the 16^th century, a time of great fear and suffering n the world. She wrote these words,

“Christ has no body but yours, no hands, no feet on earth, but yours. Yours are the eyes with which Christ looks with compassion on this world. Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good. Yours are the hands with which he blesses all the world.

Yours are the hands, the feet, the eyes. You are his body.

Christ has no body but yours.”

 

Turn to the persons on either side of you and make a sign of the cross on the palm of their hands and offer them a blessing with the words: BE STRONG AND COURAGEOUS! GOD IS WITH YOU!

 

 

1 Thessalonians 1:1-10

A very rich man liked to reward people with courage. He had a huge swimming pool in his backyard he filled with every dangerous fish you could imagine: shark, barracuda, and piranha.

He said the first person who has the courage to jump in on this end and make it all the way to the other side wins a million dollars.

Before he even finished he heard a splash. There in the pool was the least likely person you would think to accept this challenge. A small, timid looking man was in the pool flailing his arms as if his life depended on it. It did!

He made it to the other side. The rich man congratulated him and said the million dollars is yours!

The man said, “Million dollars? I don’t care about the million dollars. I want the name of the S.O.B. who pushed me in!”

That’s the experience of many these days . . . feeling pushed and drowning in a pool of uncertainty, anxiety, fear, instability, loss . . .

Struggling to keep our head above water . . . struggling to breathe. . . struggling to find the courage to keep going to the other side.

Today, we’re beginning a new message series to coincide with our stewardship campaign called: The Story we are Living: Spiritual Courage in Economic Grief. How much spiritual courage do you have?

Australian poet and cartoonist, Michael Leunig writes,

“There are only two feelings: love and fear.

There are only two languages: love and fear.

There are only two activities: love and fear.

There are only two motives, two procedures, two frameworks, two paths, two results: love and fear.

Love and fear.

When the very air we breathe these days is saturated by fear . . . how do we cultivate the spiritual courage to live from a place of love and abundance instead of from a place of fear and scarcity?

This year our church’s theme is Living a Better Story. What a challenge that is in our world’s economic grief.

Many here, if not most, are personally affected by lost jobs, foreclosed homes, reduced assets. A day doesn’t go by where a political crisis or news from Wall Street threatens to increase our anxiety and far.

There’s a tremendous sense of loss all around us . . . not just lost assets, but a loss of confidence in those who lead, a loss of hope in the future, a loss of trust in the essential goodness of life, a loss of spirit that your individual life matters.

One of the original demonstrators of Occupation Wall Street was asked what initially drew him to get involved, he replies, “I want to have children some day and this is becoming a world not good for children. It is time we stop trying to be masters of the universe and start becoming caring stewards of the universe but I fear it is too late.”

Economic grief affects us all.

A natural tendency is to shrink back and grasp at security when faced with so much loss and uncertainty. Fear gets a tight grip on our hearts.

We are asking the question this year “What does it mean to live a better story NOW in 2011 . . . not sometime in the future . . . but right now in the midst of our challenges.

As a faith community, we are challenged to spiritual courage. We are challenged to choose love over fear. In our Bible reading today, Paul praises the church at Thessalonica saying, “It is clear God has put his hand on you for something special . . . although you have experienced great trouble, you have been a model of faith . . . the news of your faith in these troubling times has spread everywhere.”

I believe God’s hand is on us for something special especially right now in these challenging times.

How can we as a church model courageous, faith-filled generous living in a climate of fear, anxiety and uncertainty?

How can we see the challenges in our community and our world as an invitation to go deeper in our call to share the unconditional love of Jesus, when it is needed now more than ever?

It would be so easy to give into the prevalent fear and allow our conversations to be dominated by budget cuts and diminished programs.

What if we saw the challenges of today as an invitation to live a different story than the culture around us . . . an invitation to wrestle with the spiritual courage it might take to choose love over fear?

A wise teacher of mine once asked what I thought it would be like if people learned to welcome anxiety, fear and uncertainty as mysterious angels whose invitation is not for us to chase after them into anguish, but to be reminded by their presence to return to our center, return to God and find there unexpected courage, strength, love.

Richard Rohr says every day there are 1001 ways life doesn’t go according to your plan and you can choose to fight this reality of choose your fear and anxiety and anguish or you can realize there are 1001 invitations every day to return to God and trust. Funny thing is that it’s not a challenge to trust God when things are going well.

