After spending 40 days blogging on religious/spiritual/theological matters, I have discovered that I miss doing it. Rather than continue this blog, which served a particular purpose, I've created a new blog. Those of you who have been following this one, I hope you might come over to the new one. you can find it at:
http://crumbsatthefeast.blogspot.com/
I've also decided that I will spend the rest of the Easter season not blogging. (Seems fair after lent, eh?) So while there's nothing up at the above site besides the name, expect some activity around Pentecost. Do not, however, expect an entry every day. Lent is lent, and no need to inflict it on everyone year 'round. :)
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Sunday
A reading from the Gospel of Mark, the 16th chapter, verses 1-8
(NRSV)
When the sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint him. 2And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. 3They had been saying to one another, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?” 4When they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back. 5As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed. 6But he said to them, “Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. 7But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.” 8So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Saturday
If you've lost anyone close, really close to you---a person who crosses your mind several times a day with thoughts like, "I'll have to tell ______ about this"---you know the feeling after the funeral.
What next?
How next?
It can be that way with any loss. Or victory, for that matter. Sometimes there's not much difference between the two. A new absence, a new presence---both bring a change in your life. The old has passed away. All things are new.
But right after the funeral, right after the final goodbyes, the new is not so wonderful. Old patterns, old normal is gone. We just can't see how the next day will make sense. We can't see . . . . That's just it. We just can't see.
We walk by faith, not by sight.
A surprising new normal is coming.
What next?
How next?
It can be that way with any loss. Or victory, for that matter. Sometimes there's not much difference between the two. A new absence, a new presence---both bring a change in your life. The old has passed away. All things are new.
But right after the funeral, right after the final goodbyes, the new is not so wonderful. Old patterns, old normal is gone. We just can't see how the next day will make sense. We can't see . . . . That's just it. We just can't see.
We walk by faith, not by sight.
A surprising new normal is coming.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Friday
It is finished. A lifetime, a ministry, an attempt to tell something of God's love, mercy, and grace. Take up my cross and follow? Are you kidding me? Look where it gets you. Isn't there another way?
When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die. Dietrich Bonhoeffer. He knew what he was talking about, I guess.
What does it mean to die to yourself? What does it mean to give your life for another?
Abba Poemen said, "When you hear someone complaining and you struggle with yourself and do not answer him back with complaints; when you are hurt and bear it patiently, not looking for revenge; then you are laying down your life for your neighbor."
I take this stuff seriously. It mostly paralyzes me, but I take it seriously.
I sometimes wonder what it would look like for the church to die. What would it look like if the corporate church were to put on the mind of Christ who, though he was in the form of God, did not take equality with God as something to be grasped at but emptied himself, taking on the form of a slave. What if the church sold all its buildings and furniture and real estate, gave it to the poor, and followed Jesus to the cross? It doesn't even seem possible, does it? Because all those buildings and furniture and real estate are useful. They can be used to further the work of God. They can also become the whole reason for the church existing. So much goes into the upkeep of the physical plant. So much of the church's resources go into self-preservation and its sometimes hard to see the emptying out.
But, as we were told to sing years ago, we are the church. And I'm not so good at emptying myself. I don't personally know anyone who is. It's no wonder that collectively we fail to do it as well.
But Christ calls us, and there is dying involved in the call. Dying to self. To put others before us takes a little out of us, is a small death. To give to charity when you want some shiny new toy is another death. To help someone on the side of the road when we're in a hurry to get somewhere, that's a little death. We might manage those. Sometimes. It makes small differences.
I heard someone say recently---I can't recall where---that death is a miracle. I can go along with that. It seems unnatural to stop breathing. It seems unlikely that it'll happen to us. It's hard to believe.
But there's something in our faith that speaks of death as a choice. Not as a suicidal thing, not as a killing sort of thing, but as a sacrificial sort of thing. Love takes something out of you. It is also sustaining and rejuvenating, but let's not fool ourselves, it also takes something.
There is an argument to be had as to where or not Jesus went willingly to the cross, but I'm not interested in that argument, not tonight. What I think is more interesting is that Jesus made choices that he had to have known would make powerful people angry. He did this even though he knew it could cost him his life. He taught, healed, helped even when he knew it would rub people the wrong way. And as much as I trust in the resurrection, I have to say---I'm often quite afraid to do that. I'm not willing to put myself out there in the same way that Jesus did.
I'm not willing to empty myself. Not often. Hardly every.
