Failures

I have been thinking about "failures" lately. It has been coming up a lot in the past few weeks (which often means it's the Spirit).

Last week, I met a woman who had been the pastor of a new church start in Miami. When she arrived, it had been struggling for its first five years of existence. In the two years in which she served as pastor, it became a recovery ministry, reaching people struggling with addiction. Through this ministry, lives were literally and spiritually saved- people have been transformed. But because of its history and funding circumstances, it could not become a self supporting church in the two years she served. So it is being grafted together with another church family. It has been a work of the Spirit for all involved. The receiving church has been re-energized and the new church folks continue to be in vital recovery ministry.

She commented to me that in traditional terms, the new church was considered a "failure". I told her I struggle with that concept. Who is to say that a ministry which touches lives so deeply is a failure because it does not fit a standard definition?

Later the same week, I made a presentation about how God is working in our church family, especially as it relates to Jacob's Well. I commented that during launch and continuing to the present, I often feel unsure of how to accomplish things. I trust completely in the Spirit and in our gathered team to accomplish what God set before us, while being as informed and faithful as I know how to be. But it never feels like enough. This keeps me clear about who is really doing all of this- God.

One of the people there commented to me afterwards that this was the most encouraging thing I said- it was a relief to know I was no "expert" but someone striving and learning faithfully. (As a side note, I think this is why church workshops can be so discouraging. The presenters always come off as always having everything together and on the ball. Surely that cannot be true for the vast majority of us?)

Then I had a conversation with a friend on Saturday. I talked about how I spend most of my time feeling like we are teetering on the edge of a cliff. The Spirit has not let us fall yet. I also talked about how I think "failures" (world's definition) have been the fertile soil of God's most significant work. She commented she was very relieved to hear that.

If our church family had not had a Saturday night service that lasted a few years, and then a Sunday night prayer and praise service for a few years, I don't think Jacob's Well would have been launched. It was in the soil of those ministries in which Jacob's Well took root. They were not failures, but rather ministries that lasted a season. They were one of the many ways the soil was prepared for new growth.

In 2004, our church family went through the process of trying to buy land on Route 213. The seller refused to sell to us because of the amount of time it would take for perk tests and zoning requests. I know now that it was not God's timing to buy that parcel. Within six months of the sale falling through, God raised up a person who owns more land on 213. She would find total joy in selling us her land. I pray that God will bring this to fruition sometime in the future.

Also, we are now beginning conversation about having a Blended Parish Ministry structure for Town Point, Trinity, and Jacob's Well. If this is how God is moving, we would become unified in membership, administrative structure, and finances....one church with three locations. Some of the seeds of these possibilities were planted in the "failure" to acquire the land in 2004.

Finally, I think about how we voted at Town Point to not host the rotating homeless shelter there. God then used so many of us across the Charge, on all sides of the issue, to serve the homeless in other ways...at the Generation Station, at St. Paul's, at Trinity, and in relationship with folks regardless of where the shelter was hosted on a given week. In the seeds of that very difficult time, God nurtured existing seeds and planted new seeds for tremendous ministry among the homeless.

I don't yet know what the future will bring. I am certain that whatever the outcome, God will use it for God's purpose.

I am reminded of a phrase that was on our front sign for a few weeks: "Nothing that is done for God is ever lost."

I am also reminded of one of my favorite passages from the books of Acts, which came up in the lectionary a few weeks ago. It is the account of the apostles being brought before the council and persecuted for preaching about Jesus. The council was debating how to proceed, and one of their leaders said this:
But a Pharisee in the council named Gamaliel, a teacher of the law, respected by all the people, stood up and ordered the men to be put outside for a short time. Then he said to them, ‘Fellow Israelites, consider carefully what you propose to do to these men. For some time ago Theudas rose up, claiming to be somebody, and a number of men, about four hundred, joined him; but he was killed, and all who followed him were dispersed and disappeared. After him Judas the Galilean rose up at the time of the census and got people to follow him; he also perished, and all who followed him were scattered. So in the present case, I tell you, keep away from these men and let them alone; because if this plan or this undertaking is of human origin, it will fail; but if it is of God, you will not be able to overthrow them—in that case you may even be found fighting against God!’
Acts 4:34-39

Music

Today, I went to Seaford, DE to be a part of a workshop on worship. I was not scheduled to arrive until the first third of the event was over. When I arrived, I asked the host pastor how the first part of the day had gone; it had been their contemporary worship service. He said it had been good, with the exception of one difficult person who had asked a question about contemporary praise music lacking the good theology of hymns.

