Good Friday 2016

Good Friday 2016 I recently read a theological book that stated that God truly abandoned Jesus on the cross on Good Friday. But because of that abandonment, God never truly abandons us. While this is a valid theological perspective, I respectfully disagree. Now, there are plenty others who abandon Jesus. Judas is the first, leaving the Last Supper to betray Jesus to the authorities who want him dead. Peter abandons him by deny him thrice. Pretty much all his disciples besides John and the women abandon him as he is being crucified. Certainly each and every one of us has abandoned Jesus at one time or another and for most of us, it is not even a life-or-death kind of situation. It is usually through apathy, laziness, self-conceit. But abandonment is not the only story that is being told this day. There is also the story of abiding. Abiding is the exact opposite of abandoning. It is accepting or bearing, dwelling with, remaining and continuing. The gospel of John, out of all the gospels, lifts up this notion of abiding. We see it in the well-known verses of John 15:4-7: “Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me. 5 I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing. 6 Whoever does not abide in me is thrown away like a branch and withers; such branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned. 7 If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask for whatever you wish, and it will be done for you.” Jesus shows us, today and always, that abiding is the very nature of God. And we are most fully God’s children, when we abide too. Perhaps this is part of why we gather here today. Because today, we choose not to abandon; we choose to abide—watching and remaining, bearing with and dwelling in pain, abiding even when it is “breathless and it’s empty”. In closing, I’ll share with you a Good Friday blessing by artist and United Methodist elder Jan Richardson. It is titled What Abides For Good Friday You will know this blessing by how it does not stay still, by the way it refuses to rest in one place. You will recognize it by how it takes first one form, then another: now running down the face of the mother who watches the breaking of the child she had borne, now in the stance of the woman who followed him here and will not leave him bereft. Now it twists in anguish on the mouth of the friend whom he loved; now it bares itself in the wound, the cry, the finishing and final breath. This blessing is not in any one of these alone. It is what binds them together. It is what dwells in the space between them, though it be torn and gaping. It is what abides in the tear the rending makes.

Lent 5C

Lent 5C March 13, 2016 This past week, I watched the series finale of the PBS show Downton Abbey. Like many people, one of my favorite characters in the show has been Maggie Smith’s character, the Dowager Countess of Downton; she is well known for her sharp tongue and her impressive one-liners! So it is no surprise that one of my favorite moments in the finale featured the Dowager Countess. The Dowager’s two servants, Spratt the butler and Denker her ladies maid, have had a long standing rivalry. In the final episode we learn that Spratt has taken a moonlighting job as an advice columnist for a ladies magazine. When Denker maliciously spills the beans to her ladyship in an attempt to get Spratt fired, the Dowager reacts with laughter and the suggestion that they consult Spratt in all areas of fashion and entertaining. When Spratt confronts Denker about this encounter he says to her, “You made a mistake, Ms. Denker, in your haste to be rid of me….Her ladyship never likes to be predictable.” In our readings for today, we see that God, much like the Dowager of Downtown, also never likes to be predictable. First we have the prophet’s words in Isaiah that are attributed to God even as the prophet is reminiscing about God’s saving acts in the parting of the Red Sea at Israel’s exodus from Egypt: “Do not remember the former things,/or consider the things of old./I am about to do a new thing;/now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” Then we have the gospel reading from John today, which is a scene full of the unepredictable. First, you need to know a bit of the context. Just one chapter before this in John’s gospel is the episode when Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead. As a result of this, gossip is flying all around the countryside about who Jesus is and what he has done. As a result of that, the Jewish leaders decide that they are going to kill Jesus (and Lazarus too, for good measure!) because they are afraid that all the attention he is garnering is going to bring the Romans down upon all of them to wipe them all out. When Jesus gets wind of this plot, he takes his disciples and they go out to the middle of nowhere for a bit, but then, unexpectedly, they return to Bethany, the scene of Lazarus’s raising, where Lazarus, Martha, and Mary throw a party for Jesus just before the Passover. And this party takes an unpredictable turn, as Jesus is gathered with Lazarus, the source of all the hullaballoo, Martha, the consummate hostess who has also recently proclaimed her faith in Jesus as the Messiah, Mary, the quintessential disciple, and Judas, who John reminds us, will betray Jesus and is a thief, and ostensibly John, the beloved disciple who is narrating. It is a party that becomes a sort of funeral rite; Jesus, still very much alive, with his closest friends gathered around him is anointed for burial by Mary, who breaks open an expensive bottle of perfume over his feet and then wipes it with her hair. Well, that’s certainly one way to kill a party! Another unpredictable aspect of this scene is that it is Mary who does the anointing. All throughout history, women are not the ones who anoint. Men anoint other men—Samuel anoints Saul; male popes anoint emperors. The women anoint for burial. And then, Jesus, who is all about giving money to the poor, gets into an argument with Judas about the extravagance of Mary’s gift—most unexpected. And after this scene is concluded, Jesus and his disciples head directly to Jerusalem, where Jesus makes his triumphal entry (that we will celebrate next week on Palm Sunday). All throughout scripture, God acts unpredictably, using the people we would least expect to bring about God’s purposes and doing the things we would least expect to accomplish it. Moses—a murderer, leads the Israelites out of slavery. Jacob—a liar and a cheat becomes the founder of a nation. Abraham and Sarah—too old to have children—whose descendants number the stars. Mary—an average peasant girl who is brave enough to say yes. Paul—one of the highest, most pedigreed Jews who gives it all up to follow Jesus and proclaim the gospel. Which will culminate in two weeks when we see the expectation of death overturned by God’s unpredictable action of the resurrection—breaking into history, our stories and our lives. So today, as we live into this final week in Lent and prepare to follow the way of the cross through Holy Week, we might consider, what are the unexpected, unpredictable ways that God continues to act in our lives and in our world, even now? Let us look this week, beginning in the ordinary meal that we share today, for the predictably unpredictable God--who shows up where we least expect and who uses those we would least imagine. This week, may you be open to the unpredictable God, who continually surprises us with where God shows up, who God uses, and what God accomplishes!

