Learning how to be hungry...

This last Sunday, I spoke at church about the gospel reading from Matthew 14:13-21, where Jesus feeds 5000 men, not counting women and children.  Here is a good portion of my sermon and notes about it all.


When I read today's gospel, I notice a couple of important points that help us get started with this story.  First is that compassion draws hungry people...even as Jesus was in mourning over his cousin John's beheading and death, he has compassion on the crowd that follows.  He heals them...and they stay with him.  Second is that this was clearly a eucharist story for the early church...a story that would bring some meaning and memories to what they did very often; they shared communion...they made eucharist.


This story also raises a question.  Why did the disciples decide the crowd was hungry? Sure, there was scarcity everywhere but nothing in the text tells us why...I wonder if they were projecting? “I'm tired. I'm hungry. Can we please get rid of these people Jesus?”  After all, it seems like the crowd wasn't too concerned about dinner or sleep.  They would've stayed with Jesus all night.

 In John, Jesus bypasses them and feeds the crowd himself which resonates with the theology of the Johanine community from which the gospel comes...but in Matthew, Jesus says “no—you feed them.”


Our eucharistic theology is so screwed up that we have rules and regulations about who can bless the damn bread! We do the same thing the disciples did... “Lord, send these people to an ordained clergy person who can administer sacrament to them.” And I know we don't do that here at this church...but do we? Do we have our own rules about where and how and by whom God's bread is broken to share?


In the church world, we are so busy building up our baskets, the Lord has gone hoarse from telling us to give these people something to eat. I fear the church, like the disciples, doesn't really have any food to offer anymore. Certainly, with all churches in decline by traditional metrics, everyone else seems to have concluded the same thing.

But, then, maybe we as church aren't the disciples here...maybe we are the crowd...and Jesus is sending people to US to break bread among us. Unlike the crowd here, we are so worried about who made that food and whether or not it was kosher (“Who is the mother of that boy that gave his lunch?!” we would've asked in another gospel's telling of this story...), we would rather starve than be fed. And we encourage the rest of the hungry crowd to abstain. And the Lord who wants to feed us tries in vain as the church in God's name proclaims from pulpits “DON'T EAT THE BREAD!”


Instead of seeing yourself in the shoes of the disciples today, find yourself among the crowd and call that crowd “the church.” If the crowd is the church, then the question becomes who are the disciples who are breaking bread to us in this narrative?

I would like to think they are unchurched people who are learning what real compassion without strings attached looks like.  They are apostates who left the church long ago because of many reasons, but have found that they aren't different people except in ways that make them happier, and gentler, and yes, even godlier.

The disciples are messengers of peace from other world religions and even other Christian denominations we would so easily dismiss, because we think that truth is confined to one outlet...and if we would listen to Truth, in whatever costume it dresses itself up in, we would find that we are less hungry for it after we eat...even as most of us would continue to focus on Jesus as the author and finisher of our faith.


In my take, the disciples are atheists or agnostics who value faith only if it can be questioned and tried...and if we would accept the bread they are offering us, we would find our faith enlivened and relevant because of the questions we would ask of ourselves...or we might find ourselves abandoning our faith in pursuit of truth outside the religious answers we've always known.


Does that scare you? Am I too radical to preach this in a Christian church? I mean, if we all preach this, won't everyone leave the church because they don't need it? I'm suggesting exactly that to you—you don't NEED the church...but we do need each other. And church is as good a place as any to really find each other...but only so long as we tell the truth about ourselves and others. Church has no value simply because it's the church...the value church has is in what people bring to it.


And the story today teaches me that too. Yes, the bread will come from the hands of disciples we are so quick to dismiss and reject. But, more than that, it's important to remember that they aren't providing the food that will feed us all...we are. It's a little counterintuitive in this story isn't it? The disciples don't save the crowd...the crowd has the food it needs to survive. Jesus just gathers it and redistributes it. Now instead of one boy with a sack lunch, they all have plenty with leftovers.


