It's not just about the camel dance

What Happened in The Place You May or May Not Know the Way To

2008-06-29T16:23:00.002-04:00

This past week was quite an eventful one in the life of the church. Here at Covenant we had a successful VBS program with over 60 kids and tons of adult and teenaged volunteers. In San Jose, California, the 218th General Assembly met to discern God’s will for the church. The secular press has picked up on one of the issues discussed – the proposed removal of G-6.0106b (the “fidelity and chastity” amendment) and replace it with a new Amendment B, one which ties ordination decisions more closely to assent to the ordination vows currently in the church’s Book of Order without singling out a sexual conduct standard.

While that proposal will certainly be discussed, debated, and hopefully God’s will discerned in the coming weeks and months, the one hot topic issue the press picked up is certainly not the only thing that happened at G.A. Here are a few highlights. The Assembly:
• Along with the new moderator, Bruce Reyes-Chow, elected a new Stated Clerk, Gradye Parsons (the previous associate stated clerk)
• Initiated a process to revise the Heidelberg Catechism (one of the confessions which is a part of our constitution) based on concerns about translation mistakes
• Received a report that the ‘Mission Initiative: Joining Hearts and Hands’ (an initiative to renew the church for mission) had raised over $33 million of the $40 million goal
• Rejected an overture (which originated from Shenandoah Presbytery) to create a fifth special offering to fund mission personnel
If you’re interested in learning more, check out the denomination’s website, www.pcusa.org/ga218.

Just as we have been grateful for the hard work of those who made our own week at church a success, let us be thankful for the efforts, time, and faith offered by the commissioners and advisory delegates.

Amy
http://revamy.blogspot.com

brc4mod

2008-06-23T13:25:00.002-04:00

As I mentioned in worship yesterday, our General Assembly has elected a new moderator - Bruce Reyes-Chow. I for one am thrilled that he has been elected and I can't wait to see what the next two years bring.

If you're interested in learning more about him, in following his journey, you can! Check out his blog.

As the kids say, woot!

an awesome amusement park adventure

2008-06-14T13:35:00.002-04:00

This past Thursday 13 youth, 3 parents, and 1 me gathered at 7am in the church parking lot and headed over the mountain and kept going East until we arrived at Busch Gardens in Williamsburg. We spent the whole day there, getting back to Staunton a little before 10pm. Quite a busy, crazy day.

And quite a wonderful day. I'm not one for riding the rides (my motion sickness really puts a damper on that) but I loved being around this great group of young people who were great with each other and with the old folks (that includes me) who were hangers on.

I've said before that the youth of our church inspire me and warm my heart and it's true. It's not just the big moments but little ones like those I experienced on Thursday. The kids laughing with each other, making sure no one gets left behind, even offering to carry bags for those adult-types.

Yes, the trip was long, yes, I got a little sunburn on my nose, and yes, I spent most of the day sitting, waiting for everyone else while they rode the rides. But you know, I wouldn't trade that day for much of anything.

Kings and Queens of the Bible: Saul

2008-05-31T22:12:00.002-04:00

Text: I Samuel 10:17-24, Romans 13:1-7

There have been some good ones; there have been some bad ones; there have been some downright ugly ones. The kings and queens who sprinkle our holy scriptures with stories of pomp and circumstance and brilliant moments which become the source for national pride are the same people who color the Bible with tales of betrayal, murder, adultery, and more. For almost five hundred years, Israel and then Israel and Judah when the one kingdom became two, was ruled by kings and queens who had some high points but also had quite a few low moments.

This summer John and I will explore with you some of the rich history and powerful personalities of royalty in the Bible. Today we begin a sermon series entitled “King and Queens of the Bible: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.” This morning we start at the very beginning – which as I’ve heard tell is a very good place to start.

The first king who ruled over the kingdom of Israel was a man named Saul. Before Saul became king, Israel wasn’t so much a kingdom as it was a tribal confederacy (getting together for the occasional potluck or to fight off a new enemy). When the people needed a leader to fight battles or solve some problem, God would raise up a person called a judge. These judges came and went and no leadership roles were passed down by birth; all were chosen particularly by God.

This system seemed to work pretty well but something happened during the time of Samuel – the prophet, judge, and priest who had been dedicated to God at an early age by his mother Hannah. The people of Israel came up to Samuel and demanded a king. They looked around the nations around them, saw what they deemed security in the dynasty of a king, and wanted that. They wanted what these other nations had – a king to govern them, to fight for them. They coveted their neighbors’ government.

They coveted, and even though Samuel warned them – that a king would take their harvest, their property, and even their children, that they would cry out to God for relief from the bitterness the king would bring, that they really ought to be careful what they wish for – the people cried out for a king.

And God gave them one. Ready or not, here he comes.

The first king of Israel is a king appointed by God – yes – but a king who is the embodied symbol of the people’s rejection of God. Saul is king because God appointed him king and yet God sees Godself as rejected by the people through this appointment of a king. The people would rather have someone they can see sitting on a throne than this eternal, mysterious, all-knowing deity as their one unifying and constant leader. How do we understand this beginning? Are kings and queens true servants of God or are they the people God finds Godself stuck working with? The scriptures never give us a straight answer on these questions; they have us live in the tension.

The tension can be felt in Saul’s own call story. Before the story we read this morning, Saul has met Samuel. Saul had gone and lost his father’s donkeys. He searched high and he searched low, but could not find them. So, he had the bright idea to seek out a seer who could help him locate the precious livestock lest he feel the wrath of daddy. This seer was Samuel. Samuel had been told by the Lord that a man would come to him from the land of Benjamin and this man was the one Samuel would anoint as king. When Saul approached Samuel’s gate, the Lord made it clear that this man was the one. With just the two men—Saul who would be king and Samuel who never wanted to see a king over Israel—the prophet anointed the Benjaminite as ruler over the people Israel.

A noble enough beginning for the monarchy in Israel. Much more noble than the story we read. Much more noble than the future king of Israel hiding from his fate behind a bunch of luggage. When Samuel solidifies God’s choosing of Saul via the old-fashioned and very public method of lots, this future king, who stands head and shoulders above everyone else, is nowhere to be seen.

It’s almost as if God is saying, “You wanted a king, Israel? Well here he is – he looks very kingly, if you can get a look at him, if he’s not too busy hiding.”

The story of Saul’s rule continues to reflect the tension between understanding the monarchy as a good thing or a bad thing or even, perhaps, an ugly thing. Saul indeed does what the people wanted him to do. He fights their enemies and he is triumphant. This man who we met hiding behind baggage is brave enough to face down armies of his people’s enemies, risk life and limb for a newly founded kingdom.

But this man who shows his worth on the battlefield is perhaps a little too interested in his own worth. Twice Saul rejects the commandment of the Lord not out of lust or fear or doubt – but out of desire to solidify his own political glory.

At one point, right before a big battle, Saul uses the ritual of offering prayers and sacrifices to God not out of love for God, but out of concern that the people who were getting antsy for the proper priest—Samuel—to show up would slip away. Very politically savvy, this Saul, using important ritual and meaning to keep his constitutions interest. Very savvy but not very faithful.