Lent 3C

The Third Sunday in Lent Year C February 28, 2016 I’ve been thinking a great deal about idolatry lately. It started last week, with several things coinciding. The first was our session #2 of the Crazy Christian series by Presiding Bishop Michael Curry that we are discussing on Sunday mornings in adult formation. In the session two video titled “It’s easy and It’s hard,” Curry continues his talk on following Jesus by telling the story of when the children of Israel create the Golden Calf in the wilderness, making an idol for themselves to worship when Moses has been away for too long communing with God and they become anxious in his absence. Curry says that “an idol is a god created in my image to serve my self-centered purpose—a quick fix, an easy solution instead of the hard, important work of following the way of God into the life of a new humanity. An idol is anything that substitutes for God and idolatry is what leads to social injustice because it’s the world built around me, not built and ordered the way God would dream and intend for it to be.” Then I went to hear a lecture at Millsaps about a group of 28 Methodist ministers who published a statement right after the riots at Ole Miss in the early 60’s that challenged the status quo of segregation in the United Methodist church. Of the 28 pastors, only 8 remained in Mississippi in ministry. My grandfather, N.A. Dickson, was one of those 8. The speaker, Joe Reiff, who has written a book on this Born of Conviction statement and the events that preceded and followed it in the white Methodist church in that time, said in his lecture that in that time and place, maintaining the white life-style (through separate but equal) became an idol for most people in that church. So I’ve been pondering how and what I make an idol in my own life. What sorts of ways and things do I use to create god in my own self-interested image to serve my own purpose? And I’ve been thinking about the ways that different groups—families, churches, the people of a state or a nation—also create and work to preserve their own idols. In our epistle reading for today, Paul is writing to the Corinthians about the challenges of engaging in the life of the culture around us and how that often can lead to idolatry. In chapters 8 Paul writes to address the Corinthian position that attendance at the local idol cults are not incompatible with being in Christ. Paul expresses concern for the whole community, and he writes about how this practice has created confusion and division in the life of the community. And he culminates in today’s passage where he harkens back to the story of the Israelites in the wilderness, how they are saved by God and brought through the Red Sea but they fall into the practice of idolatry. He reminds the Corinthians of the heart of the good news: “God is faithful” and concludes with a line that is left out of our reading for today: “Therefore, my dear friends, flee from the worship of idols.” In my own ponderings and examinations this week, I have discovered that it is much easier for me to identify idols in culture or systems (such as church, state, or nation) than it is for me to identify idols in my own life. But what is important for us to remember is that we make idols when we are insecure, afraid, restless and searching for answers. Just like the children of Israel in the wilderness, who create their idol because Moses is gone and they become anxious, we make our idols to preserve a sense of control. We make our idols when we forget to remember the most important aspect of good news that Jesus came and revealed (and continues to reveal): that God is faithful. Part of the call to repentance this Lent could very well be examining all areas of our lives, looking in the dark corners where we have set up the idols that we worship in place of God, idols that we create and control, that do our own will and give us a false sense of security. What do those look like in your own life? Is it money or success? Is it academic achievement? Is it a solid 401k for retirement? Is it how your house compares to your neighbor’s or what kind of vacation you will take? Is it your children’s sporting events? Is it your college football team? Is it your family or circle of friends? Is it “the way we’ve always done things?” Do you make an idol of the past? Or how about future possibilities? Take some time this week and look into those dark corners of your lives where your idols dwell. Shine the light on them, and then lay them before the True and Living God who is revealed in Jesus Christ as a part of your Lenten repentance. “Therefore, my friends, flee from the worship of idols.” And rest in the assurance of the good news—that God is faithful.

