Tuesday, March 26, 2019

Rebuilding Is Invitational


3rd Sunday in Lent
March 24, 2019
Isaiah 55:1-9

            There is a movie that first came out in 1937 and has been remade not just once, but three times. It’s the story of a young aspiring performer whose career begins during the movie and an experienced performer whose career comes to a close by the end of the movie. Any guesses which movie I’m talking about? “A Star Is Born.” Who’s seen the 1937 original with Janet Gaynor and Fredric March? How about the 1954 version with Judy Garland and James Mason? Then it was remade in 1976 with Barbra Streisand and Kris Kristofferson; anyone see that one? Finally, this enduring story came out again last year with Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper. I have not seen the first three versions, but I saw the newest one and loved it; has anyone else seen it? The one Oscar it won was for best original song, a song that Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper co-wrote called “Shallow.” 

It begins with Bradley Cooper singing, “Tell me somethin', girl/ Are you happy in this modern world?/ Or do you need more?/ Is there somethin' else you're searchin' for?/ I'm falling/ In all the good times I find myself/ Longin' for change/ And in the bad times I fear myself.” Then it switches to Lady Gaga singing, “Tell me something, boy/ Aren't you tired tryin' to fill that void?/ Or do you need more?/ Ain't it hard keeping it so hardcore?” and she repeats the verse about longing for change, even in the good times. Are you happy in this modern world with all our conveniences and technology, or do you need more? Are you searching for something else? Do you find yourself longing for change, even during the good times? Is there a void you’re trying to fill? Do you need more? Do you want more?
            This morning’s reading from Isaiah answers those questions. “Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters; and you who have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost. Why spend money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy?” Isaiah not only answers the questions, he asks questions back! Why are you wasting your money and your energy on things that do not fill you up? In “A Star Is Born,” the older performer is also an alcoholic, an addict, seeking to fill the void with drugs and alcohol and finding that they do not satisfy. They leave him still thirsty and still searching for more. Whereas Isaiah invitingly says, “Come, eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food.”
            So, first question, what is this good food?[1] Besides the answer to when you ask mom what’s for dinner, Isaiah starts by saying come to the waters, come, buy wine and milk and bread. Yet it turns out food is a metaphor and Isaiah shifts from physical food to spiritual food. “Listen to me… Incline your ear, and come to me; listen, so that you may live.” The good food is what God has to say. This echoes the Scripture Jesus quotes Satan when Satan tempts him by telling him to turn stones into bread. Jesus responds, one “does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord.”[2] We live, we are fed, by God’s Word: the Word incarnate, Jesus, and all the other words God has spoken and is still speaking. God didn’t stop speaking in the 5th century when the Bible canon was established and those were the letters chosen to go into the New Testament. God has been speaking throughout all of millennia, and is still speaking today. Thank God, because that’s how we live, by every word that comes out of the mouth of God.
            The second good food that God offers is an everlasting covenant. This is an offer God repeatedly makes throughout the ages. Last Lent we went through the covenants with Noah, Abraham, Moses, the people of Israel, and, finally, with all of God’s people. Using the metaphor of food, this covenant in Isaiah 55 is one “of unending support and care for the people of God [and] is free food for Israel, which cannot run out, because God is obligated to keep cooking.” God has promised to always feed us when we turn to him, when we seek him, when we call on him, when we return to him from wherever we have wandered off to. God is constantly inviting us to come and eat and to eat our fill. Not so that we gorge ourselves or get fat, but so that we fill the longing in our souls for something more. You may not be trying to fill that hole with alcohol or drugs, you may be into shopping or working crazy hours or extreme sports trying to find something that fills the longing for more. Only Jesus can, and he offers a feast to which he’s continually inviting you to come. Lay down your striving. Lay down your perfectionisms and your inadequacies and your excuses. Simply come and be fed til you want no more.
            There are a lot of things that keep us from coming. The overall word here for the hindrance to eating good food is exile. Isaiah’s writing to a people who have been in exile for a long time and are about to return home. That means there are some who remember life before the exile, the “good old days,” which we tend to remember through rose-colored glasses. There are also some who were born in exile, they’ve always been in exile and don’t know any different. Then there’s a third group, those who chose exile, who cut themselves off, for whatever reason, and are in self-imposed exile. Here’s the thing. Whether or not you’re hungry, you need the food God offers. And even if you don’t think you’re hungry, you need what God offers. The whole world needs this good food and God invites everyone.