The second offense of Saul’s was the one that sealed his unfortunate fate. Saul was told by God to completely defeat the Amalekites, which meant no one or thing would be left. No women or children, no elderly, no young men, no kings. A harsh command to our ears, but Saul’s instructions nonetheless. Saul defeats this people, destroys them completely – except for their king and the best of their livestock and property. He didn’t save women or children – those were considered to be useless to him. But anything that Saul might be able to use for his own glory was kept.

Saul disobeyed God not out of concern for the Amalekites but out of concern for his political status. Holding the king of a defeated peoples meant he held a pretty good card up his sleeve. Some leverage or political weight he could throw around with other enemies or perhaps the allies of the Amalekites. By keeping the king of the Amalekites, Saul did a smart political thing. But again, he did not do the faithful thing. Saul focused on his glory and not on the Glory of Israel – not on God.

This is the last straw for God who pulls support from Saul – God’s own anointed king – and promises to back another for king.

Saul’s rule never runs smoothly again. He begins to grow restless, mad one might say, and once David, the young harp-playing, slingshot wielding shepherd boy enters the scene, it’s all over. Everyone, from Saul’s own children to God, likes David better.

Saul’s reign as king and his life end twenty years after he was found hiding among the baggage. Saul is defeated in battle and rather than face capture—rather than be in a position like the Amalekite king he had captured years ago—he commits suicide.

Saul’s reign is the inauspicious beginning of the Israelite monarchy. A monarchy that can never seem to decide if it’s a system that will work with God and for God or against God and for itself.

The Romans text we read this morning can be read as suggesting that all government—including Saul’s—is put in place by God and works for the good of the people. What a wonderful thought – that the authorities who are in place truly are God’s servants for our good. Yet you and I know that governments and leaders are not always looking out for the people and not always serving the goodness of God. So when a government brings about ill instead of good, should we really just sit back and say “one must be subject?” Is that what God would really want?

No matter how good a person may be when they enter office, he or she is still a human being and still subject to the flaws of humanity. Saul was chosen by God to be king and still proved himself to be a sinful man.

Perhaps one of God’s concerns about kings and queens versus judges was that they were permanent, and traditionally passing the power down the bloodlines. And power, as we have heard and as we have seen in Saul, corrupts. No matter how well-meaning, no matter how seemingly ideal, every authority on earth is still of this earth, still fallible.

The story of the first king over Israel is a reminder to all of us that no leader is as true and good as God. God is the constant, not us. God is eternally good and faithful, not us. While yes, we can bring good, and yes authorities, kings and queens, leaders, can indeed be servants of the people, they are not God. They are not the ones we pledge eternal devotion to, the ones we swear our ultimate allegiance to. For even those called by God – like Saul – can turn away from God’s desires, from God’s glory and to their own.

In this time as much as any other, we need to be aware that no matter what leader may catch our fancy, no matter how fervently we support a candidate for office, it is not a human being who should hold our ultimate support – but God. The stories of the kings and queens of the Bible are exceptionally varied. Some are what we would call good, some bad, and some perfectly unpleasant. God can work through all—that’s what God does—but none are above God or beyond God, no matter what some of them, and some of us, may think.

It is perfectly appropriate to look to an earthly leader to guide us, to defend us, to serve the greater good. We should find leaders that inspire us, who we want to share our dreams and hopes with. We should become excited by those who seem to stand head and shoulders above us all. We should not, however, look for that earthly leader to be anything more than that – of this earth. We have a ruler in heaven, a king of kings, one is our alpha and omega, one who will always seek good things for us, always watch over us, always be true to us. Praise be to our God, our ruler, our guide, our guard. Long live this king. Amen.

the ties that bind

2008-05-25T17:32:00.002-04:00

I was listening to NPR today (while working on a new pasttime, Sudoku) and heard a piece about a mother and son who had been torn apart be the war in Iraq. The son serves in the special forces in the Army and the mother has been and still is an activist for peace. Their relationship became strained over politics and worldview, both struggling to understand the other.

And then poetry brought them back together. The mom had written poetry reflective of her concerns for her son, her love for her son, her concern for the world. In reading her poetry and in sharing that poetry with her son, the two came to understand one another, became close once again.

Reconcilation can happen if we take the time to really understand one another, why we think the way we think, feel the way we feel. This family found reconcilation through poetry and vulnerablity.

One of Francis Richey's poems.
"Kill School."

That was the summer he rappelled
down mountains on rope
that from a distance looked thin
as the dragline of a spider,
barely visible, the tension
he descended
into the made-up
state of Pineland
with soldiers from his class.
They started with a rabbit,
and since my son was the only one
who'd never hunted,
he went first. He described it:
moonlight, the softness
of fur, another pulse
against his chest.
The trainer showed him
how to rock the rabbit
like a baby in his arms,
faster and faster,
until every sinew surrendered
and he smashed its head into a tree.
They make a little squeaking sound,
he said. They cry.
He drove as he told me:
You said you wanted to know.
I didn't ask how he felt.
Maybe I should have,
but I was biting
off the skin from my lips,
looking out
beyond the glittering line
of traffic flying
past us in the dark.

Truth Is

2008-04-28T15:00:00.002-04:00

Texts: Acts 8:5-8, 14-17; John 14:15-21

When I was a child, my mother and I would have “big girl outings” where we would leave my pesky younger siblings behind and do things—just the two of us. Usually these outings were chores in disguise, but I didn’t mind. One of our best (and most frequent) outings was to the grocery store. We’d get a big cart and I’d help pile in food. The best part of our trip was when we were checking out. I’d bug my mom about letting me have a candy bar or some other treat the grocery store managers has brilliantly put on display for all the little kids to bother their parents about.

During the really long lines, when I’d gotten tired of whining to my mother, I would read the headlines on the magazines and newspapers that sat next to the longed-for candy. With the exception of the occasional “Nevada Woman Gives Birth to Alien Baby” I believed what these headlines had to say. I took them as truth. Because that’s where you could find truth – in the headlines of newspapers and magazines at your local grocery store check out line. Nothing you read – alien baby aside – was false. It certainly wasn’t just gossip or an interpretation of facts – it was true.

As we get older, we start to question whether or not these sources of information really are true. We question, we doubt, we wonder what is truth?

Do a basic Google search on truth and you’ll come up with several websites devoted to the truth about different things: the truth about Splenda, the truth about hybrid cars, the truth about Mohammad, the truth about the Da Vinci Code, the truth about the church... Usually theses truths are sensational, damaging, and in your face.

Truth is something we throw around rather easily. In this post-modern age when we look at the world in vibrant colors, not just a simple black and white, the concept of truth has been challenged. With so many claims on truth, so many interpretations on what it may be, if there even is such a thing as truth, we are often left wondering like Pilate - what is truth?

Many have wondered about truth, from Aristotle and Augustine to Frank Zappa and Bob Dylan. Romantic poet Lord Bryon is well-known for saying “Truth is always strange — stranger than fiction.”

The truth about truth is that there is no single term or definition on which your average group of philosophers would agree upon.

While philosophers may not be able to agree and our pop culture may confuse us about what it is, you and I can gather together and proclaim what truth is.

I am the truth, says Jesus. The one who gathered his disciples in the upper room and spoke those words we heard this morning, this Christ is the truth. We people of faith can look to the Pilates of our world and say “Word Incarnate is Truth Incarnate.” God is truth.