Hind sight being what it is, I have found myself wishing I had been there for that part of the discussion. I agree with the person asking the question: our hymns have much better theology than most (though not all) praise music. As one of my friends said later, there is a reason it is called "7-11" music: it is 7 words repeated 11 times. But he and I both still love it.

I come out of a contemporary church and I have come to deeply love traditional music too. But when it comes to sheer emotion, experiencing the joy of singing my heart out to God, praise music is what makes my heart sing most often.

I don't think this has anything to do with the inherent nature of praise music in a rock style, or classical music of many hymns. It is simply about the style I have listened to most. Because for me that happens to be praise/rock style, I am more likely to experience soaring joy while singing the style of music with which I am most familiar. (I also experience it singing many hymns.)

I am thinking about a boy I dated in High School. He loved Led Zepplin. I was less than enthused. He shared with me his theory that any human being could come to love any style of music, if they listened to it frequently enough. I think he is right! Led Zepplin grew on me and to this day I like it. Had I not dated him and listened to it just about every moment we were together, I don't think that would be the case. A similar thing has happened for me with hymns- many of them I adore because they help me feel God's presence.

Worship music is about connecting with God on an experiential level. It does also accomplish theological teaching, but that is not why people love to sing. People love to sing because it is a window into the Divine. I don't think that aspect of music should be under valued for the sake of theology because there are other ways to teach theology.

That said, couldn't we have our cake and eat it too? I am United Methodist, so Charles Wesley is the premier hymn writer of my tradition. His hymns, both the ones in the hymnal and the hundreds more not published there but otherwise available, were often set to the contemporary music of his day: bar tunes. This was done to accomplish the same goal of contemporary worship- to help people experience God by speaking in the language of the people. And the theology is truly outstanding.

Couldn't we find a gifted musician to set Charles Wesley hymn texts, perhaps somewhat adapted, to modern rock music? I think it could be awesome.

Easter

Happy Easter!

Yes, I know, we celebrated on April 8. But I am on a personal crusade to remind/teach the world that Easter is actually 50 days long.

So, that means that my Easter reflections are...right on time.

Holy Week and Easter were quite a blessing. (The week following, I took it easy, hence, no blogging.) The Maundy Thursday worship, with the drama focused on Mary the Mother of Jesus after the crucifixion was amazing. God really used Marian Harvey especially. The Saturday night Easter vigil was also tremendous. There were more than 70 folks gathered together for the "passover" of Jesus from death to life. We began outside with the fire, moved inside for scripture at stations, then onto the Commitment to Christian Community by the first folks to join Jacob's Well, and finally communion, prayer, and baptism remembrance stations with anointing. But we were still not done. We had a special offering for JuJu, our worship leader at Jacob's Well, who needed help getting back to South Africa. God provided $1,000...and an amazing song. JuJu wrote this:

Jacob's Well

Verse 1:
We came in hurt, we were all lost,
but you paid the cost
For all the wrong that we had done
you sacrificed your Son
And as we gather in this place
you fill us with your grace and love
O we need your Spirit Lord
It's our prayer, we ask in one accord

Chorus:
O this is our cry Lord,Love
So this is our prayer Lord, More
It's the place where hearts become restored
Our sins at the altar Lord we lay
Close to you is where we want to stay
In your presence we all want to dwell
Lord we pray, fill up Jacob's Well

Verse 2:
Our lives and love we give to you
Your Spirit helps us through
And in your arms we want to stay
Each and every day
So take this offering of of praise
It is from our hearts and souls
We still need your Spirit Lord
It's our prayer, we ask in one accord

Bridge:
As we gather here, we open our doors
May the weak and hurt find peace inside these walls
And as a family we stand tall and we proclaim
This church will not be shaken
We stand in Jesus' name

He recorded it at Ross and Gina's house (thank you God) and it has been stuck in my head since Easter.

What an amazing blessing to watch God work in our Church family...it's hard to believe that Jacob's Well is now a year old.

Mommy, can we....

"Mommy, can we have family Bible study after you put Jacob to bed?"

These are the words of my daughter. She is almost five years old. Times like these make me want to pinch myself and be sure I am really living this life, being her mother. I truly believe that God has given me a precious, amazing gift in Shannon. She seems hardwired to want to learn about God, and to be as loving and good as any child her age is capable of being.

Honestly, her words put me to shame that she has to request such things of me. We always pray at night before bed, and at meal time. We have several children's Bibles she regularly moves among for story time. But our family Bible study and prayer time is sporadic at best. I am resolving to do better.

Two children's class leaders at church have commented to me in the past two weeks that Shannon has been so talkative in class discussion time. I give most all of the credit to our Sunday School. She really soaks up the stories in there.

