22. Decisions

The following is my letter to Staff-Parish explaining my decision to delay Candidacy:

11 August 2008

To the members of the State Street Staff-Parish Relations Committee:

Thank you for making time for me in your August meeting. I appreciate the chance to meet with you in preparation for declared candidacy, and the support you have given me in the past as well. However, I’m learning that a large part of any calling is learning to live in God’s time. Though the result is usually something much simpler than I would create for myself, it leaves me scrambling with the plans I build up for myself. I have felt a good deal of “gentle nudging” that this is not the right time for me to pursue candidacy further. Let me attempt to explain further.

When I prepared to visit Hyden, Kentucky with the rest of our Appalachia Service Project team, I expected it to be different than anything I’d ever seen. I expected to fall in love with the people there. I knew I would change, too, but I didn’t know how much! You see, the more I fell in love, the more my viewpoint on ministry changed. First, it was the way I perceived “mission work.” The overcrowded and noisy Estep dwelling was so unlike anything I had ever encountered. Our work, though, was so much less about the church and about doing ministry than it was about forming relationships and becoming a part of the community. Second, I was changed by falling in love with those in poverty rather than simply donating money. When I went on Sunday night home visits, I wondered how they could possibly live like they did. On Friday night, as we prepared to leave, I wondered how I could possibly live like I do. I will never look at poverty in the same way again because it has a face now, and I love the people that belong to those faces.

Our trip to Kentucky taught me how important community is and how important it is to get to know people even if you can’t solve all their problems. It taught me how much more I love sitting down and talking with people than sitting in committee meetings and talking about potential ways to help people. So, I’m working on pruning commitments in my life, so that I can be more intentional about being a part of the Ann Arbor community. I will be attending the University of Michigan this fall, and I want to be able to start fresh. Much of my time in Saginaw was spent wishing that I had more time to do things in the community and more time to not only foster existing relationships but begin new ones. It was always on a to-do list, though, and rarely on a calendar. I’m pruning passionless commitments, and I’m pruning the feeling of needless rush. Certified Candidacy follows close on the heels of Declared Candidacy, and after that, continuing candidacy and meeting after meeting after meeting until eventually ordination. I’m simply not as ready as I thought I was. I have so much more to learn about myself and my approach to ministry, about people in community, and about God’s amazing role in it all.

I still feel called to the ministry of an elder in the United Methodist Church. I still feel God’s careful leading. Yet, I grow each day in the knowledge that God has much more for me to learn as well. I’m taking a year (maybe two or three) away from this process to learn and grow more before I am able to return. Though I may come back with just as many questions, my hope is that I will return with a clearer head. Thank you again for making time for me, and for giving me the space to come back when I’m ready. Blessings for the journey!

In Christ’s Love,

Lizz Martin

21. Keeping up

A usual phenomenon--struggling just to keep up with what's right in front of my face.

I have had an amazing past few weeks, though.

Here's a (not so) small part:

(1) To begin with, the weather has been absolutely gorgeous. Clear, sunny days and weather in the 70's is unheard of for Michigan at this time of the year. We've gone outside many of the days at school, and our language arts class is heading off for our annual writing retreat tomorrow. I am always excited for this, but this may be our first warm -- and sunny -- year!

(2) Our Conference Council on Youth Ministries lead a Confirmands' Rally for about 250 youth from both the West Michigan and Detroit Conferences. I was the chair of the planning committee and put in many late nights getting things together, but every second was worth it. Those who volunteered to help with the rally -- from the praise band at the college and local church, to our youth coordinator, to the amazing CCYM leaders who worked with workshops and worship, to all the attending youth who willingly participated. There were some kinks, and I learned a lot along the way, but I enjoyed it so immensely. God was working in so many awesome ways.

(3) This past weekend I went to a Youth Lay Speaking Weekend in our district, taking the Advanced Class, Lay Speakers Tell Stories-- the course is written by Ray Buckley. As my last time attending as a youth, as well as one of my last times truly being laity (I'll be in the transition this time next year as a certified candidate, God-willing), it meant a lot to me. I enjoyed spending a silly weekend with some older friends and getting a chance to meet the new youth there for basic. We paired up with them as prayer partners and really had some awesome conversations. It got me ready for a week of work-- but alas I'm off for another retreat. I will have mountains by the time I get back on Thursday because...