God as truth does not mean that God has been reduced to “facts.” There is no empirical evidence for God. No indisputable facts we can point to and say “see, there is a God and this God is the one we proclaim.” The etymology of the word truth is based in older words that mean “faithfulness, belief.” Though there are no empirical facts, we believe God is. God is and God is truth.

God is truth is not just a claim we Christians make. Other traditions and faiths have made this claim as well. What is unique about what we claim is that this God who is truth is not only Creator, but also known as the Son and the Spirit. The God we have known in the person of Jesus Christ is the God who moves in and through us in the person of the Spirit.

God—Creator, Christ, Spirit—is truth. This is what the Gospels proclaim and this is what we—the body of Christ—proclaim.

In proclaiming the divine and believing in God as truth, the question of what is truth transforms into what does it mean to be in the truth?

Theologian Paul Tillich addresses this question. “How do we reach this truth?” he asks. “’By doing it,’ is the answer of the Fourth Gospel... Doing the truth means living out of the reality which is He who is the truth, making His being the being of ourselves and of our world.”

In other words, how do we live in the truth? We live in God and welcome God to abide in us.

God, like truth, is revealed in the living and doing. In love, in our love for Christ and Christ’s love for us, we know God more. This love is not just a feeling – though such feeling is important. It is a feeling which is lived out in the following of Christ’s commandments, in loving God and one another.

Christ addresses this way of living in his words to his disciples in the upper room, when his public ministry has come to a close and now, as the end is upon him, he imparts words of challenge and hope.

Out of love for Christ, we are to obey his commandments. We are to love God and one another and we will not be alone as we do so. The Spirit – the Spirit of truth – will be with us, within us. This Spirit is our Paroclete, our Advocate, our Helper. This Spirit is the one who has been called by Christ to come alongside and help.

The Spirit enables us to be in and of the truth. Though Christ is not with us in the physical person, the Spirit of truth is the one that lights the fires of holiness in our hearts.

Followers of Christ, those who live in the Spirit, know that the path we are called to walk is not an easy one. God’s truth is not the world’s truth for though God made the world, God is not of the world. The world does not want to hear God’s truth, the world does not want to hear God.

Truth is a powerful tool against the darkness. In living in God, living in truth, we live so the light of God’s righteousness and justice shines in and through us.

Truth goes beyond not telling falsehoods or half-truths. Truth is speaking the silenced reality. Truth is pointing out injustice everyone else turns a blind eye to.

Truth is speaking in love to the friend you worry may have an addiction, or is in an unhealthy relationship, or is making other harmful choices.

Truth is signing up to give a pint of blood, even if it makes you nervous, because the benefit to others means more than your fear. Truth is that goodness means more than fear.

Truth is staying silent when the words you want to speak are unnecessarily harmful or hurtful.

Truth is that breath of fresh air when you have been suffocating for something that speaks to you.

Truth is the voice which tells you a different story than the world. When you are told “no, you can’t dream,” “no, you can’t reach for the stars,” “no, you can’t be who you were made to be,” the voice of the truth says, “yes. Yes, yes, yes!!!”

Truth is powerful. It is not meek or mild. When you hear truth spoken after eons of falsehoods, it screams out at you.

Truth is not for everyone – yes, everyone should live truth, speak truth, seek truth, but they do not. There are truths that some in our world are not ready for, close their ears, eyes, and hearts to.

Truth is what those who follow the risen Christ are called to proclaim in word and deed – regardless of the cost.

Truth is what we carry with us when we go with God, when we know and receive the Holy One.

We know what truth is. We know how to live in the truth. Now the question becomes, will we? Amen.

Memories

2008-04-19T09:27:00.000-04:00

One of my earliest memories of church is watching my father process down the aisle of our church, the Bible held over his head. He would walk up to the chancel and place the Bible in its place. Later he would read in a big, serious voice the scripture for that Sunday. During Mass (I grew up half-Catholic, remember!) he would assist the priest with serving. The memory of my father participating in worship carries with it feelings of pride in my father and also yearning to be like him. As a child I watched him participate in worship and wanted to do the same.

Now it’s true, I was a special child (one telling her parents she wanted to be a priest at the age of six – I didn’t quite get the rules of Catholicism yet) but it is not only children who will one day grow up to be ministers who long to participate in worship. I have had requests from those as young as seven to help lead worship on Sunday mornings. What joy this yearning brings to my heart! And what joy does this upcoming Sunday bring to so many!

This Sunday is our second Children’s Sunday where our kids as young as pre-K lead us in worship. With the Middle Schoolers assisting in reading scripture and some of the prayers, there will be quite an age range represented. I love that this congregation is such a welcoming place that we not only encourage children to be in worship, we encourage and rejoice with them as they lead worship.

Participating in the life of the church is essential for all Christians and worship is a huge part of our life together. Our children do not have to look at their parents or adult friends leading worship and yearn for the day they can too. Here and now we welcome them as full brothers and sisters in Christ.

Distracting Fun!

2008-03-24T16:28:00.001-04:00

Your Biblical Name Is...

Yavonna Abira

You will live to see the end of times.

What's Your Biblical Name?

Sound of Your Voice

2008-03-09T19:26:00.001-04:00

Texts: Ezekiel 37:1-14; John 11:17-27

If God were to take you by the hand and lead you somewhere – I doubt Ezekiel’s destination would be where you’d want or even expect to go. Perhaps you’d expect to gaze upon a stunning mountain range or take in a beautiful meadow filled with wildflowers and babbling brooks. Any valley we might see would be a green and growing valley, a valley of life. We would be led by the hand of God into a paradise.

Ezekiel’s experience of being touched by the hand of God is not what we might imagine. Ezekiel—one of the Judeans exiled by Babylon and a priest turned prophet—is led in a vision to a place the psalmist could have been thinking of when writing “yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death.” Ezekiel is brought to the remnants of a great battle – a battle where the dead where not giving the honor of burial but remained in an open field. He has been brought to a place where a rebellious and covenant breaking Judah had experienced ultimate defeat, humiliation, and anguish and been left to rot.

Just as with the story of Jesus and Lazarus, there is no chance the dead of this valley are not dead yet, that perhaps they’ll soon be feeling better. Not just four days have passed as with Lazarus – enough time has passed there are no intact bodies, only scattered parts. In this valley there is no life – there is nothing but bare bones. Bare-dry-bones.

In the midst of such a desolate place, God asks Ezekiel can these bones live? Can these bones live? Bones that are nothing but pieces of what presumably once were people?

Ezekiel doesn’t know if these dry bones can ever be anything other than dry bones. He doesn’t know whether or not there can ever be life in the midst of all these overwhelming – and seemingly final – death. But what he does know is much like Martha—who answers Jesus’ question of resurrection after her brother’s death—knows. Ezekiel knows that the divine is where the answer to this question – and where life – lies.

The prophet responds in this faith and is in turn instructed to proclaim a promise of life.

Even though these bones presumably have no ears to hear, something happens. There is a sound, a rattling, and suddenly the impossible is happening – bone to bone. God – who knit each one of us in our mother’s wombs – knits these bones, these bodies, these people back together.

Then, after instructing Ezekiel to call out to the ruach – which is the word for both breath and spirit in Hebrew – God’s ruach, God’s spirit comes into the once dry bones and they live.