This past Thursday, on my day off, I had 105 things I had to accomplish in order to free myself to go to Portland and watch my son play football. I was anxious and stressed. And, wouldn’t you know it, I got a flat tire. And for some reason, my wrench didn’t fit the lug nuts on the tire. I was invoking the name of God but not in the way I should be. I could almost feel this flood of panic I can’t afford for this to happen. Not now! Doug, our maintenance engineer, came to my rescue. Doug handed me the keys to his car and calmly said, “Go run your errands and I’ll wait for Les Schwab to come.” Seeing Doug on his hands and knees crawling underneath my car, I got a glimpse of goodness. I was invited to take a deep breath, turn my attention to God and be really thankful for community . . . thankful that we’re in this together. It’s hard to be grateful and anxious at the same time. Before, I was running around focused on what “I” had to do. I hadn’t invited God to be part of the journey. I could have spent the rest of my day chasing after my anxiety.

What if we saw our anxiety and fear as mysterious angels whose invitation is not to chase after them into anguish, but to be reminded by their presence to return to our center, to return to God. You might be surprised to find there unexpected grace, courage, strength, love.

You’ve heard me say before stress is when the perceived demands of life exceed your perceived resources to meet those demands. We focus so much of our energy and attention on the demands, much of which is outside our control. It’s like a mountain – we constantly think about how tall the mountain is . . . how steep the climb – convince ourselves we’ll never get to the top – how would it change if instead, we became aware we have a backpack – we discover resources we need in the backpack for the climb and we’re not alone. There is someone who will take every step with us.

Adam Fronczek, a pastor at Fourth Presbyterian in Chicago, tells the story of his friend Andrew Bridge.

Andy is a dermatologist. A year ago he was in a horrible accident and lost his ability to walk.

Barring significant advances in stem cell research and spinal cord injury, he will spend the rest of his life in a wheel chair, paralyzed from the chest down.

Andy’s progress in the last year has been remarkable in many ways:

He is regaining his ability to live on his own.

He has started a new fellowship in dermopathology at Indiana University.

He drives a minivan that he is able to drive with the use of hand controls.

But even given all those concrete signs of hope, what amazes Adam and all of Andy’s friends, is his tremendous spirit.

Reflecting on the last year, Andy says, “Life is hard for me now. Everything is hard and takes such a long time. It’s hard to take a shower and get in and out of the car. I have to get up so early just to get to work on time. And over the past year I’ve noticed that even though I keep getting more capable all the time, things are still hard, and for the foreseeable future, everything is going to continue to be really hard.

Then, Adam said Andy said something he’ll never forget.

Andy said, “For a while I was troubled by how hard things are now,” he said, “but the more I thought about it, I realized that I felt exactly the same way about my life before I ever got hurt. I can clearly remember being in medical school and thinking what a relief residency would be, and then finding out residency was just as hard. I remember feeling the same way about becoming a physician when I was a resident, and now, I realize that I still have to put in long days because now the buck stops with me, and if I don’t finish my work people suffer. And once I realized that, it occurred to me that sure, my life is hard, but my life has always been hard, and life is hard for everyone, even, and maybe especially when life is lived well. Life is hard now,” Andy said, “but there are a lot of amazing things I still have to do.”

What an amazing example of refusing to be dismayed, refusing to be “paralyzed” if you will, by the deep challenges of life, but, instead, finding the spiritual courage to choose life and to choose love over fear and bitterness . . . realizing life isn’t easy but life can still be good . . . even in the difficulties, there is always an invitation to return to our center, return to God and find there unexpected grace, strength, courage, love.

Paul held up the church at Thessalonica as an example of a courageous, faith-filled, generous community of faith.

He says, “They deserted the dead idols of their old life so they could embrace and serve God.”

When we’re anxious and afraid we often cling tightly to those things we think will bring us security, comfort, control.

Paul said the transformation of the community of Thessalonica came when they let go of those things they cling to in fear and turn to God.

There are all kinds of wonderful social organizations in our community and in our world.

But, the unique thing about the life of the church is that it is a community of the spirit.

We’re not just seeking courage that we hope to muster on our own will power.

We’re seeking spiritual courage.

This is a place where we nurture and challenge our souls. It is a place where soul work is not only welcome but is an essential part of our journey. Have you considered what kind of soul work for you those challenging times invite?

It is about cultivating the spiritual courage to choose love over fear, realizing that our true security comes from God’s presence in our lives and not from anything else.

The paradox of spiritual courage is that it usually comes when we are at our most vulnerable – when we realize we can’t do it on our own – it is then that we turn to God and find those unexpected resources of courage and strength and love.

