Trinity is a verb?

     As an editorial note, I can't believe the first sentence of this quotes Wikipedia. I found that my personal church history collection was sorely lacking and realize I must have relied heavily upon the library at seminary to get me through my history courses!
     According to Wikipedia, since the time of Pope John XXII (1316-1334) the Sunday after Pentecost has been celebrated in the church as Holy Trinity Sunday. The doctrine of the Trinity is a tricky doctrine in Christianity, even though it has been an official teaching of the Church since the Council of Nicaea (325 a.d.) because the Trinity as such is not named in scripture.
     In my study of scripture, in thinking about the gospel text from Matthew 28, and the creation story from Genesis 1, I have come to think about the Trinity less as a noun, and more as a verb. In a brief lesson in English, let me remind you about our grammar.
First a word about nouns.
Nouns are words used as subjects or objects of verbs, they are the thing acting or being acted upon; they are often described as 'people, places, or things.' Here are some examples of Trinity used as a noun:
The Holy Trinity created the cosmos, or The Holy Trinity is a mysterious part of Christian doctrine, or Faith is given to Christians as a gift from the Holy Trinity, etc. In each of these examples the Trinity is used as an identifier of God, or as an idea, or as a whole person, and none of these statements is incorrect.
Now a word about verbs.
Verbs are words used to describe action, state, or relation between a subject and an object. Here are some examples of Trinity used as a verb:
Her heart was Trinitized; or I Trinity, therefore I am; or He Trinities his life. In each of these examples the Trinity is used to describe a state of being, or a passive or active action, and none of these statements is incorrect.
Well, not incorrect strictly speaking in rules of grammar. Trinitized and Trinitied are both underlined in red squiggly lines on my screen. And the sentences don't make much sense because we don't use the word Trinity as a verb and have no frame of reference by which to make meaning.
      However, in thinking about the Trinity I have decided it is impossible to simply use descriptive words because the Trinity is never static, cannot be pinpointed, and refuses to be defined. With that being said, this is how I attempt to describe Trinity:
The Trinity is that which gives and sustains life. The Trinity is what enables us to love, to believe, to doubt, to feel. The Trinity moves in our flow of time while remaining outside the constraints of this world. He/She/It brings life from death and light to darkness. The Trinity is simultaneously spontaneous and calculated. The Trinity knows the ending of the story and continues to give creation freedom to live and play out the present...
     It is impossible to describe. So, I concede to the impossibility of the mystery and I leave you with one final thought:
Life Trinities and the Trinity lives so that all may come to know, love, and believe Trinity.

    

What is your story?

from www.readersdigest.co

     This Memorial Day weekend marks the last installment in our series based on The Story, which we have been reading through as a congregation this past year. The journey has given us a good, overall look at scripture in chronological order from Genesis through Revelation, and we will be doing a re-cap of the overall theme of scripture.
     It was difficult to choose just one passage of scripture that gets to the heart of the whole, but I settled on a lovely passage from Ephesians 2. For me, it is the perfect marriage of the whole of scripture, Old and New Testsaments, law and gospel, judgement and grace. You see, as I read and think of scripture on the whole, the common thread is all about God's love and grace for creation.

But God, who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us even when we were dead through our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the ages to come he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness towards us in Christ Jesus. 

For now there is really little more to say - for what can you add to such wonderful news? God loves us - even in our broken lives - and sent Christ to give life, an act of grace, so that we might forever know God's riches.

     The mystery this leaves me pondering this week has everything to do with the tagline from The Story, which thanks to Max Lucado goes like this:
This is your story. This is my story. This is the greatest story ever told.

So how is this your story? How is this the greatest story for you? What part of scripture best speaks to where you are in your own journey? The beautiful news for all of us is that in Christ, the eternal Word of God, all of creation is saved. The mystery is, how then will we live?

What comes in the middle?