After this vision God does not make Ezekiel or us sit and wonder what these dry bones knitting back together, becoming whole and being filled with life might mean. God declares that those who once cried out that their bones are dried and hope lost will be brought up from their graves, out from their despair, into life and the land.

For Ezekiel’s original hearers, this vision promised hope after their country had been destroyed and after they had been exiled from their land.

For those of us who hear Ezekiel’s words today, we have no trouble reimaging Ezekiel’s dry bones. We have each known what it is to feel torn apart, to be left behind in a valley of despair. We have experienced disappointment after disappointment; we have been at a loss for who we are and whose we are; we have fallen so low that we wonder if we can every climb out of our hole.

We have felt brittle and dry and longed to be refreshed and whole.

We have each experience our own valleys. Many of us have also experienced a rebuilding and a renewing brought on by the Spirit. We have fallen into valleys of death and been raised by God into life. In small groups, bible studies, around tables at dinner, we have shared stories of how God has breathed the spirit of life into us.

This is good news – news which will carry us through our hard times. In the valleys of our lives, God speaks and moves and brings life. This is good news for us but it is not the only word for us to hear.

In this vision of Ezekiel’s, we can see ourselves as the dry bones. And there are times when we are those dry bones. But there are also times when we are – at least we should be – Ezekiel.

God speaks words of life in the face of death. God speaks these words not through an angel or a burning bush or a talking donkey, but through a mortal, a person, just like you, just like me, a human.

God chooses to use those created in the divine image to proclaim the divine truth – that in God life is possible even after death, even after all hope seems lost.

This Friday I attended a production of Numbers the Stars, a play based on the Lois Lowry book about the Danish resistance during World War II, how the Danish people hid and protected their Jewish friends and neighbors from the horrible fate of so many other European Jews.

After the play, a man by the name of Mark Strauss spoke to the audience. Mark is a Holocaust survivor. After being forced into a ghetto – Jews in a cage as he called it – friends of his grandparents, an elderly Catholic couple, took Mark in and hid him in a first floor apartment.

For 22 months he lived in a 10 by 7 room, a room with a cot, a window, and a door. Lest the neighbors grow suspicious by the appearance of a curtain in the window or a glimpse of what looked like a little boy’s face at the elderly couple’s house, he spent the time living on the cot or the floor.

Mark survived – unlike 85% of the Jewish people from his town – but his time of survival wasn’t pleasant. It was filled with fear, filth, hunger, and moments of which he would not speak. During this time, he experienced not only German hatred toward Jews, but Ukrainian hatred toward the Polish. Surrounded by threat upon threat, Mark survived.

In the midst of death, Mark was an example of life. What’s more, after he was liberated and after he came to the United States, he did not bring the forces of death with him. The hatred of a people – hatred he witnessed and experienced embodied in atrocious ways – this hatred he left behind. Of the five things Mark wants those who hear his story to understand, to take away with them, the fifth was most profound for this listener. He doesn’t hate. Rather than be filled with hate toward the Germans or the Ukrainians, he chooses to value each person based on their own merits – not their ethnicity. Mark has chosen the path of life over death, and what’s more, he speaks about it.

As the body of Christ, are we called to do any less?

Words of life, words that bring together the scattered pieces of a people, words that are inspired by and speak to the breath of life which comes from God – these are words that you and I are charged with. As the body of Christ – the one who is the resurrection and the life – we are the ones who must speak to this resurrection and this life. We are the ones who are called to look out at a valley and say “O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord.”

“O dry bones…” These are words we are to proclaim but do we? How many times have we looked out at these valleys and stayed silent instead of speaking out God’s good news? How often have we looked at despair and doubted that anything can be done to change the situation?

The problem is too complicated – nothing that you or I can say or do will ensure all people have access to adequate health care. The hatred is too deep, too entrenched in people – no efforts we make will stem the tide of violence. This is the way things have always been – the poor will be with us always.

We get lost and are made mute by doubting what good we can do. What good letter writing or phone calls will do. What good speaking out when we hear or experience hatred or injustice will do.

What good will it do? When we speak to life as the spirit of God moves within us, we testify to the breath of life which comes from God. This breath which brought the dry bones together, bone to bone, then sinew to sinew, flesh to flesh. This breath which filled Lazarus with life, this breath which flows from the resurrection and the life.

Mark Strauss witnessed a valley of dry bones and now spends his time witnessing to both the death that has been and the promise of life that will be. You and I who are bound together in the one baptism, the one faith, the one Lord, are called to witness to the Lord, to the one who died and rose again. We are called to witness to the impossible. We are called to speak life for the one who is the life.

We have to be the ones to speak for a world full of dry bones, a world that needs the sound of our voice. This world is crying out for someone to speak daring words, scary words, unwelcome words; to proclaim life in the midst of death; to witness to hope in the abyss of despair.

This world is crying out so let us find the words given to us even as we have been filled with the Spirit – the ruach – the breath of life. Let us speak, proclaim, we witness not because we know whether or not the bones will live, not because we know that the words we speak will definitely bring an end to poverty or bring about justice. Let us speak because God knows, speak because God has chosen to work through us. Praise be to God. Amen.

the way they held each other

2008-03-03T15:23:00.002-05:00

I'm sitting at the coffee shop working on worship and came across this lovely poem I just had to share. It's by Indian poet Mira (1498-1550) and taken from the book Love Poems from God: Twelve Sacred Voices from the East and West, translated by Daniel Ladinsky.

the way they held each other

A woman and her young daughter were destitute
and traveling to another country
where they hoped to find
a new life.

Three men stole them while they were camping.

They were brought to a city
and sold as slaves; each to a different
owner.

They were given one minute more together,
before their fates became unknown.

My soul clings to God like that,
the way they held
each other.

Don't Forget to Turn Ahead Your Clocks!

2008-03-01T21:06:00.000-05:00

“Don’t forget to change your clocks!”

The moment I saw that sentence pop up on my computer this past Saturday night, I panicked. Daylight Savings time – already?!? I had just spent the last 14 hours traveling back to Staunton from Chicago and the last thing I expected to see when I turned on my computer to check e-mail was this announcement.

Luckily for me – and all of you who would have had to witness me deprived of a precious hour of sleep following a long and tiring day of travel – this reminder was a week early. We won’t spring forward until this Saturday evening. Once I realized the actual date, my heart rate dropped back down but this time thing was still on my mind. I had just spent a week of vacation doing nothing but relax – I read, watched movies, spent time with good friends, went to the spa (thanks to the aforementioned good friends’ generosity), and cooked. It was a perfect vacation – one where I could spend a lot of quality time resting in God. And then, the moment I get back, time – and how we’re losing it – slams right into my face. Thwack!

This Lent I have chosen to take up the practice up spending at least ten minutes a day intentionally listening for God. Most days I do pretty well with this practice, though not all. This recent bout with TIME! has reinforced how important such practices are for me – and not just during Lent. During my week away, I just was and most of the time, I was with God in a very aware way. During my weeks running around church and town, always go-go-going, I’m not as aware of my being with God. I’m not as aware of God’s being with me.