            Now, the Church has gotten a bad rap, especially lately, which is keeping people from coming. I even spoke to someone at the oyster supper about this. She’s a lapsed Catholic, would love to get her children involved in a church, yet with all the abuses and all the scandals and all the cover-ups, she’s not sure she trusts the Church. A lot of money goes into the advertising industry trying to convince us we need things we don’t really need. And these ads work! Advertising talks us into buying a new car or taking a dream vacation or whitening our teeth! If we are so easily convinced by ads, why are we not so convinced by God? Now, I don’t watch that many commercials. Most of the TV I watch are shows I’ve recorded and so I fast-forward through the commercials. When a commercial comes on the radio, I change the channel to another radio station. I limit my exposure to ads because I don’t want to hear them. I think many people in our community and our world limit their exposure to God. They are distrustful of this good food, which is really sad. Yet naming that reality helps, because it means we know we’ve got to step up our game.
            Some of you know I’m a big Duke fan; I was raised that way, both my parents are alumni. We watch a lot of basketball this time of year in my house. But for years, Duke Football was always a bit of a joke, until December 2007, when Duke hired Coach Cutcliffe, who has turned the team around. One of the things he did was send a recorded message to all Duke Alumni. I happened to answer the phone at my mom’s house when he called and when his recording was over, I was so excited and on board, Duke Football was going to be great, and then I paused. And I remembered: I don’t like football. It’s a sport I’ve never gotten into. But Coach Cutcliffe had called and invited me to come be part of the new things happening at Duke Football and his enthusiasm was contagious.
            According to ChurchGrowth.org, how most people start attending a church is because a friend invited them.[3] 86% say it’s because a friend invited them. Only 6% say it’s because of an organized visitation, another 6% because they were invited by the pastor, and the last 2% because of advertising. That says that the best advertisement is you. Not me, not a brochure or website. You. Now, reasons people connect with a church and stay at a church have to do with the pastor and preaching and the friendliness of the congregation.[4] But what gets them in the door is an invitation from a friend. The days of the attractional model are over. You know, “Field of Dreams,” “If you build it, they will come.” That’s no longer the world we live in, and you can take a moment to mourn that if you’d like. Times have changed, and we have to change, too. How many of you have ever invited a friend to church? How many of you have ever gone with a friend to their church? Now, in the past year, have you invited a friend to church?
            Jesus invites us, and we, in turn, invite others as well. In John 4 Jesus talks with a Samaritan woman at a well. They have quite the conversation, including where Jesus tells her, “Everyone who drinks this [well] water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” Just like in Isaiah, Jesus promises good food that will fill you up and not leave you hungry or thirsting for more. There are many interesting parts to this conversation, but what I want to focus on today is how it ends. The woman “leaves her jar at the well and goes back into town and says to the people, ‘Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did. Could this be the Messiah?’”[5] Because of her invitation, the townspeople came out to come see Jesus. “Many of the Samaritans from that town believed in him because of the woman’s testimony, ‘He told me everything I ever did.’”[6] Then, as these others got to know Jesus for themselves, “They said to the woman, ‘We no longer believe just because of what you said; now we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this man really is the Savior of the world.’”[7] Jesus met one woman, and she went out and invited her whole town to come see Jesus.
If you’re more of an introvert and like smaller groups, then consider Andrew’s story in John 1 instead. Andrew is hanging out with John the Baptist when they see Jesus passing by. John blurts out, “Look! The Lamb of God!” and Andrew started following Jesus. As you might ask someone who starts following you, Jesus looks back and asks, “What do you want?” Andrew responds with a question, “Teacher, where are you staying?” Jesus answers with an invitation, “Come and see.” Andrew goes and sees. After he sees for himself, “the first thing Andrew does is to find his brother Simon and tell him, ‘We have found the Messiah’ (that is, the Christ). And he brings him to Jesus. Jesus looks at him and said, ‘You are Simon son of John. You will be called Peter.’” We do not know a single other thing that Andrew does other than to invite his brother. We know lots about that brother, though: Peter, who walks on water; Peter, who becomes the leader of the early church after Jesus’ ascension; Peter, who denies Jesus the night of the crucifixion and is later reinstated by Jesus. It all started with an invitation.
            Come and see. Come and eat. Come join the work. Come hear about the One who loves you unconditionally. Come hear about the One who abundantly pardons. Come sit at the feet of the One who offers living water that will fill you up so you don’t have to go looking for love in all the wrong places anymore. Come, let me show you where God’s dining room is. And guess what, there’s a feast spread out on it. It’s not too good to be true. It’s not too good for you or for me. None of us deserve it. We are all messes. Yet everyone is invited.
            This week, make it a point to invite someone. Whether it’s to Sunday worship or to the Easter egg hunt or whatever you discern is the right thing to ask that person to. Pray for that person; pray for that event. They might tell you no. Invite someone, anyway. Rebuilding is invitational. It’s not about whether the offer is accepted or rejected; we don’t have control over that. The point is that you make the offer. And no inviting someone who’s already involved in a faith community. That’s called sheep-stealing and I don’t play that game. Reach out to someone who has stopped going to church, or who never went in the first place. Reach out to those who feel in exile, whether sent there or self-imposed, and invite them to come. There is always enough at Jesus’ table. Our God is a God of abundance and he never runs out of food.  