Today, when I came home, she was playing "funeral" asking what words she needs to say to begin the funeral service.

I am beginning to suspect that God is up to something here... as hard as I try not to imagine my children's future for them, believing that is up to God to reveal to them... it's hard not to imagine that God has something ministry related planned for this child.

A Prayer for Holy Week

I just saw this on the revgalblogpals blog and found it so moving,
that I am sharing it here too.

Lord Jesus Christ,
in this sacred and solemn week
when we see again the depth and mystery of your redeeming love,
help us to follow where you go,
to stop where you stumble,
to listen when you cry,
to hurt as you suffer,
to bow our heads in sorrow as you die,
so that, when you are raised to life again,
we may share in your endless joy.
Amen.

(from the United Church of Canada worship resource, "Celebrating God's Presence" UCPH, 2000)

Preaching

I have been thinking about preaching. I began preaching in 1997, at first once per month. Then in 1998, I was appointed to serve as a pastor of two small churches. The challenge of preaching every week while in Seminary was intense. I have always had appreciation for the power of story, so the search for illustrations was my most time consuming.

I still remember one particular morning when there was a visitor in the African American church I was serving. As she left, she commented "I enjoyed your story this morning." I know she meant it as a compliment. But I also knew that especially in the Black Church tradition, the question before every preacher is always "is there a Word from the Lord this morning?" She was also telling me that while I may have shared a nice story, it had not been a Word from the Lord for her. It had been a story, not a sermon. And she was right.

As I continued to work through preparing sermons and trying to be open to God giving me the ability to preach better, I began to feel better about my preaching. I have always had a heart for sermons that are down to earth, because I remember well what it is like to be a new comer in church and how important it is for preaching to be accessible.

The next major marker in my preaching history came in 1999. It also happened in the Black Church tradition. I was to be a part of a Martin Luther King, Jr. worship celebration. The pastor of the host church had been given free reign by most other clergy to just plug us in anywhere and we would be glad to serve. I expected to read Scripture or pray or something along those lines. Imagine my surprise when I walked in and saw in the order of worship that each clergy person was invited to give "remarks." For a preacher in this tradition, that meant preaching. (The host pastor was being respectful of each clergy person gathered.)

I prayed hard. I asked God to give me something to say. Such things have a way of getting longer with each person's remarks, and I was in the middle of the line up. I still don't remember what it is that the Spirit gave me to say. But I do remember that Scripture as well as stories from my devotional book flowed through my mind and out of my mouth. We, the gathered community, connected with each other and with the Spirit in a powerful way.

After that worship service, I came to this conclusion: if God can do that on a moments notice, then surely God can enable me to preach from an outline and not from a written manuscript. So I began taking more risks. On this journey, God has taken me from a nervous, manuscript reading preacher to an outline/very little notes preacher. On the way, I have discovered that the connection among the gathered community and the Holy Spirit feels more palpable.

I know that preaching in a way that feels conversational helps open us more deeply to what God has to say. I also know that God is able to accomplish such things.

So here is what I am wondering: do sermons in conversational style connect more deeply because there is an underlying assumption about authenticity? That if a sermon just "flows out of a person" it somehow communicates, subconsciously I think, that the preacher really believes/experiences what is being preached?

I ask this not because I think only preachers who don't use a manuscript have something authentic to communicate. That is patently false- when I used a manuscript I desperately wanted to share well from my heart. But I do think the medium of sermon delivery communicates in conjunction with the sermon itself.

Suffering

Wednesday morning BS (Bible Study) is such a blessing to me. This is the study in which I get to spend an hour (or more) studying the Scriptures for the coming Sunday with folks in our church family. God does a lot of heavy lifting most weeks- this is the riverbed through which my sermon flows.

It never ceases to amaze me how God can draw us to aspects of a passage we had never noticed in the past. Today we read the passion story in Luke 22-23, in preparation for Palm/Passion Sunday. None of us had remembered that Jesus was visited by angel in the Garden of the Gethsemane as he prayed for the Father to take this cup from him (Luke 22:43). It appears only in Luke, we discovered. Interesting that even after the angel strengthens Jesus, he prays even harder for the cup to pass from him!

We talked about the meaning of the crucifixion in our own experiences. I shared about my experience of the stations of the cross, with all of the kneeling, standing, and genuflecting, making me realize it was literally the least I could do in response to Jesus' death for me.

Another member shared about her experience of having to be willing to go to the cross, to be willing to bear the cross of suffering, and discovering in the midst of suffering the true depth of joy and assurance that flows from such an experience.