(4) speaking of work, I have a lot! Finals for my Spanish class are next week. Our group is presenting on women's changing roles in society in Spain from the Civil War there through present. I have an ending narrative to write, severe memorizing to do as the narrator, an evaluation to prepare, and I'm sure, as the week progresses, several other details to attend to. As well, I have a final paper to write for that class on elements of theatre in Todo Sobre Mi Madre (a subject I chose myself and am interested in, but still have no reason to look forward to writing!) I am weeks behind in AP French--thank goodness for an understanding teacher. I have a test to finish, three essays to write, two quizzes, and a discussion board post. I need to gain momentum to finish the course early, as well, since I'm graduating before the end of the course as scheduled. My Japanese course...is well, not being done. Out of 8 lessons (that take me approximately 2 hours each), I've finished exactly one...and maybe a half.

Why is it so much easier to write about work than to do it? I also have books to read and a paper to write for English and a chapbook to put together. But I will get through it, and it will feel good when I do because

I.am.graduating!!!!

(5) In a windfall, I received two jobs for this summer. One, which I have started, is at a cute place called Tropical Smoothie Cafe. The hours are somewhat long, but I love the work, love the people, and definitely love my discounts on the food. I'll also be working at the zoo after the start of their season in May. I am very excited for this summer! It will be busy but a good one.

(6) And the other things filling my time? Various church events, registering for housing and orientation at U of M for next year, working through the Candidacy Process and preparing for the psych assessment that comes next, and trying to find some time to spend with friends and family (particulary my mother -- and Sammy and Ashton whom I haven't seen in a few weeks!) as well as squeezing in an occasional nap or two.

Off to do tomorrow's packing--

Grace and peace!

20. Cain's narrative

Here is a written version of roughly the story I told at the lay speaking training I attended this last weekend. Subject: Storytelling. Contrary to what I would have thought as I was writing it (especially since not even the idea was in conception before arriving), I think I actually did a much better job of telling it without the words in front of me! In fact, I keep trying to remember all that I said to help flesh out the written version. One facilitator told me that she was amazed that I didn't use a single "um." -- I have to say I was amazed at that too. God works in awesome ways!

I. Growing up, I felt an amazing sense of freedom. The world was open to possibility. I would walk for miles in every direction -- sometimes to pass the time and other times as our family searched for new soil to cultivate. And no matter where we walked, there was never an end in sight -- just wide-open spaces that stretched on forever. There was so much possibility in this space. I knew that my brother and I would have children and grandchildren enough to fill this world. Surely, God created us for great things. 

II. Yet as I grew older I started to lose sight of this. The weight of the endless possibilities started to be a load upon my shoulders. I soon began to wonder if somewhere in that wide-open space God had created another family, and if not, why us? Why us with such a great capacity to sin? You see, I began to hear the stories of my parents' exile from the garden of Eden, which means "luxuriance." They were exiled from luxury for their sin, and they did not fit in this new land. This land that had been so open for me, and so full of possibility, had been a source of contention for my father. I loved to work with the land-- smoothing out the rough places, opening up the pinecones and fruits and sliding my fingers inside to take out their seeds, planting seeds deep in the ground, caring for them and watching them grow. When we grew old enough, my brother and I knew we had to choose what to do to maintain our living. It did not make sense that we both would do the work of our father -- both farming and caring for the animals--so we chose to each do what we liked best. For me, I knew automatically. I loved the soil and wanted that to be my work. In part, it was a way for me to make up for my parents' actions. This may be their punishment, but I would make things right again. Abel, my younger brother, chose to shepherd the animals. These were the animals our father had named, and he wanted to carry on that name. And so, here we were-- me striving to rectify the past, and him, striving ahead for our father's attention. 

III. We worked well in this way for many years, side by side providing for our parents, and for our brothers and sisters as they came along. One day, the idea came to Abel that we should give back part to our God. He had provided so much to us, and it seemed only right to give part back. My father loved the idea, and I? I thought it was another attempt for my brother to take the forefront. Our parents' love was not enough -- was not I too providing in equal amount for our welfare. He wanted God's approval as well. I went along with the idea though--how could I not? As I was picking my crops, though, I couldn't help but pause. How does one determine what is the best for God? Is it wrong to want the best for my family? They are here. They are tangible. What I give to God, I cannot give to my family. And so, as I wandered the fields, I picked the second best. I picked a beautiful array -- of fruits and vegetables of every variety and fine wheat and grain that I had watched over all year with gentle care. I was pleased with my work, and I hoped silently that it was enough. I brought my offering first to the altar we had constructed. I hoped my eagerness might erase my doubt. But, alas, Abel arrived with the best of his flock, and he made great show of his sacrifice. Afterward, God commended him, and to me, he said nothing. 