Now, I tend to believe that this is a miracle story based on some historical event rather than a historical report about a miracle event...so the multiplication of the loaves and fishes isn't all that important to me except to teach us about how much we truly have when we only think it is a little. But many if not most of you will say “absolutely not...it's important that Jesus multiplied those loaves and fishes.” And maybe you're right...but even so, it's completely significant that Jesus doesn't turn stones into bread to feed the people. He uses what they have. The crowd has all it needs to be fed. But isn't that how the Divine that we see at work in the world goes about doing things? Doesn't the spirit take a little of what we have, sift it through the hands of some people who might have even tried to just be getting rid of us, pass it among our various crowds—churches, friends, families, dance clubs, supper clubs, schoolrooms, etc—until we are all amazed at how interconnected we are with one another?

I don't know what your idea of eucharist is, but if it is confined to this table at church, you'll always go hungry. God is feeding the world at many tables. Some of them in churches today, yes...but at many other times and in many other places.


What it comes down to for me is this—I do believe. Today, anyway. And I believe in the good news so much that I believe it can withstand any doubt or disbelief and that those who search for truth will find it...and I care very little if they find it in a church or in a bar or in a movie theatre or a synagogue or mosque or a temple or a country chapel or a orchestra concert, or a band rehearsal, or a music festival or any other place. Because I believe...in a God that is found in all of those places by many names and in many different forms.


Does this sound completely apostate and heretical?


That must have been how this story sounded to the first century listeners who heard it. God doesn't masquerade as a carpenter from Galilee. God doesn't call fishermen and publicans. God doesn't party with hookers and get drunk on the weekends like Jesus. That's not how God works, they say. But it is.


So, join the crowd. Seriously...the crowd in this story...and find eucharist outside these walls. You'll starve if you only look for it from the church. Because I fear the church has seen itself as the disciples in this story for so long instead of the crowd, that they've starved to death, rejecting the bread God is bringing through unlikely sources. But the bread is there. It is exactly where Jesus said the kingdom of God is. Among us.


I haven't lost hope. I believe food will come from somewhere...but not until we start asking the right questions of ourselves and others. Not until we start caring about people rather than personal utility or the groups we are trying to use people to build up. And I DO believe that the church of Jesus Christ can be disciples, distributing the bread of hope that the crowd had with them all along right back among them and feeding the hungry. But we'll never get there until we can begin to find our own hunger again and bring our own stories and struggles and questions to the table.

 Let us pray.



May the God who satisfies the hungry soul help us to see what we have need of in our own souls. May She bring out from among us the gifts that will feed not only our souls but the hearts of our neighbors and the stomachs of a physically hungry world. And may we never be satisfied with believing that God is confined by one sack lunch, or by our ideas of propriety, or by our concepts of what is “best” or “right.” In other words, Lord, thy kingdom come and thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. And give us this day our daily bread...

Lent Made Easy

How to Make Lent an Easy Journey in 3 Easy Steps!

A Sermon based on Luke 4:1-13

Lent is that journey that lasts for 40 days, reminding us of the 40 days Jesus spent in the wilderness in preparation (according to the gospel writers) for his earthly ministry.  At the end of those 40 days of solitude and fasting, he faced temptation to fulfill his ministry in various ways--to satisfy his own human desire for food/stuff, power, and comfort.  He made the hard choice...the one that ended in crucifixion, mind you, but Lent doesn't have to be that hard for you.  As you face these same temptations today, here's how to make Lent an easy journey in three easy steps.




1.  Give up candy or something as a pious religious act instead of really contemplating what it means to be hungry and seeing the physical and spiritual hunger of those around you and sitting in the dirt with those who suffer and grieve and hunger.  Use your religious beliefs as an excuse to feed yourself on the hope of a better world some day and ignore the hope of a better world today.  Lent is an easy journey when you make it all about what you can get out of your religion.