Our stewardship campaign: Spiritual Courage in Economic Grief is certainly about seeing the challenges in our community and world as opportunities to go deeper in our call to share the unconditional love of Jesus because the generosity of that love is needed more than ever.

Our community needs us now more than ever. I plead with you to stretch and support your church generously so we can respond generously.

But this stewardship campaign is about so much more than that – it is about the very transformation of our lives and community – it is about letting go of those idols, of security, of our old life that we cling to in fear, so that we can embrace and serve God. It is about seeing our anxiety and fear as an invitation to turn to God in ways, perhaps, we never have before.

It is about cultivating the spiritual courage to choose love over fear.

I encourage you to make prayer central to your life in the next month.

Let our prayer be, “God, give me the spiritual courage to love from a place of love rather than from a place of fear.”

In your bulletin is a breath prayer to use over the next month –

          Breathing in – Courage and strength

          Breathing out – God is with me.

It’s interesting, the most frequently used phrase in the entire Bible, appearing twice as often as love, prayer, faith, sin . . . the phrase, “Be not afraid!” God knows that fear more than anything else prevents us from living the life God intends.

Be not afraid –

That is exactly what one congregation decided to do. As I share this church’s story, thing about what this might look like in your individual life, be aware of where your resistance might be. Where is there soul work for you?

At one point in its past, the Corpus Christi Catholic Church worshipped about 5,000 each Sunday morning. In recent years, however, church attendance declined to about 200. And the parishioners were afraid. The diocese was actually talking about closing the parish.

The parish priest, Father James Cullen, wrote these words about the church’s predicament:

“What do you do when your church is dying? You would think that the answer would be to preserve it, to hang on to it, to protect it. No! just the opposite.

Let it go.

Share what little you have.

Reach out to the poor.

Give it away before you get it.

Take a chance. Risk. Live. Love.

This is what the church did: first of all, they gave away 10% of every offering to the poor.

Again the pastor writes: “To the poor? Weren’t we the poor? In some ways we were. That January, the gas and electric bill for one month was over $10,000. The collection each week was $450.00

You do the math. We were in trouble. So why would we want to give away 10% of our small collection when we ourselves were suffering? Simply because other people in the world were worse off than we were. At least we were eating every day. We had lost so much but by the world’s standards we were still rich. Anyway, we thought that Jesus would feel more at home in a church that was generous to the needy.

The second radical step we took was to eliminate all of our investments. We decided to sell our stocks and bonds, to empty our portfolio, and to give the money to the poor. This way we would have nothing to depend on except God and the generosity of the parishioners. We realized we were clinging too tightly in our fear to those things we deluded ourselves into thinking would make us secure.

We also turned our attention to reaching out personally, giving space to listen to the stories of those who were hurting.” Let me add, for a minute, in the spiritual struggle to find the courage to choose love over fear, you first need permission and a safe place to talk about your fears.

It has been my experience that when crisis strikes – many people retreat into their private pain, embarrassed by their hardship, ashamed of their feelings, afraid the people around them will judge them.

I worry that people slip away from their community, precisely when they need their community’s support the most.

However this economic down turn is affecting you, there is one investment that will offer a high return, especially when we are at the lowest point in our lives . . . and that is this church.

If you are struggling, if you are sinking, if you feel like drowning . . . call us, call me . . . call Pastor Jenny or Pastor Greg or Elizabeth.

Don’t suffer in silence. Don’t agonize alone. Don’t fall away from your faith community that wants to help and support you.

Asking for help is not weakness. It is the desire to be strong. It is the spiritual courage of realizing we can’t do it on our own, we need each other to help us choose love over fear. When we are in any kind of grief, it is so important to be able to tell our stories to someone.

The Corpus Christi church deserted their old idols of security and chose love over fear and Father Cullen reports these results: “The Sunday attendance went from 200 to 2,200. Babies are crying again in the church. We’re alive again! Corpus Christi started to experience a new life when we let go and took some chances . . . when we found the courage to choose love over fear.

We discovered that faith meant leaving something behind and reaching out for something not yet tangible.”

There are only two feelings: love and fear.

There are only two languages: love and fear.

There are only two activities: love and fear.

There are only two paths: love and fear.

God, give us the spiritual courage to choose love over fear.

Philippians 2.1-13

 

It had to do with an incident at a city traffic light. The light had turned green, and the car that was closest to the light didn’t move. The driver in the second car impatiently blew her horn; the man in the first car remained oblivious to the green light. The second driver impatiently blew her horn again; the first car didn’t move. The second driver began pounding the steering wheel; she screamed and cursed and of course, the light turned yellow and the man finally woke up, drove off and left the second car to sit through still another red light.