Beloved, by Linda Crossan*

     This Sunday marks the last in our 9-month series going through the Bible. We began in Genesis and then chronologically worked our way through until now we end with Revelation. As we think about the whole of The Story it has been a wonderful experience to see the thread of God's salvific work throughout the entirety of scripture. And now that we are ending, it seems as if we are only at the beginning again.
     As you recall, way back in Genesis, God created. The earth was chaotic, and into the dark chaos God spoke life and light. In that life and light God saw goodness and splendor. God 'walked in the garden' with those first humans. God's home was with them and they were God's people. Though it didn't take long for those people to go astray and trust in themselves rather than God and God's goodness. From then on in scripture we have the story of God's attempts to be in relationship with creation. From the Exodus story, God worked to bring salvation to the world through a chosen people, Israel. Eventually it became clear that though the people wanted salvation, they didn't want the relationship that naturally came with it. So God promised that a savior would come to restore Israel (and thus all of creation) and that the savior would be a descendant of David.
     Jesus comes into the picture as a baby - born of a young Jewish woman in the least auspicious circumstances. He lives a life of relative poverty, learning the carpentry trade from his earthly father Joseph. He grows up and performs miracles, gains popularity and following, and proclaims that God's kingdom is here - that he is himself God's Son, and that he has come to bring forgiveness of sin and new life. Yet as had been the pattern since the beginning of time, even though people wanted salvation, they wanted it on their terms; they rejected Christ as God's son and crucified him. His closest friends and followers were lost, except that when the funeral preparations began, his body was gone. Angels were there and told the women that he had been raised, just as Jesus said.
     Thus began a movement that changed history. Early participants in the movement were called followers of "The Way" and they dedicated their lives to living as Jesus taught and sharing about him to all they met. The early church suffered from persecution, from false pastors who taught messages antithetical to Christ, and from general disorganization and disunity. Yet despite all these, the church persevered and God's Spirit moved so that today, nearly 2000 years later, the church still exists and worships God, believes that Jesus is God's Son, and that through him salvation has come to all creation.
     Our reading for Sunday gives a glimpse of the end of the story. In a way the story ended Easter morning, when death and the devil were conquered through Christ's resurrection. But we have also spent the last couple of weeks talking about how that reality is in the already/not-yet paradox. Sunday's lesson from Revelation 20 and 21 is about the end. The VERY end.
     And as I said before, the end starts at the beginning. God once again sees the chaos and darkness on earth. Our reading is often described as God's hymn to us, words of hope and promise, words of life and salvation. Heaven comes to us at the end, which is how it has always been - God's movement of love toward us. At this last juncture, God will make all things new, a second creation story. In this creation, there will be no crying or death, pain or mourning. Everyone will live in right relationship with God and with each other, and salvation will finally and fully become reality.
     So it seems we end where we began: God's goodness. From God's goodness comes creation, comes relationship, comes salvation. As Easter people, we know the ending. The challenge we have, then, is living in the not-yet right now and sharing the already with those who still live in darkness. We have come full circle. All things will be made new. God is the beginning and the end. The mystery I ponder this week has everything to do with the middle. If everything starts and ends with God's salvation for all creation, how do we live in the middle?

*Crossan, Linda. Beloved, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=55303 [retrieved May 13, 2014]. Original source: Linda Crossan, Second Presbyterian Church, Nashville, TN.

Mothering God?

Madonna and Children*

     In this penultimate chapter of The Story we read about Paul's imprisonment and eventual death. It is a compilation of excerpts from the letters both written by and attributed to Paul, and for Sunday we will focus on a portion from 2 Timothy chapters 1 and 2. We celebrate the 4th Sunday of Easter this week, and again the text focuses on Jesus' resurrection and the implications thereof.
     And in (yet another) Holy Spirit moment, I chose this particular text not realizing it was Mother's Day. With so many of these wonderful Spirit moments this year, I am unsure why I am still surprised when it happens, but the reading begins with Paul greeting Timothy and remembering Timothy's faith, which was passed down through his grandmother and mother:

I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that lived 

first in your grandmother Lois and 

your mother Eunice and now, 

I am sure, lives in you. 

In this world, there are few greater images of the new life we are given in our life of Christ than that of a mother and her child. Not only in the literal life which is given in the act of labor and birthing, but in the very act of mothering. I know that not everyone has a universally wonderful mother. I consider myself blessed in having the mom I do have, and doubly blessed that I have a wonderful mother-in-law, and even moreso with all the women who give me motherly care and who are more than grandmotherly to Frankie.

     The traits that set these women apart in my own life include forgiveness, love, mercy - all of which were given unconditionally. I acknowledge that I am not always the easiest person to love. In fact, now that I have a daughter of my own I am beginning to understand some of what my mom was thinking as she would mutter something under her breath after one of our many run-ins.

     In his letter to Timothy, Paul gives his grandmother and mother much of the credit for passing on the faith. My mom brought me to the waters of baptism as an infant. She taught me to pray. She taught me to read my Bible. She taught me how to serve others (I have been going to church meetings my whole life). But mostly my mom taught me what it means to know Jesus. Not just as God's Son who died for my sins, but as a friend, as an intimate partner who goes behind, beside, and before me in my own journey of faith.

     Now, there were those other women (and there continue to be women from whom I learn much) who also taught me the faith. Those who lived by quiet example, those who brazenly spoke about their faith in awkward places and embarrassed me to no end as a teenager, those who always had open arms and a listening ear. The point is: by and large it has been women in my life who impacted my faith the most.

      We don't often focus on the feminine traits of God, but this Sunday I look forward to spending time considering the important ways God works through women, particularly through mothers, and how through these women our faith is made more complete.

     How has your mom or other women in your life impacted your faith?

*Lippi, Filippo, ca. 1406-1469. Madonna with Children, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=47895 [retrieved May 5, 2014]. Original source: www.yorckproject.de.