Last Sunday after the Epiphany Year C

The Last Sunday after the Epiphany—Year C February 7, 2016 Once upon a time there was a pastor of a church. This pastor was meeting with a young couple who were newish members of the church, and the pastor was astonished as the couple told him about how important attending worship was to them. The talked to him about how, when one of their children was sick, they would get together on Sunday morning to do a quick spiritual assessment—each discussing the week that they had been through and the week to come, and then together they would decide “who needed church more.” “Church is what helps us make sense of our lives,” they explained, “it’s that pick-me-up that connects us with God and our calling and sends us back into the week.” The pastor went on to wonder what our churches would be like if everyone looked at attending weekly worship in the same spirit. What would our churches look like if at least half of our people had the same outlook? How about even one quarter? It’s an interesting story to think about this week in light of the gospel story of the Transfiguration as well as something to think about as we head into the season of Lent. How might our lives be transformed if we commit ourselves to weekly worship? The story of the Transfiguration is actually a story about worship. In it we see that Jesus’s prayer is what brings about his transfiguration, and we see how the disciples are absorbed into Jesus’s prayer to behold the glory of God in and through Jesus. This is why we worship. It is in the hope of beholding just a glimpse of the glory of God, to be fed and transformed and sent back into our dusty, tired lives just a little bit brighter and shinier. But most of us, the disciples included, become afraid when we see these glimpses of God’s glory, and we try to build structures to explain and contain it rather than giving ourselves over to it. If we are open to allowing ourselves to being transformed, then “worship can be the place where we hear God’s voice, focus on the nature of grace as we experience it in the cross, meet each other in prayer and song, and leave renewed for lives of meaning and purpose that come through service to neighbor.” So today, I want to offer you a challenge. Would you consider to take on as your Lenten discipline this year weekly attendance at worship if you aren’t already doing that? Are you willing to take that risk of showing up every week, of opening yourself to the possibility of being seeing a glimpse of God’s glory in this place and therefore being a little bit transfigured, transformed? And if you are aren’t willing, then ask yourself and answer truthfully, “Why not?” There are five spiritual practices that are the basic practices of Christian discipleship. 1. Pray daily. 2. Worship weekly. 3. Serve joyfully. 4. Learn constantly. And 5. Give generously. Each of these practices helps us to grow and to stretch in our following of Jesus and through practicing each of them, gradually over time we become transformed “like water over a rock.” If weekly worship is something that you are already doing, then perhaps you would consider focusing intentionally on another one of these practices as your Lenten discipline. (Repeat them). Because the point of discipleship, the point of worship, is actually transformation. In our vestry planning retreat this weekend, our vestry watched a video by Mary Parmer from the Diocese of Texas on her program Invite-Welcome-Connect for churches to live more fully into their mission of engaging in the transformative hospitality of the gospel of Jesus Christ. At the end of this video, Mary speaks specifically of transformation saying, “Transformation happens in our lives when we are able to see old things in new ways full of new possibilities. Jesus calls us to live transformed lives, and to see others in a new way, in the way of love. And we are transformed when we can adopt new behaviors, new attitudes. Imagine what our churches would be like if they were filled with people who had the ability to see others, who stop looking at others through the narrow lens of their own world. People who have been transformed by the grace of God….” On this Last Sunday after the Epiphany, as we head into the wilderness of Lent, may God shine God’s light upon you and upon this church, that we may be transformed in and through the glory of God’s love.