Lent is already half-way over which means my Lenten observance will not be around much longer. I’m thinking about doing something a little different this year. I’d like to pick up an Easter observance, and a Pentecost observance, and even an Ordinary Time observance! I’d like to keep being intentional about listening for God every single day. And I’d like to invite you to join me. Maybe you won’t spend 10 minutes each day listening – maybe just a few, maybe a whole hour – but I hope you take time out of each day to really stop and listen. God may have something exciting to say – it’s true – but even if God doesn’t, each minute you spend just listening for God, just being with God, is a minute of time well spent.

Reading and Relaxing

2008-02-27T23:13:00.002-05:00

A brief update from vacation land:

I've spent the last several days doing nothing but reading, relaxing, cooking, and spending quality time with dear friends. What a perfect vacation! I had a special treat on Sunday when I went to worship with several friends of mine. I have been hearing about this new minister at the church they all attend, "Carla this and Carla that," "Carla's the most amazing person ever," "I just adore Carla" and so on. Of course I was excited to meet and be led in worship by this woman held in such dear esteem by my friends. The worship service at this particular church begins and ends with the passing of the peace (a lovely way to bookend the service I must say). At the first passing of the peace I looked up to where the minister was and lo and behold, it was \my Carla! The Carla my friends have been raving about is the same Carla I worked with as an intern in Atlanta, the same Carla who inspired me and from whom I've borrowed a few worship ideas. I ran up to pass the peace and we were both delighted at the unexpected reunion.

It's a small world and sometimes I just love that!

leaving on a jet plane

2008-02-21T23:14:00.002-05:00

I'll soon be heading out for a fabulous week of vacation in warm, sunny, tropical Chicago. Yes, yes, I know, Chicago in the winter is a brilliant vacation choice! While Chi-town has more snow and brisk wind I'd want in a vacation spot, it also holds one of my dearest friends. While sunny beaches might be more glamorous, nothing beats the company of a good friend.

I'll see you all when I get back! Have a wonderful week all and think of poor, freezing, me!

You Gotta Have Faith

2008-02-16T18:35:00.003-05:00

Texts: Genesis 12:1-4
Romans 4:1-5, 13-17

Perhaps like a lawyer remembers the first time she brought a case to court, or a teacher the first time he assigned (and then had to grade) 10 page essays, this preacher remembers the first time she was told to proclaim the word of God.

I don’t remember how it felt to stand up in front of my peers and preach, or how I picked the text or if I felt good about the sermon after I had preached it. What stands out the most in that memory is how I – and quite a few of my classmates – had longed for a form to follow and how our preaching professors wouldn’t give it to us.

Nice people, these professors of ours, but they refused to do the simplest thing to help us prepare. We wanted a list, a “all good sermons must include these things” kind of list, to know that if we followed this list, or this model, this outline, we would be guaranteed to have a decent sermon. And they said, no. Pick a text and preach the Word. That was our list.

Our professors wanted us to have faith in ourselves and more importantly, in the way God would work in and through our voices. We wanted a checklist, a form to follow, a way to guarantee we would get it “right.”

Whether we be seminary students learning to preach or not, we all often want a list – these are the things we need to do in order to get things “right.” Get our work right, our relationships right, our life right. Sometimes it seems like it would be so much easier, so much nicer, if we just had a list of things to do or not do, and as long as we followed that list, all would be well. We’d be the perfect preacher or lawyer, we’d be the perfect parent, we’d live a good, healthy, and fulfilling life – guaranteed.

Many of us struggle with accepting that we don’t have to be perfect. That we can indeed mess up at our jobs, at it can still be okay. That we can forget a birthday (here and there) or say the wrong thing and the people we are in relationship with will still love us. That we can make wrong decisions in our lives, go down the wrong path for awhile, and still, we can recover and live beautiful, fruitful lives.

When it comes to our faith, that desire to have a list, the need to be perfect, the longing to have a guarantee that we’re doing it “right,” often doesn’t go away. We want some sort of faith check-list in order to know we’re right with God.

I’m okay with God because I’ve done a pilgrimage or because I’ve fasted every holy season just like I’m supposed to or because I’ve gone to church every Sunday. I’m okay with God because I’ve been given this list and followed it to the T. I’m okay with God because of what I’ve done.

Those of us who long for some sort of list, some sort of guarantee, some way of being able to measure our rightness with God, aren’t alone. In his letter to the Romans, Paul addresses the issue of being right with God. For many people, being right with God was proven by the works you did. The law – the list of rules and regulations passed down from generation to generation – was viewed as a way to measure your righteousness. The more perfectly you followed the law, the more right you were with God. If you have the law and can obey the law, then you KNOW that you are righteous. You can look back at your successes and prove it.

Paul challenges this assumption with lovely rhetoric and usage of the ultimate model of faith for the Hebrew people. Abraham was seen in first century Judaism as the model of obedience to God. And Abraham, it was commonly understood, was a follower of the law (even though it had yet to be given) and it was by the law that Abraham was in right relationship with God.

While the Bible does not give us much background on Abram before he becomes Abraham, Jewish midrash and extracanonical literature filled in the blanks by imagining a man faithful to the one true God long before he was called by this God. Abram of the extra-biblical traditions some how obtains knowledge of the true God (some texts say as early as the age of three), tries to convert his whole family to the true faith, destroys idols of the false Gods, and is taught Hebrew by an angel of the Lord. He is a true, good, faithful follower of the law – long God initiates any covenant with him.

These extra-biblical traditions were developed to answer a question burning on the law-abiding minds of faithful Hebrew people. Why did God choose Abram? What things had he done, what laws had he obeyed, what were his works that made him worthy, that made him righteous?

The truth is, as Paul tells us, Abraham did nothing. Abraham wasn’t made righteous, wasn’t made right with God, by what he did or didn’t do. He wasn’t chosen because of some great deeds or holiness we don’t read about in the Bible. God choose Abram because God wanted to. And Abram, in response to this call, didn’t go around smashing idols or building temples or converting his whole village – he just believed. Abram is righteous – is in right relationship with God – simply because God said go and Abram went. Abram had faith and that faith, that gift from God, is where the right relationship with God lies.

While people in Paul’s world wanted to point at the law, prove their righteousness by their deeds, Paul contends that no one is righteous by what they do. If we were made righteous by the law, we’d all fall short and none of us would be in right relationship with God. We are right with God because of God’s grace and because of this gift of faith.

The truth is: there is no checklist. No matter how hard we try to follow the law, we will never be perfect. No matter how hard we work in any of our relationships – even our relationship with God – we will never be perfect. And yet God loves us still. God loves us despite our imperfections. And in response to that love, we are to believe. Believe in God, believe in God’s love for us.

Just believe; sounds simple but it’s not that easy. Maybe it’s because we’ve been hurt too many times by the world around us, but for many of us, it’s hard to believe that someone – anyone, let alone the Creator of the Universe – will love us no matter what. It’s hard to accept that our righteousness is not determined by how many good works we do, how many good deeds we can store up, how much we can prove we want to be right with God, but simply by our faith, our own yearning to be in relationship with God. We are in right relationship with God as long as we yearn to be in relationship with God.

That’s not to say we can’t grow in our relationship with God; as Paul tells us later in Romans, Abraham grew in his own faith even as he offered glory to God. We can grow in our relationship with God, grow in our faith. But the things we do, the words of praise we offer – none of these make us worthy of God’s love or gain us some sort of perfect faith. They come as a response to that love and out of the faith we already have.