    

Not-yet-ness?

     This coming week marks the third Sunday after Easter. By this time, it is really beginning to feel like Easter is over - the lilies will have started to wilt, or be taken home by those who donated them; the spring decorations will have begun to be replaced with more summery flair; and at least in our congregation we are marking the end of our program year of Sunday School, confirmation, and many other ministries that take sabbath breaks during the summer.

Messiah by He Qi*

     On top of that, we are moving ever closer to the end of The Story, the resource our congregation has been using since last September and the chapter for this week is all about Paul's missionary journey. It is one of the lengthier chapters in the book, and covers a wide range of scripture, from Acts, Romans, 1 Corinthians, Galatians, and 1 Thessalonians.
    Yet given the variety there were several passages that fit the Easter theme quite well, and I landed on a couple of passages from 1 Corinthians 15. The focus on these texts is the resurrection of Christ, but also there is strong emphasis on our own resurrection at the end of time.
     This portion of 1 Corinthians gets at that phrase of the Apostles' Creed that many question, but which we say each week

I believe.. in the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting.

If I am to believe certain studies out there, there are actually very few Christians who believe in an actual bodily resurrection. This may be thanks to a few creative artists who portray the spirits of cartoon characters leaving their body and floating up to heaven, recently given wings, a halo, and a harp to play in paradise. It may be because we know that if we visit any grave, even those who lived the most faithful of lives will still be in the ground. Regardless of where the idea comes from, resurrection of the body is indeed one of the greatest mysteries of faith, as even Paul himself says in this passage. So rather than focusing on the mystery itself, let us focus on the implications of this mystery.
     I admit that in my own preaching and teaching I tend to emphasize eternal life as a present reality for those of us who have died and been raised with Christ in baptism. For so long the only emphasis was on the future life, the life after death, and indeed eternal life is one of the beautiful paradoxes we live in: we have already been given eternal life yet we do not yet experience it in its fullness.
     It is in fact in those moments when we experience the not-yet-ness of the paradox, the words from Paul ring most true

If for this life only we have hoped in Christ, 

we are of all people to most be pitied.

The last day is indeed one of the greatest mysteries of the Christian faith, but it is also the moment that we perhaps yearn for most in the moments of lament, fear, despair, and doubt. What Paul does say for certainty is that in that moment, when the trumpet sounds and the dead are raised, we will all be changed.

     Hoping for the change is not a difficult thing. There is so much about this world: our selves, our neighbors, our societies, that I long to change. And yet there is also so much that I know will never change until that last day. So, rather than get caught up in despair and nihilism that anything we do is worthless anyway, we Christians continue in spite of. For the sake of. In hope of.

     It is with this hope that we do anything at all in this world. So then with this hope that at the last day all will be changed we live our lives as if it were already a reality, witnessing in glimpses the already-ness of our victory in the resurrection and new life. Martin Luther, in his book The Table Talk of Martin Luther says, 

Everything that is done in the world is done by hope. No husbandman would sow one grain of corn, if he hoped not it would grow up and become seed; no bachelor would marry a wife, if he hoped not to have children; no merchant or tradesman would set himself to work, if he did not hope to reap benefit thereby, etc. How much more, then, does hope urge us on to everlasting life and salvation?

And so we live in the already-not-yet of our eternal salvation, experiencing in bits and pieces the gift of Jesus' resurrection while fully awaiting that great and glorious day when the trumpet sounds and all will be changed.

He, Qi. Messiah, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=46119 [retrieved April 28, 2014]. Original source: heqigallery.com.

What do I witness?

Peter Preaching at Pentecost*

     Christ is risen! The scent of lilies still permeates the building, coming from the sanctuary where we celebrated our own baptisms into Christ's death and resurrection. Yet for the people in our gospel lessons, life has moved on to normal. Well, as normal as it gets when you believe that someone came back from the dead to conquer sin, death, and the devil, and to bring eternal salvation to the world.
     Recall with me from Matthew's gospel that the two Mary's who had gone to Jesus' tomb left quickly to return to Galilee, the land they are from. There was no reason to stay in Jerusalem as life there had returned to normal, too. So Jesus instructs the women to tell the men to meet him in Galilee. As we read the rest of Matthew 28, we see that Jesus does in fact meet them there, and that Jesus gives them the Great Commission:

Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted.And Jesus came and said to them, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.’