Jesus ended up on the cross---what a failure! I love the business books that speak of success in terms of how Jesus became a success. They read a different Bible than I do. Jesus did what was right, did everything right, and still ended up on a cross, a victim of a state sanctioned execution.
I'm not willing to be that big of a failure. I'm afraid of dying that big a death.
But that's our story today. Follow Jesus, get a cross. Follow Jesus---he calls you to die. Follow Jesus and learn to not hold grudges, to forgive, to take no revenge.
"Teach me to live that I may dread the grave as little as my bed.
Teach me to die that so I may rise glorious at the awesome day."
This is serious stuff. This is deathly serious stuff. And, to bring it around to the supposed topic of this blog, it bothers me that all sides of the argument around GLBT stuff (or just about any argument within a church, for that matter) are defending themselves, speaking ill of othe other side, not willing to die for the other. I'm in the thick of that. I'm not entirely sure how to die to myself in this argument. I'm not sure how to give my life for someone with whom I fundamentally disagree.
God, save us by your grace. We're certainly not going to get saved by works here.
Follow Jesus. Take up a cross and follow Jesus. Be willing to do what Jesus did, even though you know it will create powerful enemies. it will get ugly, maybe even bloody, and it'll likely be your own blood.
It was Jesus's own blood. And after all of it was done, Jesus gave up his spirit and said, "It is finished."
But in each ending, there is a beginning . . .
When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die. Dietrich Bonhoeffer. He knew what he was talking about, I guess.
What does it mean to die to yourself? What does it mean to give your life for another?
Abba Poemen said, "When you hear someone complaining and you struggle with yourself and do not answer him back with complaints; when you are hurt and bear it patiently, not looking for revenge; then you are laying down your life for your neighbor."
I take this stuff seriously. It mostly paralyzes me, but I take it seriously.
I sometimes wonder what it would look like for the church to die. What would it look like if the corporate church were to put on the mind of Christ who, though he was in the form of God, did not take equality with God as something to be grasped at but emptied himself, taking on the form of a slave. What if the church sold all its buildings and furniture and real estate, gave it to the poor, and followed Jesus to the cross? It doesn't even seem possible, does it? Because all those buildings and furniture and real estate are useful. They can be used to further the work of God. They can also become the whole reason for the church existing. So much goes into the upkeep of the physical plant. So much of the church's resources go into self-preservation and its sometimes hard to see the emptying out.
But, as we were told to sing years ago, we are the church. And I'm not so good at emptying myself. I don't personally know anyone who is. It's no wonder that collectively we fail to do it as well.
But Christ calls us, and there is dying involved in the call. Dying to self. To put others before us takes a little out of us, is a small death. To give to charity when you want some shiny new toy is another death. To help someone on the side of the road when we're in a hurry to get somewhere, that's a little death. We might manage those. Sometimes. It makes small differences.
I heard someone say recently---I can't recall where---that death is a miracle. I can go along with that. It seems unnatural to stop breathing. It seems unlikely that it'll happen to us. It's hard to believe.
But there's something in our faith that speaks of death as a choice. Not as a suicidal thing, not as a killing sort of thing, but as a sacrificial sort of thing. Love takes something out of you. It is also sustaining and rejuvenating, but let's not fool ourselves, it also takes something.
There is an argument to be had as to where or not Jesus went willingly to the cross, but I'm not interested in that argument, not tonight. What I think is more interesting is that Jesus made choices that he had to have known would make powerful people angry. He did this even though he knew it could cost him his life. He taught, healed, helped even when he knew it would rub people the wrong way. And as much as I trust in the resurrection, I have to say---I'm often quite afraid to do that. I'm not willing to put myself out there in the same way that Jesus did.
I'm not willing to empty myself. Not often. Hardly every.
Jesus ended up on the cross---what a failure! I love the business books that speak of success in terms of how Jesus became a success. They read a different Bible than I do. Jesus did what was right, did everything right, and still ended up on a cross, a victim of a state sanctioned execution.
I'm not willing to be that big of a failure. I'm afraid of dying that big a death.
But that's our story today. Follow Jesus, get a cross. Follow Jesus---he calls you to die. Follow Jesus and learn to not hold grudges, to forgive, to take no revenge.
"Teach me to live that I may dread the grave as little as my bed.
Teach me to die that so I may rise glorious at the awesome day."