None of us will ever have a perfect faith. None of us will ever follow the law perfectly. None of us will ever be able to prove our love for God by what we do. But all of us can accept the love God has given us. All of us can yearn to be in relationship with this loving God. All of us can strive to respond in love. All of us can seek to follow the model of Abraham. He accepted God’s blessing, God’s favor, God’s love and let his faith grow from there. May we do the same. Amen.

Undecided

2008-02-06T15:58:00.001-05:00

As some of you may know, Lent is my favorite season of the year. The 40 days we spend preparing for Holy Week can be an intense and invaluable time set apart. Each year I take up a Lenten discipline to help me keep Lent on the forefront of my mind.

Here's my problem. It's Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent, and I don't know what I'm going to do. Last year I gave something up so this year I really wanted to take something on. But what? I can't decide! Any thoughts, suggestions, would be appreciated!

Collecting Hugs

2008-02-04T11:46:00.000-05:00

Sitting in my second office (Coffee on the Corner for those who may not know) I had a delightful encounter. A young soft-spoken Mary Baldwin student - who I have seen around town before - came up to me and said "I'm collecting hugs and I was wondering if I could have one of yours." How odd a thing to hear. I - of course - said yes and gave her one of my hugs. And it was wonderful! Hugging a virtual stranger may sound like it would be uncomfortable but it wasn't. It felt right.

After our hug, she collected hugs from other patrons and went to eating her sandwich. I like to think I offer God's love to all I meet yet I doubt I could ever gather the nerve to do what she did. That hug - unexpected to say the least - was a lovely reminder that we shouldn't be afraid to express care and genuine affection - even to strangers.

elmer gantry

2008-01-26T20:28:00.000-05:00

Just finished a book I've been working on for a couple weeks, Elmer Gantry by Sinclair Lewis. It's about a man who rises from less than stellar beginnings to become a well-respected minister and morality leader. Except it's not as feel good as perhaps that brief description makes it sound. I really enjoyed the book - it had some brilliant commentary on hypocrisy in the church as well as some great laugh-out-loud moments.

Particular favorite quote: “Because the Baptists and the Methodists have all the numbskulls—except those that belong to the Catholic Church and the henhouse sects—and so even you can get away with being a prophet. There are some intelligent people in the Episcopal and Congregational Churches… Of course all Presbyterians are half-wits, too, but they have a standard doctrine and they can trap you into a heresy trial.”

That’s us, half-wits with a keen eye for heresy!

If you’re interested on reading a classic piece of American lit that was quite controversial in its days and is still rather dead-on in this day, I recommend it!

Preaching the Word

2008-01-21T09:57:00.000-05:00

One of the greatest joys of my ministry is the time I spend with our youth. Full of energy and laughter, our youth inspire and challenge me. Listening to their thoughts, ideas, passions and beliefs I find my own faith renewed in our time together. This Sunday the senior high will be leading us in worship. As they’ve been preparing and planning for this worship service, it’s been a delight to hear how the scripture for Sunday touches their lives. I look forward to sharing in worship with them and you this Sunday and seeing how their words touch all of us.

Along with hearing the voices of our youth, Youth Sunday excites me because it affirms what we as a Reformed people believe – God can and does speak to all of us. John and I have years of training and experience, yes, but that’s not what allows us to stand up in the pulpit and proclaim the Word of God. The Spirit is what empowers us – all of us: John, me, you, our youth. The Spirit is what moves us and gives us the words to speak. Every one of us can proclaim the Word of God.

Covenant affirms that truth in a variety of ways – from Youth Sunday and Children’s Sunday (this year on April 27th) to the Word proclaimed in October by lay leaders. We know it’s not just Ministers of Word and Sacrament to whom the Spirit speaks. The Word is also proclaimed on other days than Sunday and other places than the pulpit. Listening to and participating in conversations about God in Bible studies, at dinner on Wednesdays, around the kitchen table when I’ve been invited over for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, I have heard the Word proclaimed. Sorting cans with you for the Salvation Army, repairing homes with you in Mississippi, seeing money donated to Heifer International instead of buying more stuff for loved ones, I have witnessed the Word proclaimed.

It’s quite a privilege to hear such powerful proclamations. Keep on proclaiming the Word with your words and your lives. As I’ve said to the youth, let me say to all of you: preach it, preacher!

I'm dreaming of a white thursday

2008-01-18T13:53:00.000-05:00

I love snow days!

Didn't really have them much as a kid - in Texas school got cancelled for floods much more often than it did for odd white stuff falling from the sky. Yesterday I got up planning on driving to Harrisonburg for a CPM meeting only to discover I wouldn't be driving my car anywhere that day! A snow day for me is a lovely unexpected gift; instead of sitting in an all day meeting (which has its own merits, to be sure), I got to run about and enjoy the wonder of a blanket of snow.

I've spoken to several friends and run into a few church members today. It seems many of us ran outside, made snowmen and women, went sledding, made snow angels, sipped hot cocoa, got together with friends – just enjoyed the day. We rush about so often and miss things like rays of the sun glistening on freshly fallen snow – I’m as guilty of that as anyone. It’s rather nice when the sky opens up and forces us to slow down, stop even, and just appreciate what’s before us.

a monday afternoon

2008-01-07T15:34:00.000-05:00

I adore living in Staunton and I most particularly appreciate the wonderful opportunities this town gives me to meet and make new friends. Now, yes, I happen to be an extra-amiable woman, but I do think there’s something about this town that makes it easy to strike up conversations with people at, say, your local coffee shop and by the end of the conversation, make plans for lunch!

This afternoon as I’ve forced myself to finish the youth calendar (I have trouble committing to dates for certain activities) I also made a new friend – another minister in the area (Lutheran). How wonderful that it’s not strange here (at least I hope not) for me to just go up and introduce myself upon overhearing her career.

I love the museums, the ballet, the many areas of exploration big cities offer but nothing can beat moments like the one I had this afternoon.

The Angels Hung Around

2007-12-30T13:20:00.000-05:00

Texts: Isaiah 63:7-9
Matthew 2:13-23

I hope all of you had blessed and love filled Christmas day and are enjoying both leftovers and loved ones in the days that have followed.

Watching Christmas movies with my family, I’ve heard a lot of “this is what Christmas is about” from the characters on screen. Christmas is about truth, about love, about taking a chance, about family. I’ve enjoyed listening to all these statements about what the season is supposed to be, what it’s supposed to inspire in us, because I think they all are speaking to this feeling many of us have, this feeling deep down that Christmas is special and during this season all wonderful things are possible.

We long for Christmas tide to be full of nothing but joy and warmth, moments we can capture on film that we can look back upon when times are challenging and remember the glow of Christmas.

Sometimes we do get Christmases full of glow and love and nothing else. Sometimes we don’t. And even when we have the perfect Christmas, a gentle fresh snow on the ground, all our loved ones together without any of that pesky squabbling, the perfect Christmas ham or turkey or veggie platter that everyone salivates over… Even when we do have this perfect Christmas, you and I know that the feelings of warmth and love don’t last as long as the fruit cake and good tidings don’t ring in our ears all year long.

What happens? The world happens. Too much family togetherness brings up old grudges; those who have trouble feeling close to others are reminded of their isolation during the season that emphasizes kinship; violence erupts even as we worship the Prince of Peace.