But you know, even in the midst of Jesus' very strong words of assurance and presence, some still doubted. And that's the beauty of these stories. As we heard on Sunday, the doubt still remains along with the faith. Our realities remain unchanged, right alongside the new reality which laughs at death and suffering because they are not final.
     And this is the reality we find the disciples living in this Sunday's text from Acts. We are continuing to gallop through the Bible, already in chapter 28 of The Story. It is from the Acts of the Apostles and chronicles their actions in those days, months, and years after Jesus' resurrection. In Sunday's reading we happen to find the disciples in Jerusalem again and preaching to a great crowd. It is one of the many sermons in Acts, and is spoken by Peter (you remember - the Peter who denied Jesus three times?). The beautiful and ingenious part of Peter's sermon comes right at the end when he says, "All of us are witnesses of this." The 'this' being Jesus' resurrection.
     That is the mystery I ponder today. How am I a witness of Jesus' resurrection? How are you? How have you seen the risen Jesus in the world? Many of us, along with the witnesses in Matthew still doubt, at times. Yet the important thing is that the doubt happened alongside worship. When we can come and worship - with all our doubts and imperfections - certainly we witness the risen Jesus.

*West, Benjamin, 1738-1820. Peter Preaching at Pentecost, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=55159 [retrieved April 22, 2014]. Original source: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:St._Peter_Preaching_at_Pentecost.jpg.

Who is this?

Crucifixion by El Greco*

This week marks the greatest mystery of our faith: Jesus' final days, his suffering, death, and at the end, his resurrection. When you stop to think about it, reason has a dangerous way of taking over.
Really? You are hanging your whole life on the fact that over 2000 years ago a dude was killed and then came back to life three days later, and now is somehow still present in the world through the Holy Spirit and people who believe in him? And because of this you can now have forgiveness and life?
It sounds absurd, really, when you just read it. Yet it is true, and as Martin Luther said, I would stake my life on it a thousand times.

On Sunday, thanks to David Lose and his entry The Question of the Day, I posed the same question to our congregation: Who is this?

Who is this man who rode into town like a king? Who some actually claimed was a king, who performed signed and miracles, who attracted and angered thousands in equal number? For those who cut branches and spread cloaks, this man was their hope. He was for them the Messiah, the anointed one promised by God for centuries to bring new life and salvation to the world. He was the hope of a life without oppression and hunger, where justice and peace both reigned, and peace through terror and tyranny was nonexistent. (Think Pax Romana.)

Yet just a few days after that triumphant entry these same people who had pinned their hopes on this man had turned and instead of crying Hosanna! cried out Crucify!

Who is this man? Who didn't defend himself, who saved others but couldn't save himself from his own terrible fate, who stirred up hope only to let everyone down that terrible Friday afternoon? He was for them a scapegoat, one on whom to take out anger and hatred, whose promise of a new kingdom went rejected, whose body was broken, and who asked forgiveness for those who inflicted his suffering and death.

These are the questions we pondered Sunday during worship. And the worship continues this week as we celebrate the Great Three Days, culminating on Sunday morning with our Easter celebration. The question, however, remains.

Maundy Thursday we hear from John's gospel about Jesus the servant who stoops to wash his disciples' feet and we ask, Who is this?

Good Friday we hear once again about the cross - that ultimate sign of our faith, the sign of God's own suffering, death, and resurrection for the sake of the world, and we ask, Who is this?

Easter Morning we gather with the disciples and hear from the angel that Christ is alive! We hear these words, perhaps in the same way as those first women, with 'fear and great joy' and we find ourselves once again asking, Who is this?

As we enter into the mystery of this week, please ponder this question with me. In my own journey of faith I have answered this question in many different ways, and if I have learned one thing in this mystery, it is that the answer is rarely ever the same. I know that Jesus is the Son of God, the Messiah, the Savior of the world, but exactly how that is played out varies with mysterious regularity. How about for you? Who is this for you?

 *Greco, 1541?-1614. Crucifixion, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=48044 [retrieved April 15, 2014]. Original source: www.yorckproject.de.

Gain the world and lose my life?

     As we approach Holy Week it feels like time is speeding up, that this Lenten journey which began four weeks ago is somehow accelerating the closer we come to the cross. This week in our gospel from Mark we have a simultaneous confession of faith and betrayal of Jesus' identity.
    Peter boldly declares that Jesus is the Messiah, the Anointed One, the Savior of the world. And at this confession Jesus orders them sternly not to tell anyone. The time had not yet come. But the time was coming for Jesus to reveal exactly what it meant for him to live into his role as Messiah - and it wasn't what the disciples expected. To be the Messiah meant to suffer, to be rejected, to be killed, and then after three days to rise again.
     While Peter boldly confessed Jesus to be the Messiah before, now he turns and tells Jesus that the Messiah does NOT suffer, be rejected, be killed, and then rise again. Surely the Messiah would rise to great glory so that the whole world might come to know God's salvation. Surely the Messiah would enjoy great power and honor and respect fitting a king, especially a king in the line of David. Yet as always, Jesus uses this opportunity to turn everything we know on its head.

If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? ~ Mark 8.34-36

As we speed toward our Three Holy Days, the mystery of faith looms before us. How is one to live as a follower of Jesus? What does it mean for us that the one we follow suffered? What can it mean that we are called to deny the self?
     A wonderful Christian artist named TobyMac composed a song based on these verses several years ago, and it is my prayer that the song and the video invite you into living this mystery with me.