This is serious stuff. This is deathly serious stuff. And, to bring it around to the supposed topic of this blog, it bothers me that all sides of the argument around GLBT stuff (or just about any argument within a church, for that matter) are defending themselves, speaking ill of othe other side, not willing to die for the other. I'm in the thick of that. I'm not entirely sure how to die to myself in this argument. I'm not sure how to give my life for someone with whom I fundamentally disagree.
God, save us by your grace. We're certainly not going to get saved by works here.
Follow Jesus. Take up a cross and follow Jesus. Be willing to do what Jesus did, even though you know it will create powerful enemies. it will get ugly, maybe even bloody, and it'll likely be your own blood.
It was Jesus's own blood. And after all of it was done, Jesus gave up his spirit and said, "It is finished."
But in each ending, there is a beginning . . .
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Thursday
Peter, Peter . . . so zealous and so mercurial. I know what you were thinking. If you reveal what you know, you'll be arrested, too and that won't help anyone. I bet Jesus even knew that, even understood that. Jesus probably forgave that even as it was happening.
I'll tell you I go to church and then almost apologize. You know how those people are that go to church. And you understand, I'm not that type of church-goer, okay? I mean, if they think I'm that kind of Jesus follower, that won't help evangelism---it's important to know that there are many kinds of people who call Jesus "Lord," right? And if I'm a bit embarrassed by my church, or certain factions of it, that's understandable, right? It just does no one any good to always be shouting, "I follow Jesus."
* * * * *
I'll tell you I go to church and then almost apologize. You know how those people are that go to church. And you understand, I'm not that type of church-goer, okay? I mean, if they think I'm that kind of Jesus follower, that won't help evangelism---it's important to know that there are many kinds of people who call Jesus "Lord," right? And if I'm a bit embarrassed by my church, or certain factions of it, that's understandable, right? It just does no one any good to always be shouting, "I follow Jesus."
* * * * *
It sometimes feels like . . . You know, I want to follow Jesus. I find Jesus so compelling, so much like how I wish I could be. Willing to speak truth to power. Willing to trade the facade of power for servanthood. Able to reach out to the undesirables of society and make a difference in their lives. But there's an awful lot of people between me and Jesus at this points. Crowds and crowds, and sometimes I can't see over them to see Jesus. Sometimes there is confusion about where Jesus is leading. "This way," says one person. "No, he went thataway," says another. Some of them are clearly wrong, some are less so. Worst of all, the crowd that is actually following Jesus is sometimes indiscernible from the ones who only think they are. Plants the seed of doubt in my brain as to who I'm actually following.
It sometimes feels like . . . You know, I want to follow Jesus. I find Jesus so compelling, so much like how I wish I could be. Willing to speak truth to power. Willing to trade the facade of power for servanthood. Able to reach out to the undesirables of society and make a difference in their lives. But there's an awful lot of people between me and Jesus at this points. Crowds and crowds, and sometimes I can't see over them to see Jesus. Sometimes there is confusion about where Jesus is leading. "This way," says one person. "No, he went thataway," says another. Some of them are clearly wrong, some are less so. Worst of all, the crowd that is actually following Jesus is sometimes indiscernible from the ones who only think they are. Plants the seed of doubt in my brain as to who I'm actually following.
* * * * *
Peter, I want to shake my head at you, tsk-tsk at you and your unwillingness to speak up for Jesus. I want to berate you for proclaiming your undying allegiance one minute, denying you even know the man a few hours later. But clearly Jesus loved you, even after all the times you got things wrong, even after all the times you missed the point. Jesus loved you enough to know you, really know you, know you well enough to predict exactly what you would do. That is some kind of love. So if I make zealous proclamations one minute and embarrassed apologies the next---could it be that Jesus still loves me, too? Peter, there aren't any of us really worthy of being a role model, except that maybe we might learn the depth and breadth and width of Jesus's love by watching you?
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Wednesday
It's been a busy month here, but I think I can breathe for the Triduum. An article I was assigned is written and with the publisher. A book group that I facilitate at a retirement home was today, so I can let that slip from the forefront of my mind. I have music to still learn for services, but I'm not too stressed about that. I choreographed a foot-washing and the rehearsal went well tonight. I have to carry a huge cross (with two other men) on Friday, but I've done that procession before, too, so nothing to stress about.