IV. Then, finally, he spoke, but his words were too big, and I did not understand. He said, "Sin's urge is toward you, yet you can be its master." Was it sin to give God second best? What was sin? I had known my parents' sin, but I did not yet know the capacity of my own. I did not understand. 

V. The weight continued to build. Now, I had the possibility for good things so strong upon my shoulders that there was hardly any room for freedom. I wanted to rectify the mistakes of my parents. I wanted to love my brother. I wanted to follow God's words for me. I waited and I wrestled with these things upon my heart, but the load only grew and my heart became to heavy to love anything-- not even myself, for I felt worthless. 

VI. And so, one day, I called for my brother in the fields, and I killed him. And then, I hid from God. 

VII. It was rash, adn the guild was too much to even comprehend the details. Had I truly stabbed him with his own knife? I, who had never hunted? I, whose work was with the gentle care of plants had slain my brother. And I did not know what I was doing. But one thing I knew. Suddenly, that immense weight had been lifted. The pressure had broken from all sides -- for I was in hiding even from myself. And yet, I did not feel free. What had been a sense of purpose, though burdening, had been replaced with the weights of guilt and remorse-- under which I was helpless. 

VIII. And so, God found me in this state, cowering. And as he demanded to know what I had done with my brother, his words were deafening to my ears. They rushed at high speed and stole all else from my mind. Was I my brother's keeper? I did not know, for I could not claim something I had not fulfilled. When God had finished speaking, I was low to the ground. It was my good-bye. For I could no longer work with the soil I loved. The blood of Abel was there now, and nothing was any longer as God had intended. I had violated nature's trust and it had rejected me in turn. I lay low to the ground, and I pleaded with God. I begged him, "At least, Lord, as I am wandering, may one along the road kill me." But that was not to be. I had killed my flesh. His blood shed was not only his own but that of his descendents. God knew I must live with this memory in order to be healed. But I was scared. A life of wandering was not for me -- to leave the famiyl I had provided for? to leave the rich land I had cultivated? I had no idea what was to come or even what I might encounter-- only that I would live through anything. I stood in the still wind, facing East-- even further away from the garden where it had all begun-- wondering that God had marked even me. God had marked even me.

Amen

19. What is God's invitation for us at this season of our lives?

The Rising: Living the Mysteries of Lent, Easter, and Pentecost by Wendy M. Wright. Our church is going through a bible study on Thursday nights with this book right now. It is a good chance for discussion mid-week.

Desert Listening

"Several years ago I was invited to give a Lenten retreat in Wyoming at a thriving university campus Catholic parish. The parish ministers had gone to great lengths to make the Lenten season come alive for their parishioners. Worship services were carefully designed to heighten the Lenten mood. Visually, the church interior proclaimed the seasonal mood. Banners of the traditional Lenten purple (the liturgical color of penance) hung from the ceiling of the church. There were also large earthenware bowls filled with sand decorating the steps leading to the altar. While this in itself is not unusual in denominations that are highly liturgical, this parish high in the mountainous plains of Wyoming had at least one visual and tactile sign that was unique. They had filled the holy water fonts that stand at the doorways to the church with desert sand. Entering the sanctuary it is customary to dip one's fingers in the water and make the sign of the cross. During this year's season that habitual gesture would be arrested in process. One would find one had dipped into the dryness of sand.

"By this hand-dipping gesture I was made keenly aware of the Lenten desert invitation. I was taken back not only to Jesus' wilderness drama but also to the desert ascetics of fourth century Egypt, Palestine, and Syria. For me they are models of discernment. These zealous Christians, convinced that discipleship meant a radical transformation of life, left the "world" with its false values and fled to the desert, there to do battle with the "worldly" demons lodged in their own hearts. Pride, greed, self-aggrandizement, lust for power -- all the false motivations that drive human beings -- were ferreted out and replaced by the spirit of Christ: the spirit of compassion, humility, and purity of heart.

"The key to the transformation of the desert was the ascetic's listening ear. In silence and solitude they cultivated a hearing attuned to catch the voice of God. They learned that going apart from the noisy environment of daily life to the silence of the desert enabled them to perceive deeper levels of noise and silence. In the desert's quiet they discovered the noisiness within, the restless cacophony of voices raging in their hearts. Yet if they persevered further, they found that beneath that was another level of silence, an abyss of stillness that encompassed all that exists. There, in the primal silence within the human heart, the voice of God could be clearly heard." [this last would be an interesting sermon illustration for the story of Elijah on Mount Sinai in 1 Kings 19]

"The patient process of untangling the threads of voices, of settling down to the center was the lifelong work of the desert. It is our work as well. Like the desert ascetics, we must learn the art of inner listening. Where do the many voices within come from? And where do they lead? To self-aggrandizement and judgement of others, or to compassion and reconciliation? Which of the voices is the voice of God? To what am I called? What is God's invitation for me at this season of my life?