The Wilderness Within

     There is a wolf in me ... fangs pointed for tearing gashes ... a red tongue for raw meat ... and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.    

     O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness. 

~ Wilderness by Carl Sandburg

     These are two stanzas from the beautiful poem Wilderness by Carl Sandburg. (You can read the entire poem if you like.)  I love them because they point out a truth that we often ignore, that we try to hide, or do our best to forget. It is the thing of which we are reminded each Ash Wednesday as our Lenten journeys begin - we are made from the dust of the wild. We come from the wilderness.
     This week our focus is on Jesus' journey into the wilderness. The timing of Jesus' journey cannot be accidental - it happens just as he is baptized and emerges from the waters, dripping wet, and sure of God's love for him. It comes at a time when his ministry is fledgling and not really yet begun. It comes at a time when it is essential for Jesus, the Son of God, fully divine, to remember that he is also fully human - made from the dust of the wilderness.

Christ in the Desert - Ivan Nikolaevich Kramskoĭ*

     And so he goes, led by the Spirit into the wilderness, an account we read about in Matthew 4. (You can also read about in all of the other gospels as this is one of the few texts included in all four.) According to Matthew's gospel, the Spirit sends Jesus there 'to be tempted by the devil.' It is no wonder Jesus included in his teaching that we ought to pray that the Spirit doesn't 'lead us into temptation'!
     Jesus had been through it - 40 days of fasting and being tempted with the challenge of his authority as God's son: If you are God's son, prove it and turn these stones to bread... 40 days of bone-wearying survival in a desert wilderness and being tempted with the challenge of God's willingness to become human: If you are God, prove it and throw yourself off the building... 40 days of solitude save the company of the wild animals and being tempted with the challenge of his power: If you, human, really want to rule just worship me and all this will be yours...
     Each part of Jesus' temptation had to do with the fact that he was really, truly, human. Made from the dust of the wilderness where he was exiled those 40 days. Made from the dust of the wilderness the Israelites were exiled those 40 years. Made of the same dust from which we are made. And it seems as if this wilderness dust is somehow in tension with the water-Spirit of which children of God are born. 
     Remember baptism is a new birth, the beginning of a new life not lived in the flesh, but in the Spirit. The age old battle between our carnal desires born in the wilderness and the Spirit-filled lives of God's children rages every day. Along with Carl Sandburg I can honestly say 'there is a wolf in me.' Within me is the capacity to destroy and tear down, to kill and maim, to prey and stalk. Yet, like Jesus, I am also a child of God. Born of water and Spirit. And the wolf in me constantly lives in tension and is tempted to prove - that I am good, worthy, special. To prove that I am talented, competent, and intelligent. To prove that I am 'living the dream' and happy about it.
     These verses from Matthew have left me pondering the mystery of wilderness. Is wilderness all about place? Is it all about circumstance? Or is wilderness something I have - something I am - something that is part of my DNA? Is the real threat of wilderness from within my own being?

*Kramskoĭ, Ivan Nikolaevich, 1837-1887. Christ in the Desert, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=54297 [retrieved March 19, 2014]. Original source: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Kramskoi_Christ_dans_le_d%C3%A9sert.jpg.

Mirror, mirror...

While we've known all winter that spring would be around the corner, it feels like we are finally seeing signs of the promised new life after the long, cold, and dark winter. The snow is melting, the sun is shining, and it is getting warmer. This in itself is enough to make any of us upper-mid-westerners break out in a song of praise, and that's exactly what I saw someone doing as they went outside for the first time yesterday morning. They literally started singing, face and hands up in the air, drinking in the warmth and sunshine.
     We are now in chapter 22 of The Story, which happens to be the first chapter of the New Testament. It is all about the birth of Jesus, stories we are accustomed to hearing in December and Advent. Yet here it is - March and Lent, and we have the birth of Jesus. Which may be exactly just what we need, because like those people I saw burst into spontaneous songs of joy yesterday, our text is from Luke 1 and Mary, the mother of Jesus, spontaneously bursts into a song of praise for what God has done.
     This song of praise often referred to as The Magnificat, is a glorious song that focuses on the work of God in the world saying that God has:

The Visitation - Mary and Elizabeth Meet*

• looked with favor on the lowly
• given favor to those who fear God
• shown strength
• scattered the proud
• brought down the powerful
• lifted up the lowly
• filled the hungry with good things
• sent the rich away empty
• helped God's servant Israel