This has me thinking about suffering. I don't spend enough time reflecting on Christ's suffering. When I was first coming to faith over a decade ago, I was not at all comfortable with the idea of Christ suffering for me. But as I have grown in my experiences, I am discovering the comfort that comes from knowing that suffering is part of the journey, and it is redeemed by God in Christ. It is in truth unavoidable, and strangely, a tremendous blessing. For it is in suffering that we draw nearer to Christ, and discover the depth, strength, and peace of God's presence.

We continued the conversation talking about how common it is for people to draw closer to Christ in hard times. When things are going "well" by our definition, we are far less likely to rely on him alone. It is when things are beyond our control that we are most likely to trust and pray the hardest.

The phrase "downward mobility" came to mind. Nowhere does Jesus encourage his followers to try to accumulate wealth, move up to a bigger home, buy nice cars, and generally try to live the American Dream. There are plenty of times Jesus says things like encouraging his followers to give all they have to the poor, spend time with the poor, and take nothing but the clothes on their backs when going out in Jesus' name.

I think that voluntary suffering (downward mobility) can bring us close to Christ in much the same way that involuntary suffering can. I even think that perhaps those who don't choose the way of voluntary suffering are more likely to experience involuntary suffering as radically life altering crisis....not necessarily because God is "sending them suffering" but because any amount of suffering that comes into a life bent upon avoiding it feels radically life altering. When we choose the way of suffering, which is always a part of the way of following Jesus, we discover the grace that supports and sustains all of life.

So, my learning from Scripture today is that I am going to work on treasuring my suffering, real and perceived, as an opportunity to draw nearer to Christ, and to trust.

Apologizing

Last night, I had the privilege of preaching at St. Rose of Lima Roman Catholic Church. I was truly honored to be invited to preach there. I came to some varied realizations during worship.

As we went through the Stations of the Cross Liturgy, standing, genuflecting, standing, kneeling, standing, changing direction of standing, and starting the process over again, I came to this realization: Roman Catholics must have great thigh muscles! That, and they have a deeper appreciation for the role of suffering in daily life...all of the genuflecting and kneeling honestly got me thinking about this being the very very least I could in response to Jesus death on the cross.

The second realization came I stood to read Scripture and then preach: I don't know how to appropriately read Gospel lessons in a Catholic church. I know in that setting it involves crossing myself with the congregation, and that other things are involved. That is all I know. So when I turned to the gospel and this suddenly dawned on me, I turned to the deacon and congregation and said "I know there is an appropriate way to read the gospel in the Roman Catholic tradition with which I am unfamiliar. I'm sorry." The deacon waved his hand as a way of saying "don't worry about it" and I led us in the Gospel as I always do: asking people to honor Christ by standing for the reading and closing with "this is the Word of the Lord" to which all reply "Thanks be to God."

That night, I preached using insights and reflections from Barbara Brown Taylor's book Speaking of Sin: The Lost Language of Salvation. I really like this book. I have picked it up more than once. It talks of sin as being language of hope, for in confession we claim both our own responsibility for the sin and confess our hopefulness that between us and the Spirit there is forgiveness and the possibility for real change. This is at the heart of being transformed by God.

She also talks about the process being confession of sin, pardon/forgiveness, penance, and restoration to community. After the confession and pardon, we do penance, which is our ancient way of "making things right." Brown Taylor argues that penance was an abused concept at the time of the Reformation, but that it was thrown out as a baby with the bathwater when Protestants abandoned the idea. (I enjoyed laughing with folks about a United Methodist pastor preaching in a Catholic church about penance.) So penance is doing things like going back and apologizing for hurtful words, or going back to weed a garden you stole vegetables from, or going out into ministry among the poor if the sin is avoiding God's most precious ones (the poor). Penance is about concrete action to make things right again, not guilt. It as after this has been done that there is the possibility of restoration to community.

She also writes that guilt is the price we are willing to pay in order avoid any actual changes. I think she is so right. She makes the claim that there is a belief within many of us who think "if I just feel guilty enough about doing it, I can keep doing it and keep being forgiven for it." But without penance, a change of behavior, God cannot restore and reconcile us to God and to others. We are cut off from our source of life and remain trapped in our sin.

Finally, my last insight from worship came when, after worship, one man said to me "you don't hear many people apologize these days. Hardly ever hear a person say I'm sorry." It took me several moments to realize he must have been referring to my comment preceding the gospel lesson, apologizing for my lack of familiarity with their tradition. What this reminded me of was something I learned in the first church in which I was appointed. I followed a pastor who did not make any mistakes. The effect on that community of faith when I would say "I'm sorry" was amazing. It was my first year as a pastor on my own. I made LOTS of mistakes. But saying "I'm sorry, please forgive me" followed by earnest attempts to make things right knit us together in amazing ways.