Each year, I take the Triduum off from work. I've come to look at it a bit like a religious retreat for which I don't have to travel. I go to all the services my church offers (yes, even the 3-hour 7-last-words service on Friday afternoon). I assist at the Saturday vigil (I savor the chance to read the story of the three young men in the fiery furnace again---perhaps the funniest story in all the Bible and I read it so that people know they can laugh and still learn from scripture). But I also try very hard to take time to breath, be still, RETREAT. I don't slow down well, and although I know it is a busy busy time for clergy everywhere, I take advantage of the chance to stop and think and pray and reflect. It's weeks like this that I'm glad that I didn't just go ahead and get ordained after seminary. Besides being ill-suited for ordained ministry, I would come to resent this time, which is truly my most favorite time of the year.
It's Wednesday in Holy Week and I just realized how . . . not quite right it seems to say I find these days as days to slow down and breathe. Jesus would surely be feeling the heat by now, even as his disciples remain somewhat clueless. Judas, perhaps, has already made his deal, or is on the verge of it, but the rest of the twelve appear unaware. They surely sense some tension, but maybe they just experience it as excitement. Maybe they think this is the time for Jesus to assert his Messiah-dom, to bring in his kingdom, to take back Jerusalem from the Romans. It's all coming to a head and I want to be still and reflect.
Well, that's the benefit of having read ahead in the story, I suppose, the benefit of living in a post-Easter world.
Except, of course, we all live in this space of uncertain expectations, maybe even false expectations. We all wish for some things that just aren't going to materialize. And the excitement we feel? Maybe it's just stress from the people around us who are paying closer attention.
Apply that, as you see fit, to the current situation that's going on in the ELCA.
It's Wednesday in Holy Week. How are you feeling?
Each year, I take the Triduum off from work. I've come to look at it a bit like a religious retreat for which I don't have to travel. I go to all the services my church offers (yes, even the 3-hour 7-last-words service on Friday afternoon). I assist at the Saturday vigil (I savor the chance to read the story of the three young men in the fiery furnace again---perhaps the funniest story in all the Bible and I read it so that people know they can laugh and still learn from scripture). But I also try very hard to take time to breath, be still, RETREAT. I don't slow down well, and although I know it is a busy busy time for clergy everywhere, I take advantage of the chance to stop and think and pray and reflect. It's weeks like this that I'm glad that I didn't just go ahead and get ordained after seminary. Besides being ill-suited for ordained ministry, I would come to resent this time, which is truly my most favorite time of the year.
It's Wednesday in Holy Week and I just realized how . . . not quite right it seems to say I find these days as days to slow down and breathe. Jesus would surely be feeling the heat by now, even as his disciples remain somewhat clueless. Judas, perhaps, has already made his deal, or is on the verge of it, but the rest of the twelve appear unaware. They surely sense some tension, but maybe they just experience it as excitement. Maybe they think this is the time for Jesus to assert his Messiah-dom, to bring in his kingdom, to take back Jerusalem from the Romans. It's all coming to a head and I want to be still and reflect.
Well, that's the benefit of having read ahead in the story, I suppose, the benefit of living in a post-Easter world.
Except, of course, we all live in this space of uncertain expectations, maybe even false expectations. We all wish for some things that just aren't going to materialize. And the excitement we feel? Maybe it's just stress from the people around us who are paying closer attention.
Apply that, as you see fit, to the current situation that's going on in the ELCA.
It's Wednesday in Holy Week. How are you feeling?
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Tuesday
What does one do on a Tuesday? The week is started, no Monday excuses. Maybe the excitement of Sunday is beginning to fade, maybe you're beginning to question your own commitment, maybe you've got a cynical streak that says it was just mass hysteria and you're sorry you were caught up in it. You've spent a lot of chronos waiting for the Messiah, but now you're wondering if this is the kairos.
I'll admit to something: at this point on the timeline, I don't fully believe that the ELCA Churchwide Assembly will pass the documents before them regarding human sexuality. I also can't believe that they'd vote it down. I have faith and doubt in vascillating measures. Well, Frederick Buechner once said that doubt was not the opposite of faith, but a component of it. Yea, verily.
I've spent a lot of chronos waiting for validation from the church. I wonder if that's always been my "problem," the root of my constant involvement at church throughout my life. I want to be told that I'm okay. This goes beyond sexuality. It's probably pathological and deserves some serious couch time.
I'm also waiting for kairos. I have some sense of God's timing, I do. I'm also increasingly aware of passing chronos. Will my chronos intersect with the church's kairos? In some ways it's too late.
I speak of the importance of these documents, so that another generation of children doesn't grow up think GLBT folk can't be pastors. This is important, but today I was reflecting on all the ways allowing openly GLBT folk be pastors can affect a young person's vocational choice---it doesn't have to be about becoming a pastor.