[1] Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary, Year C, Lent/Easter, p. 41
[2] Deuteronomy 8:3; Luke 4:4
[3] I couldn’t find it on their website and I know I’ve seen it elsewhere. All I found was one on Facebook under “How do people start attending church?”
[5] John 4:28-29
[6] John 4:39
[7] John 4:42

Wednesday, March 20, 2019

Rebuilding Requires Trust


2nd Sunday in Lent
March 17, 2019
Genesis 15:1-18


            When I sat down to write this sermon was when the news broke about the gunman opening fire on worshipers at Al Noor and Linwood mosques in Christchurch, New Zealand. Terrorism adds another dimension to trust that I hadn’t planned to talk about, but we’re going to go there first. Canadian pastor Carey Nieuwhof wrote, “You wish you could wake up in a world in which children could go to school, friends could go to movies, athletes could run marathons, music lovers could go to concerts and people could go to nightclubs and churches without the fear of violence. Sadly, that doesn’t appear to be ready to happen anytime soon. Hurricanes and earthquakes—devastating as they are—are one thing. But the evil that we inflict on one another, that’s a whole other sickness. In an era of randomized terror and angry, isolated men, it’s extremely difficult to protect ourselves from acts of violence in shopping malls, schools, churches or movie theatres…it is infecting and affecting our ordinary, everyday life. Which is exactly what it’s designed to do. And hence, it’s terror.”[1] We want to put our children on school buses in the morning and trust they will come home to us in the afternoon. We want to trust that we can do ordinary everyday things and not worry whether we will survive them. We can’t live in fear. And fear and anxiety should not control your life. Tomorrow is not promised to any of us.
Instead, God calls us to live faithfully, come what may. God called St. Patrick to go back to Ireland, the place where he was enslaved. Can you imagine the trepidation he must have felt and his level of trust in God when he stepped foot on Irish soil again? “Ok, God, here I am. Please keep me safe. I trust you and you called me here.” And then he probably repeated that prayer for a while as different sights or sounds or smells can trigger memories. The same is true for Jesus. In our Gospel reading this morning Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem and he knows why he’s going to Jerusalem. He’s on the road to the cross. “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it!”[2] Jesus knows he’s one of those who is going to be killed in Jerusalem, it’s not a safe place for him, and yet he’s obeying God’s will.
            One of those in the Bible who’s highly commended for his faithfulness and radical obedience is Abraham. In Genesis 12, God says “Go from your country, your people, and your father’s household to the land I will show you” and you will be blessed to be a blessing to others. Go, without knowing the final destination yet. Go down this road. I’ll tell you where it leads later. God says go, and Abram goes. He has some adventures along the way and then we get to today’s reading from chapter 15. God says, “Do not be afraid. I am your shield. Your reward shall be great.” Abram asks, “What reward? I’m childless. A dude named Eliezer in my household is my heir. I have no children.” God replies, “Eliezer will not be your heir but your own child. Look at the heavens and number the stars, if you can. Your descendants will be just as numerous.” And Abram believed God. This is faith, “confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.”[3] There is no physical evidence. He and Sarai have been barren for a very long time, there’s no sign of that changing, except for this promise from God. “Abram believed the Lord, and he credited it to him as righteousness.”[4]
            Abram believed the Lord, and then the conversation continued. God says, “I am the Lord who brought you from Ur to possess this land.” Abram asks for a sign, “How am I to know that I will possess it?” God gives him the details to make a covenant offering. Abram does it and falls asleep. In his dreams, God says, “Your descendants will be slaves for 400 years in another country. Then I will punish that country and your heirs will come back to this land. You will die a ripe old age.” And God makes a covenant with Abram to give his descendants the land. Abram believes the Lord, yet he still questions. How do I know this going to happen? And God makes a covenant with him that it’s going to happen. “Number the stars and so shall your offspring be,” and Abram, with zero children, believes the Lord. “I’m going to give you this land,” and Abram who’s been a nomad since he left Ur in chapter 12, wants a sign. This is part of the human condition. “We like to think of ourselves as being people who inherently trust God. Yet [more often than not,] … the first response of humanity toward God is that of distrust.”[5] One promise, Abram’s good. Two promises? The thing is, “we [often] find divine generosity so overwhelming that we dispute it.”[6] We argue back with God, we ask for signs, we want proof, we want clarity, [pause] we get impatient for when God’s going to fulfill God’s promises. You thought Abram was good with being promised that he’d have a child? In the very next chapter Abram and Sarai decide they’re going to make God’s promise come true. Sarai gives Abram her slave, Hagar, to sleep with. Hagar gets pregnant and Ishmael is born. Don’t we always get in trouble when we try to make God’s promises come true? When we take matters into our own hands? God still takes care of Hagar and Ishmael, and Ishmael is considered a prophet in Islam.