2.  Make Lent all about you being in control of your life instead of giving up any kind of advantage you might have in order to serve others.  Worry more about what other people think about you and live in a way that will put on a good face for the world.  Give your life as an offering at all the right temples the world has to offer...make your life one big Facebook timeline that you control the status updates for so that people never have to know the you that struggles, that slips and falls, that grieves, that loses...that way, you'll never have to stop your pursuit of power and fame in order to help someone else.  Unfriend sinners in the Easy-Lent-Facebook of life--surround yourself with people that make you look like the person you want everyone to think you are.  Don't check in at the hospital when you're sick, at the rehab center when you are in recovery, at the thrift shop when you are poor, at the soup kitchen when you are hungry.  You worship control, advantage, and influence now...don't let down your guard this Lent to acknowledge that you don't have it all together.  If you do that, you might find yourself surrounded with other people who don't have it all together either--and you might have to hug someone who isn't very loveable, feed someone who isn't very nice looking, share your story of redemption with someone who desperately needs redemption too.  Lent is an easy journey when you just make it all about how your religion can help you put on a good face for others.

3.  Avoid the cross.  There's an easier path.  The temptation of Jesus to fling himself down from the pinnacle of the temple was an invitation that was echoed again when people at the foot of the cross mocked him saying "he saved others, let him save himself!"  Make your Lent devoid of all of the harsh realities of life...don't let doubt, questions, hardship, or sacrifice be a part of your Lenten journey.  Take the easy answers and insist that everyone else around you do it too.  We don't ask the hard questions.  Dismiss the idea that you might have to endure pain or suffering in this life...do everything you can to avoid it...if you always try to do what is right, loving, humble, and just, you may have to pay a price for it.  If you try to REALLY follow Jesus and really be a disciple, you might say or do things that will make your end like his.  If you insist on the way of peace, you will face violence.  If you eat at the table with Samaritans and lepers and prostitutes and tax collectors: the outsiders and heretics, the untouchables, the unholy, and people with a past, they'll think your just like them...and worse yet, they may start treating you like they treat them.  Constantly remind people that you aren't like "those" people.  Lent is an easy journey when you live your life as an attempt to do things that are easy rather than things that are right.

But if you insist on making the hard journey of Lent...the journey that leads to the cross...

1.  Be willing to hungry.  To be dissatisfied with the hunger in the world.  To be upset that your neighbors are neglected and mistreated and poor and marginalized.  Be willing to give up some of your food, your power, your influence, your privilege to make things better for others.  Don't turn stones into bread just to feed yourself, go dig up stony ground to plant a garden that can feed others.

2.  Worship God instead of your own self-interests.  Realize that God's agenda in the world goes against the grain, and be willing to give up the recognition and religious acclamation that comes with maintaining the status quo in order to see God's will done on Earth as it is in heaven.  Be willing for people to see the real you and be willing to share that authentic self with people who are more like you than you may be comfortable admitting.  Don't bow down to those things that will give you all the power and fame you ever dreamed of, bow down to the God who became "Emmanuel"-God with us-and dream different dreams that include all of the "US" in the world.

3.  Embrace the cross.  Stop looking for shortcuts to glory and realize that sometimes, in the process of pursuing glory, there will first come suffering.  Be willing to be called different, but more importantly, be willing to BE different.  Be willing to be accused of being dangerous, but more importantly, be a real danger to the status quo of a world full of violence, hatred, grudges, discrimination, and religious elitism.  Be willing to be like Jesus...and pay the price for being like Jesus.  Be willing to be hated for loving, called a heretic for preaching truth, be called a sinner for inviting sinners like you to the Lord's table.

And here's why you should choose the hard journey of Lent.  Both journeys will end in death...But only one will end in resurrection. 

I believe the Bible is the Word of God even if fundamentalists say it doesn't count.

My response in a recent Facebook discussion concerning the uncomfortable historical stories in the Bible about God ordering the killing of babies, et. al.

Part of believing that the Bible is the Word of God (not necessarily the words of God) is struggling with these difficult stories in the Bible (old and new testaments) and understanding the mindset of the people who wrote them and lived them. I often think that people ought to read the Bible like they read memoirs...with a healthy dose of caution to not interpret all of history by this one person's account, but to interpret this account in light of all of history.