 

The driver was furious. She was swearing and pounding on her steering wheel again when she heard a tap on her window. She looked up to see a police officer, who ordered her to get out of the car. He handcuffed her and wanted to arrest her. She was surprised because she didn’t break the law. The officer said, “When I pulled up behind you, you were blowing your horn and cursing; and as I was sitting there I noticed the bumper sticker on the right side of  your car: What would Jesus do?

 

On the left bumper was that other bumper sticker: Follow Me to Sunday school. And then there was the chrome plated Christian fish emblem on your trunk. So, naturally I assumed that you’d stolen the car!”

 

I only laugh at this story because I’ve been there . . . once or twice.

 

Sometimes our faith sentiments do not match our actions and lifestyles. But, perhaps, Living a Better Story is one where our story more and more reflects the story of Christ.

This is not a guilt trip. This is a lifelong journey of growth and transformation Father Richard Rohr describes this way, “. . . experiencing the presence of God in such a way that you become a new presence in the world. Transformed within, we participate with God in the transformation of the world.”

 

Transformation . . . this is the heart of our faith. When it comes to your faith do you expect to be changed . . . transformed?

 

Often Christians fight over the right form of worship or the right kind of doctrine or the right belief systems.

 

Some insist that only believing a certain set of doctrines would make us true Christians.

 

Some insist that only doing worship in a certain way would make us true Christians.

 

Some insist on saying a particular formulaic prayer is the only way to be a true Christian.

 

Some insist you have to interpret the Bible in a particular way to be a true Christian.

 

What is often forgotten or at least neglected is that our faith in God is about our whole way of life and our way of life as a community of faith.

 

Beliefs, worship, the Bible, prayer are there to help support us on the path of life and faith. They are not goals in and of themselves. They are the means to open us to God and God’s creation. They are to help us experience the presence of God in such a way that we become a new kind of presence in the world. Transformed within we participate in the spirit of transformation in the world.

 

I am often asked why we emphasize contemplation, centering prayer, being still, and spiritual practices so much. In fact I believe introducing more and more of us to centering prayer could be the one thing that transforms us and the life of our community more than anything else. It will help us have the faith of Jesus. When we learn how to become present to God it will transform the way you are present in the world.

 

Joan Chittister says, “The hope is that God becomes not simply an idea but a reality . . . a reality that transforms all aspects of our daily life.”

 

Maybe this is why Annie Dillard says when people come to worship we should hand out hard hats and not hymn books and bulletins . . . because if we truly opened our lives to the presence of God, every aspect of our lives would be under construction.

 

C.S. Lewis said, “Those who hears, saw and experienced the presence of Jesus either had to follow him or they thought he was crazy. There was no middle ground.”

 

Here’s my fear . . . I fear that I spend a lot of my energy trying to find the middle ground. I fear, at times, the church, the body of Christ in the world, has excelled at finding middle ground. Middle ground is certainly safer and more comfortable. You don’t need hard hats in the middle ground.

 

A test was given to students at Harvard Divinity School. It was a very clever test. It was for a course called “Christians and Society.” The professor created a test three hours long on the subject “Being a Christian in a Post-Christian Society.”

 

Halfway through the test, the professor arranged for a ten minute break. The students were to leave the room for a few minutes, get fresh air, and then come back and then take the last hour and a half of the test.

 

The students were writing as fast and furious as they could on what it means to be a follower of Jesus in today’s postmodern society. But not it was break time and the students went out into the courtyard where there was iced tea and cookies. And there in the courtyard was another part of the test, although the students didn’t know it. This was the rest test.

 

There was a man sitting on a nearby bench who appeared to be homeless and if you got close enough you could see he was bleeding, just above his eye, as if he’d been beaten.

 

The problem is no one got close enough. It was as if the man was invisible. The students drank their tea, ate their cookies, shared notes on what they were writing so far, and then they hurried back to finish their test. Not one student bothered to go say hello to the man or ask if the man needed help. They were oblivious to his presence.

 

They were so preoccupied with themselves and their own self-preservation worrying about passing a knowledge test that they failed the heart test. They were so worried about answering the questions right about what it means to be a follower of Jesus that they missed the opportunity to live in the manner and spirit of Jesus, to reflect the hart of Jesus.