"Lent is a time for tuning our ears, for listening carefully, for discerning the texture and quality of our own demons, for attending to God's unceasing, creative plea amidst the noise of cultural pressures, the busyness of life, and our own self-limiting habits. Some of our Lenten discernments may be fairly straightforward. We may have become inattentive in our eating or drinking and need to give our oversatiated bodies a holiday. We may need to curb a smoking habit that endangers the health of those we live with as well as ourselves. We may need to cultivate a more rhythmic pattern of prayer or bring the scriptures into clearer focus in our everyday life. We may need to mend the pieces of a broken relationship. We may need to take some of the time we hoard so tightly for work and lavish it on our children or friends. We may be called to respond to the cry of the poor, to feed the hungry, to shelter the homeless, or to visit the prisoner. All these can rightly be discerned as God's prompting to a freer life.

"But the ongoing process of discernment, which I think is the more subtle invitation of the Lenten season, is not always so straightforward. It involves a radical and risky self-evaluation and a commitment to rethink and rework everything you know you are. God is always calling us out of ourselves, into a more generous freedom, so that we can love and serve ourselves and one another more authentically.

"What does that freedom look like for each of us this season? We might have images in our minds as to what we ideally should be. But perhaps soemtimes the ideal is less important that the real. The spiritual life is not a generic undertaking, despite the fact that it is often characterized as such. Rather, it involves the unique encounter of a particular woman or man in her or his concrete history and circumstances with the God who dared and continues to dare to be incarnate in human form. The spiritual life is never twice the same. Always utterly new, always surpising, the human meeting with God through the discernment of spirits invites us to become listeners to God's voice heard among the multitude of voices crowding the human heart. We must be open to hear the surprising message it may bring." (p. 32-34)

18. Life's List

Learn sign language. Reach proficiency in Spanish. Reach proficiency in many languages--French, Japanese, Russian, German, Chinese, Hebrew, Greek, Korean, Polish, Italian, Portuguese, Arabic, etc! Use them. Learn to play the piano. Read anything and everything I can get my hands on, at least once. Run. Get a gym membership and use it. Donate 10 feet to Locks of Love (multiple donations, of course! I think I'm at about 3 right now). Bake amazingly. Cook well. Sky dive (or bungee jump). Write a book. Maybe publish it. Teach English as a second language. Travel the world, or travel a small part of it. See absolute poverty. Be changed by it. Work to change it. Live in some place I never thought I'd live. Love. Be loved. Get married. Have children. Study the Bible. Go on a road trip. Sleep on the beach. Take a ballroom dancing lesson. Make pottery. Write a letter to the editor. Do yoga. Be on retreat for thirty days. Vote. Walk ten miles (or more). Sew a quilt. Plant a garden. Go white-water rafting. Learn to knit. Be crafty. Set up a computer by myself. Stop biting my nails. Work with an adult literacy program. Sing without caring how it sounds. Dance without caring how I dance. Take an African dance class. Sew an outfit. Work for a non-profit. Be organized, if only for a day. Learn to ride a bike. Learn to ski. Go to France and eat nothing but bread, cheese and pastries. Drink nothing but champagne. Fall in love with a cause, or several. Be changed by loving it and being active in it. Host another exchange student, or several. Give up shopping for a year. Realize how many blessings I have. Keep my friends and family close. Graduate from school, college and seminary. Seek ordination. Live, laugh, love and eat a good deal of dark chocolate and Ben & Jerry's ice cream.

17. Sharing Memories

My grandpa passed away last Monday. The funeral preparations have been made and done with. Family has arrived and gone. Countless food dishes have come and been eaten. Sympathy cards have piled in. Our answering machine has been full. I feel surrounded by love and support; I really do, and it has been an utterly amazing blessing. I know he is at peace, but to be honest, I'm still struggling with his death, and think I will be for a while. He was such a large part of our lives, of my life, especially over these past months, and this is the longest I've ever gone without seeing him, talking to him, or writing to him. I miss his presence. I miss his voice. I miss the twinkle in his eye when he winked.