 I believe that the Bible is the word of God, but definitely not "100% truth" in the way that most fundamentalists mean it. It reveals my Truth to me, so I accept that as a part of my faith journey and identity. Ultimately, as a Christian, I see Jesus of Nazareth as the revelation of God to man, not a book. I don't believe the Bible is the only revelation of God to man or exhaustive or inerrant...I used to...honestly, I'm not sure what I believe dogmatically about these issues--I choose to be a questioning person rather than a dogmatic person. The Bible IS the story of peoples of faith...first, the Hebrews/Jews and then the Christians...I think the Truth is what those communities of faith bring to those stories. Unfortunately, those communities are a product of their time (and, unfortunately today, behind the times...but this was always the case-note the prophets in the Old Testament) and so you are right on to call out the xenophobia, racism, sexism, and power issues throughout the Bible. Beyond those cultural trappings, though, there is a struggle within the Bible itself...the story of the empowerment of women in the gospels and in the early church, side by side with Paul's (or the author writing in the name of the Apostle) misogynistic (and contradictory!) teachings on the role of women in the church...the laws of the Old Testament commanding the welcoming of strangers side by side with stories of the Israelites seeking to conquer their enemies (and the inflated, pseudo-historic accounts of their successes and failures in those endeavors), the teachings of Jesus against religious authority and the early church's struggle to have organization without institutional power and corruption...the picture in the Old Testament (and new at times) of a forgiving and gracious God beside a God who holds children accountable for the misdeeds of their ancestors. The Bible is the story of God trying to find humanity and it reflects the mess God finds us in, I believe. I think the nugget of truth is beyond all the cultural trappings and myth...we must constantly demyth (take the nugget of truth in the story out of the context of patriarchy, unscientific ideas, ancient concepts) and remyth (find the truth for us today). We do this with all historical writings, why should we not do this with the Bible? Fundamentalists would argue that the Bible is the Word (and, for them, the words) of God and shouldn't be examined this way. I say that we do a disservice to the scriptures and to God when we fail to truly study the Bible as both a historic and spiritual book. I think we should use the stories of sacred scriptures (and I would include others beside the Bible, for fundamentalists exist in every religion) like a lamppost, to guide our path...not like a drunk uses a lamppost--to prop himself up. Also, final note, the concept of "hell" in the Bible is pretty vague and includes ideas relating to time and eternity, so I don't fear for anyone in terms of hell the way that most Christians might...however, I do believe there are hells all around us and if Christians would spend more time rescuing people from those hells instead of trying to get people to sign on to a creed, we'd see a better world.

What I Learned on my Summer Vacation

This July I went to Poza Rica, Veracruz in Mexico to visit my boyfriend who lives there.  This was my second trip to Mexico.  Six years ago I went to Durango on a mission trip with my Southern Baptist church.  That trip and those people (both my fellow mission-trip-ers and the Mexican people we met) forever marked me.  I've loved Mexico ever since.  A month after my second trip, I have had time to reflect on what I learned on my vacation.

On this recent trip, I was reminded again and again that the man visiting Mexico in 2012 is a completely different person than the boy who went in 2006.  Perhaps because of that, I found the lessons I took away and the way in which I was "marked" this time, to be of a different variety than before.  So here, in three lessons, is what I learned:

We don't need to "help" people by "reaching" them...we need to connect with them because we need them as much as they need us.

MISSIONS is a word used by American Christians to mean a few different things.  Mostly we use it to refer either to service (serving the poor, painting houses, building sanctuaries) or evangelism (proselytizing).  When I last went, it was on a trip to what the SBC had taken to call "unreached people groups"--ethnic groups of people who's knowledge of The Gospel (copyright SBC?) was at an extremely low level.  When we got to Durango, we found a group of people who identified by and large as committed Catholics.  Rancheros where the main attraction of the little town was the church.  But of course, Catholicism didn't count in our version of the gospel.  This time around I realized how dumb that concept of evangelism is...how self-centered, proud, and egocentric...the idea that American Christians somehow need to "help" these people who aren't Christian enough in their Christianity.  Because their cultural version of Christianity isn't pure Christianity like ours...you know, the kind that pledges allegiance to the American flag at Vacation Bible School (an awkward practice when you take your VBS on the road to another country), the kind that thinks the "old songs" are ones written in 1950 and published by Stamps Baxter.  I learned on this trip that my cultural Christianity is important to me because Christ transforms culture and culture is just another way of God's creative work continuing in and among us, God's children.  At the same time, the cultures of other people, Christian and otherwise, are not in competition with my faith but are necessary to enrich it.  We ought to send American Christians across the world on mission trips...the mission should be to learn how to be better Christians by observing how other brothers and sisters across the world do this thing we call "following Jesus."