What a list of God's deeds! No wonder Mary begins to spontaneously burst into a song of praise. And the curious thing about this song is that she recites it when she visits her cousin Elizabeth, after the angel Gabriel has announced that she will give birth to God's son.
     When we hear these words in Advent we look with hope for how God's coming among us in the flesh will make all of these things that God has done come to pass. The focus is on the future impact of God's work in Jesus. Yet we are in Lent, and so we read these words with a different lens.
     During this time of Lent, these words invite us to ponder how, because of what God has done for us in Jesus, we are partners with God in making these things come about. As we contemplate our own relationship with God, our own spiritual health and well-being, our own way of living our faith and love, this song of praise becomes something like a mirror.
     When you look in the mirror do you see someone through whom God is working? Do you see someone God uses to lift up the lowly or fill the hungry with good things? Do you see someone who works to bring down the powerful and send the rich away empty through justice and advocacy? This week I am pondering how this song reflects, or sadly how it often doesn't reflect my own life of faith.
     Into what does Mary's song of praise invite you? How does it challenge you to live and to, like Mary, open your own life to God's work so that God's salvation can be shown in and through you? Even as we stand convicted of our own shortfalls, we remember how Mary's song starts
 ‘My soul magnifies the Lord,
   and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour,
for he has looked with favour on the lowliness of his servant.
God has seen us in our lowliness, and God has sent us a companion in our journeys of faith. May this Lent be a time for us to ponder the mystery of God's gracious forgiveness and mercy, even as we continue to strive to live as God's beloved children in this world.

*JESUS MAFA. The Visitation - Mary and Elizabeth meet, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=48279 [retrieved March 11, 2014].

How is your heart?

Meu Coracao/My Heart*

   Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of our Lenten journey. Here at St. John our journey will be a little different than normal - since we are still in the throes of   The Story we continue to follow through the Bible rather than hear the usual Lenten texts given in the lectionary. Yet as has been the case in the last several months, the Spirit has worked and the themes remain the same.
     This Sunday we hear from Nehemiah, and it is the last chapter before we come to the New Testament in our journey. Nehemiah was one of the exiled, and when he asks after his home and his people the news he receives is less than comforting. The walls of Jerusalem have crumbled, the people are in 'great trouble and shame.'

     It is easy in this life to focus on one thing or another while neglecting something else. My suspicion is that the survivors, those who 'escaped captivity' are focusing on trying to rebuild what was taken. Remember that in war only the valuable are taken; those with skills, power, knowledge, and prominence are worth the trouble - which means that those left aren't used to being in charge. They don't have what it takes to just pick up and start where they left off before the invasion. The walls and gates of their city were probably low on the priority list of things to fix.
     Regardless of this fact, however, it doesn't change that Jerusalem, and the temple in particular, were seen as God's home; care for these things was a reflection on the relationship the people had with God, the God who had saved them. This is why Nehemiah, upon hearing the news of disrepair of the city gates and walls, immediately begins to fast and pray. While the 'great trouble and shame' are in reference to the state of Jerusalem, and how the survivors had cared for their sacred place, Lent offers us a time to reflect upon the state of our own sacred places, specifically on the state of our hearts.
     Fasting and prayer are two common disciplines taken up by individuals during Lent because of the ways in which fasting and prayer remind us that there is more to life than what we spend our time worrying about. Fasting and prayer call us into closer relationship with God, and they help us to examine our priorities, our relationships, and those important things which too often go neglected because some other, less important emergency comes up.
     The important thing to remember when reading Nehemiah is that God has already saved the Israelites. The salvation came generations before when God brought their people out of slavery in Egypt. The commandments and statues they follow are simply a relationship agreement of how these saved ones live with God and with each other. So Nehemiah fasting and praying, and then in subsequent chapters of the book calling people back to the commandments, is not about being saved but more about calling people back to their salvation in the first place.
     The same is true for us. We have already been saved. Jesus already died, our sins are already forgiven, new life is already ours for living. Except it is easy to forget this, and to live in ways which show the true state of our hearts: we forget that. This season of Lent is an opportunity for us to turn back, to examine our hearts and lives, and to engage in practices which bring us home again.
     After reading Nehemiah, I am left pondering the mystery of my own heart and my own sacred places. What is the state of yours?

*Meu Coracao/My Heart, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=54138 [retrieved March 4, 2014]. Original source: Amanda Vivan, Flickr Creative Commons.

Where is home?