            Now, there’s nothing wrong with questioning God and it’s okay to ask for signs. God answers those questions and gives signs. It happens all the time in the Bible: Abraham, Moses, Jeremiah, Isaiah, Gideon. I asked God for signs for confirmation that I was hearing God right when God told me it was time to leave Nicaragua and go to seminary. I asked God for three signs, and God answered all three. Here I am. There’s a difference, though, when we take matters into our own hands. It’s not God promised me a car, so I’m going to go steal a car because God promised it to me. It’s God sent me down this path, and I don’t know where it leads and I may ask for some light and markers along the way, which God will provide, because God is faithful. 2 Peter 1:3 says “His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life.” God has given us everything we need. Not everything we want, but God has given us everything we need to live a life that pleases God.
            So, go where God’s leading. Wait for God’s timing. Don’t force it. Keep following each step God shows you. Remain faithful amid doubt, and fear, and temptation. Those things are going to come; they’re part of life. The point is what you do with your doubts and your fears and your temptations. Do you give in? Or do you name your fears, double-check the facts, figure out what you can do about it, and then, as 1 Peter 5:7 says, “Cast all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.” Ask God to search your heart, to test you and know your anxious thoughts.[7] That comes from Psalm 139, and the very next verse says, “See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.” Fear is not necessarily sinful, as long as you don’t let it paralyze you or overwhelm you or control you, as long as you still act in spite of your anxiety. Faith means you trust even when there’s no physical evidence and all you have a promise from the One who is faithful. We don’t know exactly what the future will look like, the future of this church, the future of our denomination, the future of each of our families. But we can face the future with calm, which the opposite of terror. God does not terrorize. God is in the business of love and bringing together and building up.
            In Hebrews 11, which begins with that definition of faith, “confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see,” then lists various ancients who were commended for their faithfulness: Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abram. Then it says, “All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them.” You can look back, to the place you used to be. And God says if you do that, then you’ll have the opportunity to return. You don’t have to follow God down the road God leads you. You can stay stuck in the past, or you can look forward to the future God has prepared for you.
            Rebuilding and moving forward requires trust, because faith requires trust. What’s helpful to remember here is that John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, firmly believed that faith is a gift of God; it’s not something we can accomplish on our own. You can’t make yourself have more faith any more than you can make God’s promises come true. God fulfills God’s promises. God gives faith. Trust God. Even when there’s no physical evidence, look to trust God. Stand firm in God’s promises. God is faithful. God will bring about the future God has promised. It’s a future with hope. It’s a future we can’t make happen on our own. It’s a future we trust God to bring about as we continue to live faithfully. Rebuilding requires faith and trust in God. And what does the Lord require of you? In the words of Micah 6:9, “To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.”
For some practical ways to do that, the Canadian pastor, Carey Nieuwhof, who I mentioned at the beginning had some ideas. While many others were posting prayers for the Muslim community, which are good and are needed, he posted his “Thoughts on How to Be the Church in an Age of Terror and Tragedy.”[8] He wrote that in this time when it’s hard to trust, “what the church is doing is more important, not less important.” We the Church have a radically different alternative to violence and hatred and that is love. Jesus said his followers would be known by their love. In the face of violence and hatred, show love, be love, preach love, respond with love. Love is stronger than hatred and death. Love changes hearts. “The most radical thing you can do today is to extend love in the face of hate.” If you need something completely concrete to do, the Dar Al Taqwa Mosque in Ellicott City is holding an interfaith, community-wide solidarity event this evening at 6:00 p.m. It’s one action you can take to go and show love. There are many others. In the face of fear and hatred, we respond with calm, that the Lord is my Shepherd, I need not fear, and we respond by saying God loves you, and so do I.
Let us pray…