Our immigration policy is immoral

This isn't a lesson about immigration reform, who to vote for in the coming election, or how to protect our borders.  I don't even know the answers to those questions.  I'm saying that we are asking the wrong questions.  While we debate issues of national security, visit the home of your neighbors who don't have all the right papers in their chest of drawers and ask about the fears that grip them when it comes to their family, their immigration status, and the economic and social climate in their home country.  While we talk about amnesty and obeying the law, go look into the face of a mother who wants her children to be safe and successful and the eyes of a young man who dreams of doing something significant and decide for yourself if geography is enough reason to ignore those wants and dreams.  Our immigration policy in this country is confusing, unjust, unfair, imbalanced, broken, and ironic (as in great grandchildren of illegal immigrants, i.e. white people, deciding who gets to stay or go).  But beyond all of that political discussion, it isn't just politics and policy--it's people...and how we treat these neighbors of ours is immoral and wrong.  "When a stranger sojourns with you in your land, you shall not do him wrong.  You shall treat the stranger who sojourns with you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God"  -God.  (Leviticus 19:33-34)

Church should be like a Mexican karaoke bar

One night I went out to a karaoke bar in Poza Rica.  We drank tequila and people sang.  And drank.  And sang.  And drank.  And drank.  But there was a marked difference between karaoke here and there.  When the people in the bar knew the song, they sang out.  Loudly.  And as the night wore on, louder.  These people who didn't know each other threw off their inhibitions to enjoy what they shared in common: love of a song.  Those who didn't know the words were caught up in an atmosphere of community.  The person with the mic was drowned out by those nearest me singing their hearts out.  Church should be like that.  People who might not normally become a community gathering in joy around something in common...in our case, Jesus.  Singing our hearts out, unconcerned about how we look because it's about the song.  Not reverently listening to one person perform, but becoming part of the performance ourselves, thereby lifting up the efforts of the leader but drowning them out as our song becomes a song of community...a chorus, not a solo.  Nobody worried about singing too many verses.  Those who don't know the song we're singing, still caught up in the atmosphere of being a community.  No one bored.  No one feeling awkward.  No one excluded or left out (after all, if you don't know the songs we're singing, go pick your own and sing your heart out too!).  Joy.  Celebration.  Communion.  Singing.  Fellowship.  Diversity.  Loud people and quietly smiling people.  People apologizing to the next table for a friend who is a little over eager.  All of these things should mark the community that follows Christ.

So many other lessons I learned on my trip--some too close to the heart to share here.  But above all I learned that people aren't so different from each other.  Language, culture, karaoke song choices, religions...they divide a humanity that is afraid to look at "the other" and see themselves.  Perhaps, if we looked at each other and loved what we saw, we'd learn to love who God has made us too...for in each of us resides the image of God.  In each of us also is the need to stop, rest, and declare with God about God's creation, "it is good."

A New Wind is Blowing in East Texas

 

May 20, 2012 was not Pentecost Sunday.  May 27, 2012 was.  May 27 was also Memorial Day weekend and Woodland Christian Church in Longview, Texas likes our high holy days to be well attended.  So we just moved Pentecost up a week.  Because that’s how we roll.  We (basically) follow the lectionary and we sing the doxology but we are far from dyed-in-the-wool liturgical.  So moving Pentecost up works for us.

May 20, 2012 was also the day of a very important vote in the life of our church.  Not realizing it while scheduling everything in the month of May (do you have any idea how much stuff goes on just in May alone?!), Pentecost Sunday and the Sunday that we voted on whether or not to amend our constitution to become officially Open and Affirming fell on the same day. 