 

The Apostle Paul wrote in today’s Bible reading, “Let each of you look not to your own interests but to the interest of others. Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, humbled himself . . . poured himself out in love for the world.”

 

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus. Do we live in a way that allows others to see Christ in us?

 

This is the point in the sermon where I’m supposed to lay it on really thick and make you feel as guilty as possible. Come on, you need to do more, give more, love more, prayer more, serve more, sacrifice more . . . to be worthy of God’s love . . . in order to be a “good” Christian. Isn’t my job to make you feel as guilty as possible?

 

I often think of the story of Jesus washing the disciple’s feet. This story is presented as the model for the way we should life . . . the model of humility and servant hood. However, we often miss the verse that comes right before Jesus kneels and selflessly gives his love away.

 

Jesus says, “I know who I am. I know where I come from and I know where I am going.” Centered in God’s unconditional love, he is then able to pour that love into the lives of others not expecting anything in return. You can’t give away in a healthy, life-giving way that which you don’t first possess.

 

I think of Sister Lilia who I met in Manilla who works with the poorest of the poor every day in the most poverty stricken conditions you can imagine. Yet, Sister Lilia, who lives the most simple life, exudes joy. She has nothing and yet her life is full.

 

Every day, she wakes at 5 a.m. and sits for one hour emptying herself of her fears, her jealousies, her hurts, her resentments, and her anger. In other words, emptying herself of herself. Once emptied, she sees herself as a vessel ready to receive the love God desires to pour into her. She imagines God pouring God’s love into her to the point of overflowing. Her focus for the remainder of the day is to pour that love into everyone around her.

 

She makes herself present to God and it changes the way she is present in the world. Empty of all the things our world values, yet her life is rich and full and joyful.

 

What happens when we center our lives in the presence of God’s love is that it changes the way we are present in the world.

 

The Jesus story stands in direct contrast to the story of our culture. The paradox of the Jesus story is that less is more, empty is full, to give away is to receive, to lose yourself is to find yourself.

 

Jesus embodied the fullness of God and he experienced that fullness by emptying himself, humbling himself, walking the path of love and justice, ultimately giving his life for others.

 

Just think for a second how that story stands in stark contrast to the story of greed, selfishness and consumption in our culture.

 

Did you realize that if everyone in the world were to have the average US lifestyle, the world would need four planets to meet our usage? While Americans make up only 5% of the earth’s population, we consume 30% of the earth’s resources.

 

In her book Finding Our Way, Margaret Wheatly says, “America has embraced values that simply cannot create a sustainable society and world. We organize too many of our activities around beliefs that are inherently life and soul destroying. We believe that growth can be endless, that competition creates healthy relationships, and consumption needs have no limit, t hat meaning is found in things, that more is better, that aggression brings peace, that the earth is a commodity to be used for our pleasure. Societies that live based on these values ultimately destroy themselves.”

 

I remember once in a time of silent prayer where I was just trying to quiet my mind and be in God’s presence I had a clear vision of a mobile that parents often hang above their child’s crib. The baby looks up and sees all of these objects dangling in front of his or her eyes and these amazing shapes and colors. The objects are all connected. Eventually, the child reaches up and touches one of those objects. Suddenly, the whole mobile is set in motion. In that moment, the child is learning something in his or her brain for the first time, “If I touch one part of this, the whole thing moves.”

 

The deeper we enter in prayer, the more we realize how intertwined and interconnected all of life is . . . the more we realize the way we live matters. It matters to God. It matters to the earth. It matters to all whose lives are affected by the choices we make. The deeper we enter into prayer, the more we realize there is no “me” only “we,” there is no “them” only “us.” As we become present to God’s unconditional love, it transforms the way we are present in the world. In the words of Paul, We begin to celebrate the faith of Jesus; we have the same mindset that was in Christ Jesus.

 

In a new book, Trauma and Grace, Serene Jones suggests 9/11 sent our nation into the equivalent of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) which is define as a deep wound, not only to the body but to spirit and soul and emotion. Its symptoms include numbness, emotional and sometimes physical paralysis, fear, depression and sometimes self-destructive behavior. There is almost incapacity to look beyond yourself, to empathize with others, to live for anything larger than your own survival.

 

One of the things therapists do with PTSD patients is help them remember – help them remember and tell stories that remind them of who they are and who they can be.

 

Maybe that’s why Jesus said, “Remember me.”

 

May we remember and be present to the love that was present in Jesus and may that love heal and transform us that we might be present in the world in a new way . . . that we might join with God in healing and transforming the world.