Wednesday, March 13, 2019

When Rebuilding, Know Your Story


1st Sunday in Lent
March 10, 2019
Deuteronomy 26:1-11

Today is the first Sunday in Lent. Lent is typically a season of pruning. Yet as I was thinking about this for us for this year, a season of pruning is not good news to a people who have recently been pruned. We are ready to move past pruning and the wilderness and into rebuilding and new growth. Nehemiah is one of the stories of rebuilding in the Bible. He is a Jewish exile in Babylon and learns news about the remnant left in Jerusalem. The city wall is broken down and the gates have been burned. Nehemiah’s first response is to sit down and weep. For some days Nehemiah mourns and fasts and prays. The words to his prayer are what we’re using as our Call to Worship this Lent. You probably noticed his prayer is a prayer of confession. The city wall is broken and the gates are burned and Nehemiah begins by confessing. He praises God, that first sentence of our Call to Worship, and then asks God to listen to his prayer, and his prayer is a confession, not just for him, but for his family and his people. I and my family have messed up. Your people messed up. We acted wickedly. We didn’t keep your commandments. We’re sorry and we humbly repent. And then Nehemiah asks God’s blessing when he goes to ask the king for a favor. You see, Nehemiah was heartbroken, but he didn’t stay there. After a period of mourning and prayer, he was moved to action. Nehemiah set out to rebuild the wall, with the blessing of the King of Babylon, and he was successful.
A blog post made the rounds among my female clergy friends on social media this past week titled “A Letter from God to Her Daughters Who Observe Lent.”[1] One of the beautiful things said in this letter was broadening the definition of sin. What if sin does not strictly mean breaking God’s rules, but also “when you refuse healing and cling to brokenness”? What if sin means you refuse to be healed and you insist on staying broken? Israel went into exile because they broke God’s commandments and had been warned time and again by God of what would happen. Then, God tells those in exile to settle down and build houses where they are, to seek the prosperity of the place where God has put them. I don’t know if we’re ever told what God said to that remnant who didn’t go into exile but stayed in the ruins of Jerusalem. What about them? Why did they stay and why didn’t they work to rebuild? Why did they stay in the city whose walls were torn down and gates burned up? It takes Nehemiah to come back from exile to start the rebuilding process. No wonder Nehemiah confessed his and his people’s sins first. They had royally messed up, both those who went into exile and those few who stayed. It’s important when rebuilding to know, and own, your story. When rebuilding, you cannot ignore what happened. What happened is now part of your story of redemption. Make sure you know it and tell it appropriately, because how you tell it matters, too. I’ve shared that at my previous church in White Marsh, the pastor before me committed suicide. That little tidbit was something I made sure to mention to the new members who joined the church. We talked about the membership vows and what they mean, and I gave a brief history of the church, so that they wouldn’t suddenly be surprised by it one day and then wonder what other secrets and skeletons the church had. You have to be upfront about your past.