The Christmases we experience which turn toward the harshness of the world follows in the unfortunate tradition set by the very first Christmas. Even the first Christmas, accompanied by proclamations from angels, did not usher in an eon of warmth and happiness. The shepherds came and went, as did the wise men, and this child whose birth was lauded by the heavenly chorus finds his life threatened.

Jesus is still a babe who is learning to sit up, eat solid foods, talk, and already the establishment is terrified of him. Herod—determined no king other than him should reign—sends out the troops under his command to eliminate any threat.

Eliminate any threat. As though a child who can’t yet speak is a threat to anything other than a good night’s sleep.

An angel of the Lord sends a message to Joseph to escape. The Holy Family bundles up and get out of Israel and headed toward Egypt. Jesus escaped but there were so many children who did not.

Just like the child Moses who escaped the wrath of Pharaoh when so many other Hebrew children did not, Jesus slips into the night with his mother and father and finds himself in Egypt, the land from which the adult Moses led his people. Just as we celebrate Moses’ journey down the river Nile in a basket, we celebrate Jesus’ escape from Herod’s wrath. How can we, though? How can we celebrate Jesus’ good fortune when so many others suffered?

This is the question we deal with every day. How do we praise God when the little children in this world are suffering? How do we rejoice that some are saved when others are lost?

We celebrate the birth of one child even as we look around and see children facing death – death from hunger, violence, need beyond anything we can comprehend. We see children of God of all ages fighting against the darkness of loneliness, self-doubt, loss of direction, anger, and so much more. Just like in the village of Bethlehem, the Herods of our world are seeking out the innocents for destruction.

This is the hard reality of Christmas, one many of us face in different ways. We want to first find the joy and warmth the season is supposed to bring and then remain in this sacredly serene feeling for the rest of the year. But it never happens that way. We want to praise God for all the good God has done and not be challenged with our praise of the Lord with the truth of evil in this world. But it never happens that way.

Instead of eternal bliss, rather than uncomplicated praise of a god who guarantees only good things to his or her followers, we have this messy and mysterious God who, when we follow, promises something else entirely.

Our Christmas story has been filled with visions and visits from angels. After the Christ-child has been born, the angels hung around, watched after him and his family. We could celebrate this part of the story – the presence of angels – but that isn’t what our text is about, that isn’t what Christmas is about, isn’t what our God is about.

God’s promises are more complicated than visions from angels or perfect happiness – and yet in some ways so much more simple. Isaiah reminds the people of his time and the ages to follow what it is to follow this God, what it is to trust in God’s promises, what and how it is we celebrate Christmas.

“he became their savior in all their distress. It was no messenger or angel but his presence that saved them; in his love and in his pity he redeemed them; he lifted them up and carried them all the days of old.”

It was no messenger or angel but God’s presence that saved them.

This—this is what Christmas is about, this is what we celebrate in the midst of the dark of our world.

The story of the massacre of the infants, of the innocents, isn’t just a story of a miraculous escape for Jesus and his family. Jesus escaped death here, yes, but we know what awaits him 30 or so years down the road. This story proclaims to us from the beginning what we will come to know so well throughout his life – Jesus is with us. He is subject to the pain and injustice of this world, he is victim of hatred and prejudice, and through him God is with us in all our suffering, in all things.

It is because of the God we know in the person of Jesus Christ that we can dare to say that even though the infant Jesus was not in Bethlehem when Herod’s soldiers came God was.

Jesus is God with us, Jesus is our salvation, our saving story. Through the person of Christ, God loves us, pities us, redeems us, and lifts us up into to the divine presence.

Through the person of Jesus Christ we know that though the world is not full of bliss, though the glow of Christmas fades and our troubles may seem here to stay, though something as horrific as the murder of these children is proof of the darkness, through Jesus we know our saving story.

Being a follower of Christ isn’t about escaping the clutches of evil… I wish it was. Following Christ can be about that- Jesus wants us to be free from evil, murder, but it’s more complicated.

The promise we have as a Christ follower comes in God’s presence among us – a presence we have known in the person of Jesus Christ and the life-giving and moving Spirit.

Even when our family squabbles, even when we can’t find any more Christmas cheer to light our days and nights, even when the worst we could imagine – beyond what we could imagine – happens, we can take comfort, find our cheer, find our hope in the knowledge that God is with us.

God’s presence gives us hope—hope that things can improve, may improve, will improve, slowly, too slowly to be sure. Hope in something greater than us, hope that what we know and see here and now is not all there is, is not God’s full kingdom, not yet. Hope that once we have departed from this place there is togetherness with God, our salvation, our hope, a togetherness that banishes all tears, all death, all pain.

The Christmas story is full of amazing signs and visions, the glory of God shone through the heavenly chorus singing “Glory to God in the highest!” and the story of Christ’s first days ends in brutality for so many of God’s innocents.

But above all the angels and beyond all the brutality lies the good news - “It was no messenger or angel but his presence that saved them; in his love and in his pity he redeemed them; he lifted them up and carried them all the days of old.”

Rejoice in cheer, rejoice in sorrow, rejoice that wherever you are, God is with you. Amen.

heard on Sunday morning

2007-12-30T10:03:00.000-05:00

- coffee, coffee, I need coffee... (me)
- you talk too fast for me to understand you (a 7 year old visitor who I was greeting)
- that started to be quite the downer of a sermon, but I'm glad you got to the good stuff (a member at the 8:30 service)
- you sound kinda British (another member)
- Glory to God in the highest and ah, crap (my 10:30 liturgist practicing).

Sermon Prep

2007-12-27T17:18:00.000-05:00

I'm sitting at home staring at my father who's reading one of my favorite books - Good Omens - wishing I could do the same. Instead, I'm trying to figure out what exactly God wants to say through me this Sunday. My brow is currently on the "scrunchy" setting.

Thought I'd take a quick break and answer a question I know has been just burning on so many minds.

I often am asked "hey, Amy, how'd you come up with that" in reference to my sermons.

Well, let's see. I study the scripture, occasionally break out the Hebrew and/or Greek, enjoy the conversations held during our Monday morning Bible study class, take it with me wherever I go (not literally, though sometimes I do carry around a printed version of the text), and of course this:

Coffee is an essential component of my sermon writing process. I think the Holy Spirit is infused in the coffee beans or something. Really.

On that note, I think I need to go see if I've got any coffee left!

Peace.

And the Angel Said: "I Bring You Tidings of Great Joy..."

2007-12-24T10:56:00.000-05:00

Texts: Isaiah 7:10-16
Luke 2:8-14

Christmas time is here – bringing with it joy for many and sorrow for some, business for shops and carols in the street. For me, Christmas time brings in my family – the whole large, loud lot of them. Parents, grandparents, and this Christmas 4 out of my 5 siblings.

My family, as you may know, is not your traditional family. I have two biological siblings and 3 sisters who are adopted – though not in the legal sense. It can get confusing, I know. My blonde sprite of an adopted sister Dawn doesn’t raise too many eyebrows but I’ve gotten quite used to the puzzled looks that come when I introduce Neli and Nyembe – who happen to be from Zambia – as my sisters. Sometimes people understand right away what I mean; sometimes it takes a bit of explaining that even though we don’t share genes, these amazing women are my sisters.