     As The Story has progressed, home has been a significant theme.  From the start God's people have been seeking and searching for home: Adam and Eve after they were banished from the Garden; Abraham and Sarah after God asked them to leave their home and find a new one; Moses and the Israelites first slaves in Egypt and then wanderers in the dessert; the Israelites, once again, after they are conquered and exiled to far places by the Babylonians.
     Of course there was that happy time in between the wanderings when the people actually entered the Promised Land.  But in the course of history, the happiness of living in the Promised Land was relatively short.  The people were constantly at war, fighting with each other, not enjoying the peace of being home.
     Yet God promised Abraham, and if we have learned nothing else over the course of this series, it is that God always keeps God's promises.  After nearly 70 years in exile, the Babylonians are conquered by the Persians, and King Cyrus makes a way for the Israelites to return home.  We read of this return in several places throughout the Old Testament, but we are focusing on the portion from Ezra 1 this week.
     The remarkable thing about the telling of the Israelites' return home is two fold.  First, God once again uses an outsider (King Cyrus was not God-fearing, and yet still participated in God's mission to bring the Israelites home) and second, King Cyrus send the Israelites home with what would have normally been the rightful 'spoils of war' for Persia.  Gold, silver, animals, offerings...it sounds like the captors are throwing a Welcome Home party for those they exiled.
     As we contemplate the triumphant return of the Israelites, I am pondering home.  What is home?  Where is home?  Or course there are those old addages
 Home is where your heart is... or Home is where you hang your hat... Yet what I find as we read the story of scripture into our own lives, is that home is none of those things.  Home is simply where you are, being who you were created to be.  There is an excellent TED talk by Pico Iyer on home, found below, but one of my favorite things about this video is how he talks about home.  At one point he says,

Home is not about where you are from, 

but where you are going.

     As I read this story of scripture into the story of my own life - both as a person and as a member of a congregation getting ready to build - I am encouraged that God is taking us home.  For some building a bigger space to worship and have fellowship is a sad ending to a long history of ministry in this place.  Because bigger means more people, it means different programs, it means change.  For others this process of building provides exciting possibilities.  Because bigger means more people, it means different programs, it means change.
     For the Israelites going home, it means change.  It means fear of the unknown.  It meant excitement to a return to 'normal'.  Yet in the end, all of these expectations were based in hope and faith that God was leading and guiding them.  That is my hope, too, as a person and as a pastor.  God has promised to be faithful, and I trust that God is.  And that means that God is leading and guiding us home, to our future together.
     This week I invite you to ponder the mystery of home with me, and if you have the 15 minutes to watch this stunning take on what 'home' is.

Are you against the grain?

     As The Story continues, we find the Israelites living in exile, dispersed throughout the region of Babylon.  Of course as it is with any military victory, the young, talented, and valuable are all taken as political prisoners and kept under close watch.  Daniel and three of his friends, whom we know as Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, were among those taken to the palace.  They were made to be part of the king's court after three years of training in the language, culture, and other aspects of Babylonian life.  Yet from the beginning these four rebelled in the ways they could.  Rather than eat meat sacrificed to the gods of the Babylonians, they refused and demanded vegetables instead.  The vegetarian diet suited these four boys as the guard observed after 10 days of this diet they appeared 'better and fatter than all the young men who had been eating the royal rations.'

Lion, by Albrecht Dürer*

     That is just the beginning.  The book of Daniel is full of the tales of how these young men remained faithful and resisted the command to forget their God and totally assimilate into the Babylonian culture.  Of course the most familiar of these stories include the Fiery Furnace with Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego and Daniel in the Lion's Den.  This week we will focus on the latter, found in Daniel 6.
     In one of the tales of Daniel's rebellion, we find that Daniel has earned the jealousy of some of the native Babylonians, as his service to the king is outstanding and he is getting promoted above them.  They devise a plan in which they ask King Nebuchadnezzar has ordered a decree that anyone who prays to anyone except the king in the next 30 days shall be thrown into a den of lions.  As is the traditional literary pattern, the king does what these men ask, and orders the decree.  Daniel, however, continues to pray to God - going into his room, facing Jerusalem, and praying three times a day.  The conspirators find him in prayer and take him to the king.
     Of course the king really likes Daniel, and is heartbroken that he has signed this decree; yet before throwing him into the den he displays an amount of faith rarely seen even in the Israelites by saying:

May your God, whom you faithfully serve, deliver you!

Interestingly the only words Daniel actually says out loud in this whole account are the morning after he has spent the night with lions, when he lets the king know that he is still alive.  The rest of Daniel's words in the story are silent, or are known only between him and God as they are prayers.
     I wonder what it is about Daniel's faith that King Nebuchadnezzar is willing to pray on his behalf to God, whom we can assume King Nebuchadnezzar knows nothing about.  Was it Daniel's willingness to defy the king's decree that gives King Nebuchadnezzar this new found faith?  Was it Daniel's calm quiet in the face of hungry lions that gives the king hope? 
     Whatever it was, when the king rushes the next morning to discover Daniel's fate, and finds that Daniel is alive, he continues with a tremendous declaration of faith:

For [God] is the living God, enduring forever; 

Whose kingdom shall never be destroyed,

And whose dominion has no end.

God delivers and rescues, 

working signs and wonders in heaven and on earth...

     As I think about Daniel's witness, I am heartened.  Life wasn't exactly what Daniel would have liked.  He was a prisoner.  His people had been destroyed.  His home ruined.  There wasn't much hope in having life return to normal.  And yet in that moment he chose to remain faithful by disobeying the king's decree.  Rather than give up and assimilate, Daniel went against the grain.