Back in college, as a theater major, I took dance classes. I apparently had some ability. I had dance teachers asking me to declare a double major or at least a dance minor. I might have been able to justify a few classes---they fulfilled P.E. credits, at least---but I couldn't see myself pursuing dance. It just had too many perceptions of being gay. I simply could not allow myself to be perceived as gay (not that not pursuing dance stopped anyone from perceiving me as gay!). The church had told me gay was bad and I wanted to please the church. I don't think this was a conscious thought process, but in retrospect, it was there. There's a part of this fear of being gay that led me to give up acting when I did. I kept being around all these gay people. Guilty by association---or just plain guilty. I needed to get away from it. Would it have made a difference if the church had been supportive of gay folk 25 years ago? Would I have stuck with a performing arts career instead of careening around for my adult life, still not having much of any kind of career at 45? Well, we all look for scapegoats, and again, this might require serious couch time, which I'm not likely to pay for at this point. So perhaps we'll never know.
The point being, the right time for me to have been told it's okay to be perceived as gay was 25 years ago. It's too late, at least for the dance career (although I seem to be building a resume as a dance writer---not a bad substitute, but substitute all the same). But it could be just in time for some good Lutheran boy who is in his teens, looking at clothing design, or visual arts, or any number of things that is seen as "too gay" and thinking, "I don't want to be seen as gay." Or a nice Lutheran girl who is being told that working on cars or pursuing sports is a little dyke-y.
This affects everything. And chronos is always running out for someone. When will there be kairos?
It's Tuesday and there are doubts and the euphoria is passing and there are rumblings about sinister plans afoot. On Tuesday, it's difficult to know what to think with any real conviction.
I'll admit to something: at this point on the timeline, I don't fully believe that the ELCA Churchwide Assembly will pass the documents before them regarding human sexuality. I also can't believe that they'd vote it down. I have faith and doubt in vascillating measures. Well, Frederick Buechner once said that doubt was not the opposite of faith, but a component of it. Yea, verily.
I've spent a lot of chronos waiting for validation from the church. I wonder if that's always been my "problem," the root of my constant involvement at church throughout my life. I want to be told that I'm okay. This goes beyond sexuality. It's probably pathological and deserves some serious couch time.
I'm also waiting for kairos. I have some sense of God's timing, I do. I'm also increasingly aware of passing chronos. Will my chronos intersect with the church's kairos? In some ways it's too late.
I speak of the importance of these documents, so that another generation of children doesn't grow up think GLBT folk can't be pastors. This is important, but today I was reflecting on all the ways allowing openly GLBT folk be pastors can affect a young person's vocational choice---it doesn't have to be about becoming a pastor.
Back in college, as a theater major, I took dance classes. I apparently had some ability. I had dance teachers asking me to declare a double major or at least a dance minor. I might have been able to justify a few classes---they fulfilled P.E. credits, at least---but I couldn't see myself pursuing dance. It just had too many perceptions of being gay. I simply could not allow myself to be perceived as gay (not that not pursuing dance stopped anyone from perceiving me as gay!). The church had told me gay was bad and I wanted to please the church. I don't think this was a conscious thought process, but in retrospect, it was there. There's a part of this fear of being gay that led me to give up acting when I did. I kept being around all these gay people. Guilty by association---or just plain guilty. I needed to get away from it. Would it have made a difference if the church had been supportive of gay folk 25 years ago? Would I have stuck with a performing arts career instead of careening around for my adult life, still not having much of any kind of career at 45? Well, we all look for scapegoats, and again, this might require serious couch time, which I'm not likely to pay for at this point. So perhaps we'll never know.
The point being, the right time for me to have been told it's okay to be perceived as gay was 25 years ago. It's too late, at least for the dance career (although I seem to be building a resume as a dance writer---not a bad substitute, but substitute all the same). But it could be just in time for some good Lutheran boy who is in his teens, looking at clothing design, or visual arts, or any number of things that is seen as "too gay" and thinking, "I don't want to be seen as gay." Or a nice Lutheran girl who is being told that working on cars or pursuing sports is a little dyke-y.
This affects everything. And chronos is always running out for someone. When will there be kairos?
It's Tuesday and there are doubts and the euphoria is passing and there are rumblings about sinister plans afoot. On Tuesday, it's difficult to know what to think with any real conviction.
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