My grandpa was a teacher--by profession as a woodshop teacher, but foremost as one who was always learning and wanted to spread it to everyone around him. Every new thing he learned was something everyone got to hear at least twice. His causes--collecting pop can tabs for the local chapter of American legion, St. Jude's Children's Hospital, Saginaw Valley State University--were dear to his heart and always on the tip of his tongue. His passions for history and other cultures spread too. He got a black belt at age 66. He took physical fitness and computer classes at the local university. His daily question for me was, "What did you learn today?" It didn't matter whether it was a school day or not.

My grandpa was one of the first who taught me to question. I remember once when I asked him why the "p" in raspberry was silent. After looking it up, he decided it wasn't silent after all--we'd all been wrong! He had me tell everyone I knew, and he spread the word too. Eventually, of course, our supposition was proved false, but I will always remember what it felt like one of the first times I felt like I had been part of making a discovery that no one else had made.

He was stubborn, but so am I (and at least I know I have a legitimate source for it!) He swore, yelled, lashed out, but taught me patience. I think I will always know that I learned how to nurture from him first.

I'm sure there's more to come...

In closing, the words of "You are Mine" that played with Grandpa's pictures during visitation (Italics are mine):

I will come to you in the silence,
I will lift you from all your fear.
You will hear my voice,
I claim you as my choice,
Be still and know I am here.

Do not be afraid, I am with you.
I have called you each by name.
Come and follow me
I will bring you home;
I love you and you are mine.

I am hope for all who are hopeless,
I am eyes for all who long to see.
In the shadows of the night,
I will be your light,
Come and rest in me.

Do not be afraid, I am with you.
I have called you each by name.
Come and follow me
I will bring you home;
I love you and you are mine.

I am strength for all the despairing,
Healing for the ones who dwell in shame
All the blind will see,
The lame will run free,
And all will know my name.

Do not be afraid, I am with you.
I have called you each by name.
Come and follow me
I will bring you home;
I love you and you are mine.

I am the Word that leads all to freedom,
I am the peace the world cannot give.
I will call your name,
Embracing all your pain,
Stand up, now walk, and live!

Do not be afraid, I am with you.
I have called you each by name.
Come and follow me
I will bring you home;
I love you and you are mine.

"Do not be afraid I am with you" played with the pictures of me as a child smiling and laughing with Grandpa.

For someone so active before the rapid onset of dementia, these words seem so fitting, "I will call your name/embracing all your pain/stand up, now walk, and live!"

All cliche aside, God has called Harry E. Martin, Jr. back to life.

Grace & Peace

16. What privileges have you had?

As found at Mary Beth's place. Here is a game developed by Jeanne of Social Class and Quakers, based on the copyrighted exercise developed by Will Barratt, Meagan Cahill, Angie Carlen, Minnette Huck, Drew Lurker, Stacy Ploskonka at Illinois State University.

If you play and post, please acknowledge their copyright.

Bold items are privileges I have had.

Father went to college
Father finished college
Mother went to college
Mother finished college
Have any relative who is an attorney, physician, or professor.
Were the same or higher class than your high school teachers
Had more than 50 books in your childhood home
Had more than 500 books in your childhood home
Were read children's books by a parent
Had lessons of any kind before you turned 18
Had more than two kinds of lessons before you turned 18
The people in the media who dress and talk like me are portrayed positively
Had a credit card with your name on it before you turned 18
Your parents (or a trust) paid for all of your college costs
Went to a private high school
Went to summer camp (sports and church camps)
Had a private tutor before you turned 18
Family vacations involved staying at hotels
Your clothing was all bought new before you turned 18
Your parents bought you a car that was not a hand-me-down from them
There was original art in your house when you were a child it was done by family friends
Had a phone in your room before you turned 18
You and your family lived in a single family house
Your parent(s) owned their own house or apartment before you left home
You had your own room as a child
Participated in an SAT/ACT prep course
Had your own TV in your room in High School
Owned a mutual fund or IRA in High School or College
Flew anywhere on a commercial airline before you turned 16
Went on a cruise with your family
Went on more than one cruise with your family
Your parents took you to museums and art galleries as you grew up
You were unaware of how much heating bills were for your family

15. A Generous Orthodoxy

In this diagram, my largest concern is me, my soul, my personal destiny in heaven, my maturity, and my rewards. Occasionally, after 'winning' people based on personal self-interest, churches can entice people to care a little about the church--but is it any surprise that people 'won to Christ' by self-interst come to the church asking, 'What's in it for me?'