I mention my family in part to warn you that the Summers-Minette clan has indeed descended upon poor Staunton town, but also because of what being a part of this family has taught me about our scriptures. It is in great thanks to my family that I understand what it means for a child to be born into one particular family but to be born for more than just that family.

In many communities, including the one where my sisters Neli and Nyembe grew up, your family wasn’t just your mom, dad, and siblings. Everyone, unfortunately for you as Neli says, is your parent. People you aren’t related to by blood look out for you, correct you, care for you.

The community Jesus was born into was more like my sisters’ community of origin than ours. When a child was born, he or she wasn’t just born for the particular parents, but for the whole community. The whole community would have a hand in raising this child, guiding this child, loving this child.

Jesus’ Palestinian-Jewish community also had a long tradition of understanding that children may be born with a purpose – they may themselves be a sign. The prophet Hosea had children whose birth and names told of the people’s unfaithfulness to God and the punishment that would come. Even before Samuel – he who is from God - was born, he had been dedicated to God and had been marked as the one who would preside as prophet under Eli.

And then there is the child Immanuel. During the Advent season we remember the child Isaiah spoke of, one who would be born as a reminder to the king of the time that God is with us. King Ahaz was faced with two powerful nations who had united to bring him and Judah down and was looking to align his and his nation’s fate with the current world power – Assyria. The child Immanuel – God-with-us – was born to remind the king that it is God and God alone who Judah needed to rely on for protection—for salvation.

It is no wonder the Gospel writers looked to this child hundreds of years later when Jesus was born. If this child Immanuel was a reminder that God is with us then Jesus is the ultimate reminder, the ultimate fulfillment of that prophecy. For in Jesus, God is with us in a most profound and unprecedented way.

In Jesus too a child has been born for more than just his mother and father – much, much more. Jesus is not just a sign or a reminder, not just one dedicated to God. In Jesus the idea that a child may be born for a people, for a purpose, is realized most fully.

“I am bringing you tidings of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is the Messiah, the Lord.”

When the angel speaks to the shepherds of a Savior being born for them – that a child has been born for them – these men in the field understand that this child can indeed – even though he is newborn – that he can already been known as Savior, as something greater for them. If Jeremiah can be called prophet while still in the womb, if Samson can be dedicated as a Nazirite before his birth, then surely at his birth, this child whose name the shepherds do not yet even know can be called Savior.

The world in which the angel brings tidings of great joy is a world where some, like the shepherds, can indeed look upon a child and see the Messiah. They may not yet understand what confessing Jesus as Messiah means, but this child born of Mary is indeed their Savior.

It is because of this child whose birth the angel announces that we are all bound together, regardless of our family, our age, even our location. We too, I hope, can understand how a child born into one family can be born for all of us. It is because of this one who was found wrapped in swaddling clothing that we call the person next to us brother or sister and know that we are theirs. Because of this child, we recognize each person as a child of God.

In the sacrament of baptism we welcome each child of God – whatever their age – as part of our family. We welcome each child of God and promise “to share in worship and ministry through our prayers and gifts, our study and service, and so fulfill our common calling to be disciples of Jesus Christ.” In baptism we proclaim through our ritual and our words that we are connected and that together we will strive to be faithful disciples of Christ.

Writer and poet James Agee said that “in every child who is born, the potentiality of the human race is born again.” We can say that in every child welcomed into the family of the church, the potentiality of the body of Christ is welcomed again. In every child we welcome, in every one of us, the potential for being the true and faithful church is here.

In every child we welcome and in every one of us, we may find both the comfort and the challenge that Christ, who is the head of our body, brought to his disciples.

Being a follower of Jesus is not just about rejoicing in the birth of the Savior. We don’t know what became of the child Immanuel that Isaiah spoke of, but we certainly know what happened to Jesus. Even in the birth story, the writer of Luke does not let us forget what will become of this child. The child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger foreshadows the man wrapped in linen cloth and laid in a rock-hewn tomb.

The babe whom the shepherds welcomed, who was raised by his mother and earthly father as well as his community in Nazareth, was rejected by those who once welcomed him. Jesus did not just care for the sick or the poor; Jesus challenged those who would be unjust and unrighteous. Jesus was welcomed as long as he was a sweet child, but when he became the revolutionary – a peaceful one mind – he was rejected with “isn’t this Joseph’s kid?” and run out of town.

Each child of God we welcome through the sacrament of baptism brings with him or her the full potential of being a faithful disciple. When we welcome this child, when we welcome one another, we don’t just welcome with hugs and prayers – we welcome what this child might say, what he or she might do, what he or she might move us toward. God works in and through each of us and as a child of God, each of us has the potential to continue God’s revolutionary work.

Being the church, the true church, is not a simple task and requires us to be open in ways that are quite painful. Your neighbor next to you may be the sister or brother who brings you a meal when you are ill, he or she may be the one who sits with you at Together on Wednesday, may be the person who teaches your Sunday school class or offers insights in class. This sister may also be the one who makes you uncomfortable because she suggest that we should first give to the church and then to ourselves. This brother in Christ may make you squirm when he asks why he hasn’t seen you in church lately. This child of God may make you question your values and priorities and you may be the child of God who – in love – helps to question others’.

Together as children of God we are called to grow as Christians. Together we are called love one another and confront one another. Together we are called to hear the words of comfort we long for and the words of challenge we need.

I bring you tidings of great joy for all people – to you has been born a Savior and to you has been born brothers and sisters who will help you follow that Savior. This Christmas I pray that we welcome both our Savior and our brothers and sisters in Christ. Amen.

Ringing the Bell!

2007-12-17T12:23:00.000-05:00

Two Saturdays ago I participated in Covenant’s bell ringing for the Salvation Army. Between singing carols with other Covenant members (badly on my part), trying to ring some sort of melody with the bells, and greeting people as they walked by, I really got into the Advent spirit. One story in particular I’d like to share.

My fellow bell ringer had stepped aside to help two women with their questions, leaving me to my enthusiastic ringing and (because it’s me) dancing to the carols I was trying to ring out. Several cars slowed down as they drove by me, all drivers smiling and waving.

Several minutes later, after my partner had come back to ringing and we were trying to remember all the words to 12 Days of Christmas, a woman burst out of the mall doors. She came over to me and said “this is all your fault.” My brain raced; who was she? What was my fault? With a smile she put several dollars in the kettle and handed me an item. It was a heart keychain with the words “the pure of heart will see God” engraved on it. Surprised that this woman would be giving me something, I didn’t hear the rest of her words. According to my fellow bell ringer, she said “I haven’t stopped by one of these things in years but on seeing your joy, I just had to.” She left me with another smile as I wondered at her kindness.

I share this not to confirm that being joyous puts people in a giving spirit (though I certainly think it does) but to share this moment in front of the mall when Christ appeared, with almost twenty days until Christmas remaining. In my joy, this woman saw the face of Christ in me. In her generous spirit, in her sharing of herself, and in her affirmation of what I had to give (that joy she recognized), I saw the face of Christ in her.

Christ came as a baby over two thousand years ago and Christ will come again. And – as this woman reminded me – Christ comes in the here and now, in moments like I experienced while ringing bells, in moments of generosity and joy, in so many different ways and places, Christ comes. Rejoice, believers, rejoice!