(Maybe this only works in communities of faith, but I have fantasies about what it would like if instead of saying things like "mistake were made," our political leaders would take this learning about the power of actually apologizing to heart....I honestly think it could be transformative. But then again, I believe some pretty incredible stuff, like the resurrection for example...)

United by the Cross...

My husband Ray and I travelled to Washington D.C. yesterday for the Christian Peace Witness for Iraq. The theme is "United by the Cross to End the War."

We gathered with hundreds of others at New York Ave. Presbyterian to worship in simulcast with the thousands at the National Cathedral. The worship was outstanding. One of the first speakers was Celeste Zappala, a United Methodist from FirstUMC Germantown (outside of Philadelphia). Her eldest son Sherwood was a member of the PA Guard, and he was killed in Iraq in 2004 protecting those who were searching for non-existent weapons of mass destruction. Her description of opening the door to a decorated soldier the night she was notified of Sherwood's death was heart rending. I can imagine myself collapsing and screaming as she did. She spoke of her son's vocation as a social worker, his love for his wife and his young son, and how proud she had always been to be his mother. More than 3200 U.S. soldiers have died in this war; Sherwood was among the first 1,000.

She spoke of her faith, and she said something that settled deep in my heart. "O God, war is a failure to love you enough." I came away from the night more deeply convicted that peace is not the easy way out; it is the far more difficult path. It means loving God deeply, strongly, passionately enough to love even our enemies. It means loving God so much that we are willing to see God's image in the face of each person. To consider violence to be not a solution but a sin requires deep, deep love and trust of our Lord.

Christians have two (orthodox) options when it comes to war. They are pacifism and just war theory. Pacifism was the only option for Christians in the first three centuries of Christianity. Jesus' commands to love enemies was taken quite literally, and still is today by many Christians. St. Augustine developed just war theory as the Roman Empire fell. I previously blogged about just war; you may click here to read about these Christian criteria for going to war.

There's just no way around this: the war in Iraq does not meet any orthodox Christian standard for going to war.

So now, more than 3200 U.S. soldiers are dead, and there is no way to estimate how many Iraqi's have died, but the numbers we heard last night were between 500,000-600,000 people. We heard stories from an Iraqi nun, and readings from others in Iraq about going to morgue's to identify loved ones. We heard about how there is hardly a family in Iraq who has not lost someone, if not a family member, a close friend.

I kept thinking about how ridiculous it is that I can choose whether or not to be aware of the death, horror, and destruction that is being wrought with my tax dollars. I try to imagine living and ministering in a context in which every person I know is grieving the death of someone they love; in which every person knows child(ren) who have died because of this awful war. It is heart wrenching beyond words.

The depth of my sorrow for the loss of life on all sides seems beyond expression. The depth of my anger with my government for failing us so miserably, and allowing this killing to happen in my name brings me more shame than I can bear.

Which is why the the phrase "United by the Cross to the End the War" held such meaning for me. I know that Jesus is bearing all of the sorrow, anger, and shame. Words from Scripture like "perfect love casts out fear" settled into my spirit. The passage from Romans 5:1-5 was quoted by Rev. Powell Jackson:

Therefore, since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand; and we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God. And not only that, but we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.

I follow One so committed to love and peace, that he chose to die on a cross rather than lead his people into violence. His followers believed that as Messiah, he was the one to finally free them from foreign domination. They expected Jesus to lead a great armed resistance to the Romans. But that was not God's path. God's path was to be so loving, so vulnerable, so unwilling to use violence, that Jesus died on a criminal's cross... and it is from the Cross of Christ that hope, love, and redemption flow. "United by the Cross to End the War."

This is the only source of my hope. I have no hope that our government is going to act anytime soon. I have no hope that violence and terror are going to end because of the policies of my government or anybody else's. But I do have hope and faith in Christ.

Mayonnaise = Spring

I made broccoli salad again yesterday. In fact, I had to buy more mayonnaise and miracle whip at the store, because I have made broccoli salad so many times in the past month. I also got a craving for potato salad from The Glass Kitchen, so I stopped there on my way home and picked up a quart.

All of this means one thing for certain: Spring is coming. I can go almost entirely without mayonnaise through winter. I don't necessarily eat much of it in the fall either. (The exceptions would be a church dinners.) When I do eat sandwiches, it is very often without mayo.

But in salads....well that is where the mayo gets heavy. I find that salads like potato, broccoli, macaroni, pasta, etc., etc., etc., are really spring and summer dishes.

Everyone has their own indicators that Spring is coming. Mine can be measured by a mayonnaise jar.