"Is it any surprise that with this understanding of salvation, churches tend to become gatherings of self-interested people who gather for mutual self-interest--constantly treating the church as a purveyor of religious goods and services, constantly shopping and 'trading up' for churches that can 'meet my needs' better? Is it any surprise that they have a mission to the world when most Christians equate 'personal salvation' of individual 'souls' with the ultimate aim of Jesus? Is it any wonder that people feel like victims of a bait and switch when they're lured with personal salvation and then hooked with church commitment and world mission?


"The following diagram shows a radically different alternative:

"In this diagram, Jesus comes with saving love for the world. He creates the church as a missional community to join him in his mission of saving the world. He invites me to be part of this community to experience his saving love and participate in it.

"This missional approach changes everything. In fact, I don't think I realize how much it changes yet because I'm still getting used to it.

"Among other things, it eliminates old dichotomies like 'evangelism' and 'social action.' Both are integrated in expressing saving love for the world. Those who want to become Christians (whether through our proclamation or demonstration), we welcome. Those who don't, we love and serve, joining God in seeking their good, their blessing, their shalom.

"This approach gets rid of distinctions like ministry (what we do in the church) and mission (what we do outside it), since ministry is for mission from the start. For example, I seek to develop virtues not just for my own benefit, but so I can inflict less damage and more blessing on the world. I seek to better understand Scripture not just for my own sake, but so I'll be better equipped to serve God and my neighbors.

"It also gets rid of terms like missionary and mission field, since now every Christian is a missionary and every place is a mission field.

"Perhaps most profound and yet most troublesome, it gets us beyond the us-them thinking and in-grouping and out-grouping that lead to prejudice, exclusion, and ultimately to religious wars. It opens up a third alternative beyond exclusive and universalist religion. Exclusive religion says, 'We're in, and you're out.' Good news for us, bad news for you. Understandably, universalist religion reacts and says, 'Everybody's in!' That's good news for everyone at first blush until you ask, 'Why is there so much injustice then? Why are so many sad, cruel, harassed, and helpless? If everybody's in--is this as good as it gets?' Saying that 'everybody's in' can too easily lead to complacency about injustice here and now and can create a kind of nice, relaxed, magnanimous apathy. This magnanimous apathy may be better than the narrow antipathy often associated with exclusive religion, but I think we need a better alternative.

"Missional Christian faith asserts that Jesus did not come to make some peope saved and others condemned. Jesus did not come to help some people be right while leaving everyone else to be wrong. Jesus did not come to create another exclusive religion--Judaism having been exclusive based on genetics, and Christianity being exclusive based on belief (which can be a tougher requirement than genetics!).

"Missional faith asserts that Jesus came to preach the good news to the kingdom of God to everyone, especially the poor. He came to seek and save the lost. He came on behalf of the sick. He came to save the world. His gospel and therefore the Christian message, is good news for the whole world.

"The idea that the Christian message is universally good news for Christians and non-Christians alike is, to some, unheard of, strange, and perhaps heretical. To me, it has become natural and obvious. Let me explain..."

14. Thoughts

It takes 21 days to make a habit.

It only takes three to break one.

Oasis tonight:

Also, Joel 2:1-2, 12-17 --

-perhaps not so much a literal rending as an opening up to God's will
-Lent is the season of God "wooing" us and seeking to be in relationship with us

G & P!

13. Something to Chew On

I was able to preach this sermon for my final preaching class (I believe it's more formally called "Lay Speakers Deliver Effective Sermons) as well as for the closing commitment service. I felt it went fairly well, but as always with speaking, it's a learning experience--learning myself and my own comfort zones (and how to get out of them) and learning how to be more in tune with God and the message He wants me to speak. I felt I was doing exactly what God wanted me to be doing at that moment, though, and speaking the words He wanted me to speak -- an emotional high to carry through the early week. I hope I never stop feeling this way after preaching.

INTRODUCTION TO SCRIPTURE: Paul writes these words to the people at Corinth. In a flourishing city of approximately 500,000 merchants, sailors, professional gamblers, athletes and freed slaves, the Corinthian Church became a melting pot of the microcosm of which it was a part. Paul writes to encourage them to continue to try to live in harmony and build on their common foundation, although their national, social, economic and religious backgrounds were very different. (paraphrased from Compact Bible Dictionary, written and compiled by Ronald F. Youngblood, F.F. Bruce & R.K. Harrison)

[Read 2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10]

PRAYER: Heavenly Father, may the words of our mouths and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, you who is our rock and our redeemer. Amen

MEDITATION:


“Something to Chew On”

I.

I am the daughter of an amazing cook and baker. Just about anything my mother sets out to make turns out delicious. So, it’s only natural that I’ve grown up to countless questions of my own cooking abilities.