     While I don't often think about having to stand fast in my faith in the face of laws against it, I do spend a lot of time thinking about, well, time.  As I look around at other families and think about my own family in the future, I wonder about things like sports, clubs, extracurricular activities, and the amount of time those things can consume.  Children are scheduled 24/7 now, with very little time to actually be kids.  I say to myself that I won't let our family get that way.  I make promises that worship will continue to remain central for us (and for me it will - by the nature of my job and calling as pastor).  Yet I know that when the time comes it will take all of us standing up and going against the grain.  It is not just a dilemma felt by families with children, but this remaining faithful can be a difficult thing for everyone, in whatever stage of life they are living.

     The mystery I am left pondering this morning as I reflect on Daniel is how against the grain are we?  Are we becoming assimilated Christians?  Have we given up with our current circumstances and just said, 'Oh well.  They schedule sports/clubs/music/etc. on Sundays and we just have to live with it or we will never succeed in life.'  Have we in subtle ways over many years, finally become irrelevant to our culture because we've made so many concessions?  It is a mystery of faith - how to live in a world that does not believe in God.  Yet we know our God is living, and that our God endures forever.  Sports don't last.  Music doesn't last. Popularity doesn't even last.  God does.  How are you going against the grain to live this out?

*Dürer, Albrecht, 1471-1528. Lion, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=46275 [retrieved February 10, 2014]. Original source: http://www.yorckproject.de.

Can these bones live?

Ezekiel in the Valley of Dry Bones*

   Well, we're back in  The Story this week, and the news does not look good for Israel.  In chapter 17 we find out that even though the southern kingdom of Judah was spared from the Assyrians, there was another nation even more powerful and brutal than Assyria: Babylon.  The southern kingdom is destroyed and the Israelites carried off into exile, while their temple, their Promised Land, their culture, and their religion is utterly destroyed by the Babylonians who occupy and rebuild the land as their own.
     It seems that God' hopes and dreams for this nation, these chosen people who for generations have been saved time and time again, are over.  Israel is no more.  The people are scattered.  God's house is destroyed. 
     Yet even in the destruction of the nation, God is not standing idly by.  God is at work in the people, continuing to speak through prophets, continuing to teach and stand with this people who have come to live with the consequences of their actions.  In our reading for Sunday, God is talking with a prophet named Ezekiel.  It is one of my favorite stories in all of scripture, from Ezekiel 37. 
     We find as the story begins that God has brought Ezekiel to a valley that is full of old, dead, dry bones.  These are the bones of Israel, a physical sign of the hope the people have lost, the destruction they have experienced, the feeling of being abandoned by the God who promised to always be with them.  As I think about this scene, it evokes an eery sense of desolation and loneliness.  Yet in this valley one of God's greatest miracles well occur.

     God asks Ezekiel, "Mortal, can these bones live?"

And the astonishing thing is that Ezekiel does not immediately say 'No!' Rather, Ezekiel responds with a statement of such great faith I can only begin to wish  could see God's power the way he did. 

Ezekiel answered, "O Lord, God, you know."

Ezekiel sees the potential of life in dead bones, of hope in hopelessness, of power in destruction.  And so, God instructs Ezekiel to prophesy.  As he does, the bones begin to come together, (we all know the song), they form sinews and tendons, muscle, and flesh.  Yet even with all the necessary physical parts put together, they are not living.  God has one more piece of creation - the breath.  As a hearken back to Genesis, where we find that humans are the only created being that have in them God's breath, once again God breathes into these bodies and they live again. Just as the dead bones were a sign of the death and destruction felt by Israel, so now these live bodies were a sign of the life that was to come. 
     When I read this story I love the myriad ways in which our lives today reflect the lives of those bones.  If you experience something in life that leaves you utterly drained and hopeless, God is ready to raise you up.  If you feel like God has abandoned you and left you to the fates of the world, God is standing by ready to make something new happen.  If you feel like a body just going through the motions of life, God is there with the breath that makes life worth living.
     What this story reveals to us about God is that God is always standing by, always there, ready to make the miraculous happen.  Now - the bones were dead and dry.  They had been there for quite some time.  God' works don't always happen on our schedules, but even then we have the hope that God is simply waiting - for the right circumstances, for the right time, for the right day.  As we have said so often about scripture this year, "This is your story.  This is my story.  This is the greatest story ever told.". These bones are us - and the story of life out of death, resurrection and new life - is our story.  So the next time you are feeling abandoned, hopeless, or like giving up, just ponder the mystery Ezekiel did.  Can these bones live?

*Ezekiel in the Valley of the Dry Bones, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=55163 [retrieved February 4, 2014]. Original source: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:St._Nicholas%27_Church,_Deptford_Green,_SE8_-_carved_panel_representing_Ezekiel_in_the_Valley_of_the_Dry_Bones_-_geograph.org.uk_-_1501992.jpg.