Without being dramatic with the suspense, I’ll simply tell you: the vote passed with more than the 2/3rds congregational vote required to amend the constitution.  The vote is historic.  We are the first church in East Texas to officially declare themselves to be Open and Affirming (there may be a very select few other congregations who might fit the bill, but the denominational requirements differ or do not require a congregational vote of this nature, perhaps).  We are the 5^th Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) church in Texas to declare O&A and the 20^th in the South Central Conference (comprised of several states, including Texas) of the United Churches of Christ to do so (we are part of the 25% of that conference who now declare ONA). 

The same day of our vote, historic First Presbyterian Church in downtown Longview voted by almost the same percentage as our vote to leave the Presbyterian Church, USA (PCUSA) in protest over the denomination allowing the ordination of non-celibate gay and lesbian clergy.  But that vote is just more of the same in East Texas.  Why it makes news is confusing since it’s just part of the stale, old wind that’s been blowing around for years (in East Texas and the church).  It’s part of the same tired arguments about taking a stand against the homosexual agenda or bowing to culture or holiness or purity or whatever other excuse we make to marginalize groups of people.  But there is a fresh Wind blowing.  The Holy Spirit is moving…even amid and among the tired, stale winds that threaten to calm the fierce movement of the Holy Spirit.  And the Holy Spirit, well, She’s never been known to back down or settle down.

Here’s what’s most surprising about that historic vote Sunday.  It didn’t feel historic.  Not for me (Maybe others will comment about how it felt for them).  It didn't feel life changing.  I heard no rushing mighty wind.  I saw no flames of fire flickering and dancing unexpectedly in the room.  I felt no breeze.  I heard no strange languages.  I honestly felt relief.  Relief that we can finally put this issue that is contentious in Christendom today exactly where it belongs—in the past.  Relief that we as a church can finally be honest and proud of who we are because individuals in our body had the courage to say “enough of this wrangling over words and statements…let’s be clear and let’s do this because these people we are talking about are our family!”  And we did.  

The Earth did not move.  There was no crowd outside stopping in their tracks asking “what meaneth this?”  Actually, some just clapped and then we went to lunch (or a board meeting)!  Just like every Sunday.  Because what we voted on wasn’t to fundamentally change anything about our church.  It was just to tell people who we are—who God has fit us together to be. 

But that lack of amazing fanfare doesn’t fool me at all…this was a work of God’s Spirit and it was mighty indeed.  The Wind blowing through our church on Sunday morning isn’t finished blowing.  People will take notice of this.  They may talk about it.  And even in churches and groups where people gather to criticize our church’s stance, there may be some gay or lesbian in the closet listening…some young questioning teen or some straight teen who just can’t get their head around why the church won’t fully include their gay friends.  And they’ll hear the message the Spirit of God was saying at Woodland Christian Church on Sunday: “Don’t remember the former things or think about the past.  I’m doing a new thing—it’s springing up now, can’t you see it?  I am making a road in the wilderness and streams in the desert to give drink to my people, the people I formed for myself so that they will declare my praise.   Hey! Everyone who thirsts, come to the waters!  And you who are flat broke, come buy and eat the wine and the milk that are free…” (my paraphrase from Isa. 43 and Isa. 55)

Don’t be mistaken, justice isn’t always established by far reaching legislation and legal mandates. Sometimes it is established in meekness. Sometimes it doesn’t come at a great denominational meeting in a big city with lots of delegates speaking for lots of people…Sometimes it is established in a small corner of the world in a little church in East Texas.  Justice doesn’t always fix every problem, sometimes it raises our awareness of other problems and drives us to do something about them too!  Sometimes a few people in an upper room get a breath of Wind and are set on fire to leave those four walls and go change the world—one moment of justice, one act of mercy, one statement of grace at a time. 

Ms. Nancy, the "kitchen queen" at Woodland!  

I could not begin to say it any better than my dear friend, Ms.Nancy, the “kitchen queen” at our church, said it: 

 “We are starting a new chapter in the life of Woodland Church.  There should not be,nor should there ever have been any ‘us’ and ‘them.’  We are all children of God.  Let’s move forward as ‘we’ and ‘our church.’  After much prayer and personal soul searching,I am certain we took the right path.  Let us all work together to build ‘our’ church, and be open to being led by Him in whatever plan he has for our future. Welcome to all my precious friends…!!”

Amen!  And thanks be to God!