“Have you learned how to make your mom’s macaroni and cheese yet?”

“Oh, that pie was just delicious. What kind do you make?”

“Did you help your mother make this amazing soup?”

Well, I can tell you that I’ve set out more times than one to imitate her style—to create that rich, chocolate pudding or achieve the perfect consistency of broth in soup—but I look at her recipes and I see these cryptic directions (they may sound familiar to you)—“a pinch of salt,” “a sprinkle each of cinnamon and allspice”, “a few shakes of this and that.”

I stare transfixed at the page, wondering just how to measure a sprinkle or a shake. What if my “pinch” is bigger than my mom’s? What if it’s too small? I turn to my mother for clarification and usually receive another response you may find familiar, “Just do what feels right.”

Friends, I can tell you that I’ve had more flat cookies, crusty brownies, dry macaroni and cheese dishes, overcooked noodles and soupy rice than the rest. I’ve missed more cups of flour and sugar, more eggs. I’ve neglected to let my biscuits rise all the way. I’ve left the eggs out of pumpkin pie.

But, I can tell you that each time I have forgotten these things, I have learned how important it is that these ingredients are there. Each time I’ve overcooked pasta, I’ve learned just how to know when it’s the right time to take the heat off.

I still have this example I’m following, but I’m learning that in the absence of set recipes, I’m beginning to learn for myself how to create something new rather than simply follow what has already been done.

II.

Paul says, speaking to the Corinthians, “Here we are, then, speaking for Christ, as though God himself were making his appeal through us.” (2 Corinthians 5:20) We have this message to share, this “treasure in clay jars”, as we’ve heard before. ( 2 Corinthians 4:7). But God didn’t hand down the message typed in MLA format with 1-inch margins. God sent the commandments, yes. God sent the prophets. God even sent his son. We believe that God continues to speak through the Holy Spirit.

And yet, when Paul says again in the text, “This is the hour to receive God’s favor; today is the day to be saved!” I know that I begin to wonder, “Where is this message we’re supposed to give? What role do we have in all of this?”

I am just another speaker, another voice in the cacophony of others, but I believe that God is calling us to this: to stop waiting for an exact recipe, perhaps to stop trying to pass on a recipe of leadership to the next leaders following us. If God was our mothers, he would tell us to stop trying so hard to determine what the right sized sprinkle or pinch is and just do what feels right.

Just do what feels right? I can hear it now, “But that would be too hard. We need guidelines. We need order. We can’t just have chaos...and if we just do what “feels right” ...we might just come up with something NEW.”

Are you hearing what I’m hearing?

Friends, we will never be without guidelines and order. The last time I checked, we still had this book. (hold up Bible) I’m going to guess that those of you seated here today have seen this before.

Our challenge is to make this book come alive for those around us. Are we up to the challenge?

III.

In her book, Mudhouse Sabbath, Lauren F. Winner captures the words of a sixth century theologian, Julianus Pomerius, encouraging readers to break a fast and “unbend one’s self” in order to practice hospitality. She shares later, “I understand why he had spoken of hospitality as unbending one’s self. The irony is that the unbending requires inviting my neighbors into the very places where I am most bent.” (pp. 46 and 53)

IV.

I know that if I wait until any place I live is “clean enough” for visitors, I’m going to be waiting a long time. I know too, and perhaps more importantly, that if I’m waiting for perfection before I allow people into the “bent” and just plain rusted areas of my life, I’m going to be waiting a long while. In fact, I just might not have to do it at all!

In allowing people into the imperfect areas of our lives, we allow two things. First, we allow that they may see that leadership and ministry is not about perfection. And, seeing imperfect leaders, they may see where they are able to lead too.

Second, when we allow people to see our faults, we are opening ourselves up to those same areas that need change. Where do we need reconciliation? Where might we need comfort?

When we allow this honesty, we open ourselves up for God’s help.

V.

A pastor tells of his own encounter with the need for this reconciliation. In preparing for Ash Wednesday, his church had entered into a rigorous debate regarding the imposition of ashes at the Ash Wednesday service.

“Some people in the congregation argued against the practice claiming that it could promote holier-than-thou attitudes amongst the faithfully smudged. Others worried that the aftermath of the ritual would look a bit too much like a public display of piety the kind that the Gospel of Matthew cautions us about. Objecting, still others claimed that they found it to be a powerful way to grapple with mortality, to participate in a sign of humility, to mark the beginning of Lent.

“What was Ash Wednesday, after all, without some soot on one's brow? Attempting to mediate, the pastor suggested a compromise. Set it up, he declared, so that individuals could decide. If people wanted ashes, they could mark themselves.