Ash Wednesday 2016

Ash Wednesday 2016 Not too long ago, I was driving out to Gray Center for a meeting, and I decided to listen to a podcast. It was a bright, cold day, and the drive was easy, so I listened to Krista Tippet’s program On Being, when she made a live interview of singer, songwriter, poet and “Quaker celebrity” Carrie Newcomer. The two women spoke, and interspersed throughout the interview, Newcomer would sing some of her songs that Tippett requested. As I turned onto Way Road, Carrie Newcomer began to sing one of her newer songs called “Every Little Bit” and to my surprise, I found myself weeping as I listened to it. I finished the song, and I turned off the podcast, so I could pull myself together as I prepared to arrive at Gray Center, but since then, I’ve finished the podcast and revisited the song a number of times to try to discover what was going on in my soul in that particular moment. It’s still a beautiful song to me—the chorus goes something like: “There it is just below the surface of things,/ In a flash of blue, and the turning of wings./ I drain the glass, drink it down, every moment of this,/ Every little bit of it, every little bit.” Newcomer sings in a beautiful, mellow voice about the beauty that is present all throughout life, but most especially when we are aware of the finitude of life-- as she sings: “in the curious promise of limited time.” Today is the day that we dwell with this notion of the “curious promise of limited time.” We look at our lives; we ask God to give us a clean heart that we might begin again. But the purpose of this beginning again is not to be better people who are more virtuous, who eat less chocolate and carbs and drink less Diet Coke. The purpose of this beginning again is to once again steep ourselves in the never-ending and never-failing love of God as we did in our baptism and to come out of it awake and alive and transformed to go out into the world and spread the good news of God’s love. I’m going to borrow a line from my husband here and tell you that God is not going to love you any more than God already does if you stop drinking Diet Coke. God’s love for you is already more than you can ask or imagine. Rather than focusing on what you are going to “give up this Lent”, maybe find a way to develop a practice that helps you examine what you choose to do with the “curious promise of limited time?” At the root of the concept of “giving up” or “taking on” something for Lent is the notion of spiritual discipline (which is actually the same root word as “disciple”.) On Sunday I spoke about 5 spiritual disciplines that help us be transformed more and more into the image and likeness of Christ, and I encourage y’all to consider taking one of these up for Lent. 1. Pray Daily. 2. Worship weekly. 3. Learn constantly. 4. Serve joyfully. 5. Give generously. Pray daily is the one that I am taking on for Lent. Now don’t get me wrong. The act of giving up different foods or drinks can be a helpful spiritual practice. It is the spiritual discipline of self-denial, and it is something that our culture is deeply in need of. But it you do choose that practice, then I would urge you to consider balancing that practice with something that helps you to be more steeped in the love of God this season and to help you consider what you do with the “curious promise of limited time.” “There it is just below the surface of things,/ In a flash of blue, and the turning of wings./ I drain the glass, drink it down, every moment of this,/ Every little bit of it, every little bit.”

2nd Sunday after the Epiphany Year C

2nd Sunday after the Epiphany-Year C January 17, 2016 One of my diocesan responsibilities is to serve on the Presbyter’s Discernment Committee, which is a sub-committee of the Commission on Ministry, who exists to advise the Bishop in different matters of ministry. Last week, the members of the Presbyter’s Discernment committee gathered at Gray Center, and we met with a group of people who had all been through their parish discernment committees because they were discerning a call to the priesthood. I’ve had the privilege of doing this difficult and rewarding work for a number of years now, but this year was the first year that we had several people who were discerning a call to the bi-vocational priesthood. In years past, we have been able to identify what are the gifts of people being called to the priesthood. We want people who are comfortable being in front of other people, some administrative/organizational skills, maybe a little dash of charisma…..But then when we started talking and thinking about the bi-vocational priesthood, a new development in the life of our diocese, we were stumped. We didn’t know what kind of gifts we were looking for because it is a brand new thing, and none of us really knows what it looks like yet. But what we found is that as we interviewed people, we began to discover their own unique giftedness, and we began to imagine how those gifts might fill a need in the church. And then this week, I was privileged to sit with the Bishop as he told the folks whether or not they would get to proceed on toward ordination, and I was given the task of lifting up to each of them the giftedness that we discovered in them (whether they be called to ordained ministry or not). It was a beautiful and life-giving opportunity for me to hold up a mirror and show folks their own giftedness. Our culture lifts up particular gifts and in that lifting up, it shows what that culture values most. An academic culture lifts up intelligence as giftedness. Some business cultures lift up ruthlessness as a gift. Others value charisma. Families do this too. Some value athletic ability; others value kindness. Different groups seek out different types of “giftedness” that they think will support the values of that particular group. But Paul is saying something very different in our epistle for today. He is saying that, in the church at Corinth, which has been arguing about whether or not there is a hierarchy of gifts, and in the Christian church in general, every single person who is baptized is gifted. Every person who has been baptized and who confesses Jesus as Lord, has been brought to that point through the gift of the Holy Spirit. And each person has also been given unique spiritual gifts that are to be used for the good of the whole community, and all the gifts have been equally activated by the grace of God and are equally valued and valuable to the church. On this weekend of our annual parish meeting, this passage offers us an invitation to ask ourselves what are the gifts that are valued in the life of this parish? One that I have encountered is involvement through fellowship. Another is a generosity of spirit to one another. But here’s the flip side of that question. What are gifts that this parish doesn’t always recognize, can’t always see, doesn’t particularly value? What are the gifts of those among us that we might be overlooking because they are not what we expect? And how might we begin to seek out those gifts that don’t look like what we expect but are equally valued and given by God and to be used for the good of this community? We have a responsibility as individuals, through our baptismal covenant, to offer the gifts that God has given us, and we have a responsibility to seek out those gifts in others in our community and invite them to share them. So I invite you to think about these questions this week: “What gifts have been given you by the Holy Spirit that could be used more fully for the common good? Are you offering them already, and if not, why not? Is there a gift or a potential in someone else that you have noticed that you might be able to call attention to and nurture?