“So when it came time for the service, a liturgy which also included the Lord's Supper, the pastor stood and explained that worshippers were to come forward for the sacrament. First they would receive the wafer—‘Body of Christ.’ Next they would receive the wine—‘Blood of Christ.’ Then, the pastor gestured to an elder who was standing there holding a small saucer of ashes. If the worshippers so desired, they could self-impose ashes. So, the people stood and came. . . Decently and in order, except for one small problem, the pastor had failed to explain the meaning of a key liturgical term ‘impose.’

“He came to this realization when the first man to approach received a wafer, dipped it in wine, then turned, and dunked his sodden disk in the plate of ashes, before eating it.

“So startled was the congregation by this strange act of penitence that they were compelled to rethink their liturgy. . . Never again, remarked the pastor, will I suggest that people ‘self-impose.’ But, I wonder, as unpalatable as it might seem, if this man in tasting and swallowing ashes might actually be telling us something important about this day and this season.

“So many of us, still think of Lent as a time to give something up, a season to deny ourselves chocolate for forty days. . . as if that will somehow cultivate spiritual maturity. In eating ashes, this man may provide us with a different perspective on Lent. . . Perhaps it is not a season to give up common pleasures. Perhaps it is a time for us chew on our mortality.” (http://home.netcom.com/~jealsup/ash6e.html)

VI.

The reteller of the story continues with an explanation that “For Paul, righteousness is a human possibility.” Though we may be faced with denial and a knowledge that “we will all, eventually, fall down,” the apostle Paul “pushes us to attempt reconciling acts and rest affirmed in the integrity of God. All this because we have been marked. Not by a sign that we can put on ourselves, for really we cannot self-impose our identity.”

“So we mark each other here not merely with a thumbprint of grit hoping to commemorate our mortality, but we smear a cross on each other's foreheads to remind us that we are marked by another.

“The one who marks us all that we might no longer be slaves to mortality, but free to be God's righteousness in this world.” (see above source)

VII.

So marked, where does our hesitation lie? The wall has been beaten down. If we are no longer bound by our mortality and sin, then we have free reign to answer God’s calling on our lives.

VIII.

I would like to share The Message translation of this passage with you which shares a direct plea from Paul to the church at Corinth. Perhaps it will help to have it in contemporary language.

He writes,

“Companions as we are in this work with you, we beg you, please don’t squander one bit of this marvelous life God has given us. God reminds us, “I heard your call in the nick of time; The day you needed me, I was there to help.” Well, now is the right time to listen, the day to be helped. Don’t put it off; don’t frustrate God’s work by showing up late, throwing a question mark over everything we’re doing. Our work as God’s servants gets validated—or not—in the details. People are watching us as we stay at our post, alertly, unswervingly...in hard times, tough times, bad times; when we’re beaten up, jailed, and mobbed; working hard, working late, working without eating; with pure heart, clear head, steady hand; in gentleness, holiness, and honest love; when we’re telling the truth, and when God’s showing his power; when we’re doing our best setting things right; when we’re praised, and when we’re blamed; slandered, and honored; true to our word, though distrusted; ignored by the world, but recognized by God; terrifically alive, though rumored to be dead; beaten within an inch of our lives, but refusing to die; immersed in tears, yet always filled with deep joy; living on handouts, yet enriching many, having nothing, having it all.

“Dear, dear Corinthians, I can’t tell you how much I long for you to enter this wide-open, spacious life. We didn’t fence you in. The smallness you feel comes from within you. Your lives aren’t small, but you’re living them in a small way. I’m speaking as plainly as I can and with great affection. Open up your lives. Live openly and expansively!”

IX.

Are we ready?
Are we ready to open up our lives and live fully in “this wide-open, spacious life”?
God is calling, “Are we ready?”
I know I am.
Are you?

Amen

12. The things that keep me up at night

My Closet: Old Navy"Made for you in Cambodia"Aeropostale"Made in Pakistan"The Gap"Made in Vietnam"Express"Made in Hong Kong"The Gap"Made in Turkey"The Gap"Made in India"The Gap"Made in Philippines"The Gap"Made in Northern Mariana Islands"Old Navy"Made in El Salvador"Alia (bought at Goodwill--does second-hand labor abuse make it any less?)"Made in Indonesia"The list goes on, and I struggle to find anything made in the United States. It begs the question--what do we do to erase the contradiction between our faithful beliefs in serving the poor when our clothes remind us that we continually let the poor serve us?