First Sunday after the Epiphany Year C--The Baptism of our Lord

The First Sunday after the Epiphany—Year C January 10, 2016 When I was a teenager, one of my younger brothers got a rock tumbler for some Christmas. I had never encountered a rock tumbler before, so I followed the process curiously. My brother added some broken old dull rocks into the compact machine. He added water and some sort of abrasive grit. He plugged it into the wall in the formal living room—the remotest part of the house. He turned it on, and he left it running in there for an entire month. If I was very quiet, I could hear the sound of the machine running and the rocks tumbling from my room. When the month was over, my brother opened the machine and retrieved the rocks, and I was amazed to behold how those broken, old, dull rocks had been transformed into shiny, beautiful polished rocks whose unique character was much more evident. I think about that rock tumbler all the time because I think it is a useful image for what happens in Christian community. Whether it is through the community of church, of households or families, circles of friends or even work communities, we are like those broken old rocks thrown together into a tight space and left to tumble against each other--mixed with a bunch of grit--and knocking off all the sharp edges. It is not an especially comfortable process, but it is effective when the Holy Spirit is in the mix. In our baptism, we make promises to live our lives a certain way. We fall short of those again and again and again, but instead of giving up, we renew our promises (both when new people are being baptized and at other times of the year, like today, when our prayer book encourages us to do so.) Being in that rock tumbler with one another is really hard and sometimes discouraging, and so it is important for us to remember why we do this uncomfortable difficult work and to remember that we really are all in this together. But that is not the end of the good news this Sunday. There is another very important part. When Jesus emerges from the water of his baptism, after all those who were there also had been baptized, the Holy Spirit descended upon him…like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” Our baptisms and the renewal of our baptisms all find their meaning in Jesus’s own baptism. God has also claimed each one of us, each and every one of you, as God’s beloved, with whom God is well pleased. We are God’s beloved even when we are old, dull-colored, broken and jagged rocks, thrown together in the rock tumbler; and we are God’s beloved when we are smoothed and polished through our common life together. No matter what, you are God’s beloved. No matter what, the person whom you find to be most infuriating and difficult (in the rock tumbler of Christian community) is God’s beloved. The person who posts the obnoxious things on Facebook is God's beloved. The one whose bumper stickers you don't agree with is God's beloved. The family member who you just can't forgive is God's beloved. The person here in this church who just rubs up against you the wrong way is God's beloved. We accept this about ourselves and each other every time we renew our baptismal vows (which is why we need to do it so frequently)--promising to seek and serve Christ in all persons and love our neighbors as ourselves; promising to respect the dignity of every human being--and we accept this about ourselves every time we celebrate Eucharist. This past week, I was able to be a participant in a Eucharist (with no preaching or sacramental responsibilities which is a rare gift for us). The celebrant, the Very Rev. Billie Abram, told us that she regularly makes retreat at the monastic community of the Society of St. John the Evangelist in Cambridge, MA, an Episcopal monastery. And Billie told us that in their Eucharistic celebrations, the brothers have added a line that may be included in the next prayer book revision. When the celebrant holds up the consecrated bread and wine in the Eucharist, he says “Behold what you are; become what you receive.” In and through our baptism, we are accepting God’s claim on and of us as God’s beloved. In and through our baptism, we are becoming the body and blood of Christ in this world. In and through our weekly celebrations of Eucharist, we are becoming more and more of what we already are; being transformed more and more into what we have already received—those made worthy of being called God’s beloved. “Behold what you are; become what you receive.”