One of the leaders at the church I served as an associate in Chapel Hill would often quote to me this phrase we read from Deuteronomy, “My father was a wandering Aramean.” In other words, here is the beginning of our salvation history. “My father was a wandering Aramean,” refers to Jacob. Jacob had 12 sons, and that was the crew that moved down to Egypt when invited by Joseph, the second youngest son. If you remember, there was a famine everywhere except in Egypt because Joseph had obeyed God’s dream and stored up grain in Egypt during the seven bountiful years in order to be ready for the seven lean years. Jacob’s family grew and became known as the Israelites, Israel being the name given to Jacob after he wrestled with an angel. Then, a new Pharaoh arose who did not know Joseph and instead saw this huge family as a threat and enslaved them. They cried out to God, and God delivered them from slavery and brought them through the wilderness to the Promised Land.
And so when you’re in the Promised Land, and you go to the priest with your offering, you are to tell story of your salvation and what God did for you. It begins back with “My father was a wandering Aramean,” and you tell about the story of how you got from there to where you are now. You don’t forget it or ignore it. It is important to remember what God has done for you, what God has brought you through. Probably not slavery, but sickness, accidents, death, fire, natural catastrophes, divorce, betrayal, injustice, addiction; what else would you add to the list? [Pause for answers.] God has brought you through all that! Isn’t that amazing? Don’t ever forget all that God has done for you! God brought you from darkness into light. God was with you through the valley of the shadow of death. Once you were no people but now you are part of God’s people. Keep telling the story.
Second, by remembering our origin story, by remembering what God has brought us through, we become extremely thankful people. It helps us cultivate an attitude of gratitude and research shows that grateful people are happier and healthier. When we celebrate communion we tell its origin story of Jesus’ last supper with his disciples, on the night when Judas betrayed him, and we call it the Great Thanksgiving. Thank you, Jesus, for instituting the Lord’s supper with bread and the cup. It was in the middle of a very painful night of betrayal and agony, and look how God used it.
Furthermore, we give our offerings out of gratitude. In thanksgiving we return to God the things that are already God’s in the first place. And as Deuteronomy notes, these shouldn’t be just any offerings, but our firstfruits. After payday, the check to the church should be the first one you write. God doesn’t want your leftovers after you’ve made sure you have enough for everything else. Give to God first, and God will make sure you have enough for everything else. I have tithed my entire life, with the exception of the first two years of marriage, because my husband asked for incremental increases to adjust to giving 10% to the church. We’ve had a few seasons where money has been tight, but we still made sure to tithe. If you’re not, then I suggest you figure out what percent you are giving and perhaps increase by one percent. Go from 2% to 3% or from 4.5% to 5.5%. Give it a try for the rest of the year, remember you’re doing it out of thanksgiving for all that God has done for you, and see how it goes.
Finally, there was a song I learned at the Hispanic church I served whose refrain went something like, “God has brought you too far to leave you now.” Part of why you need to remember all that God has brought you through in the past is to have confidence in tomorrow and all that may come in the future. We don’t know the future, but we know who holds the future, and that’s God. God has brought you through times and troubles, disease and famine, what makes you think he’d leave you now? Why would God not continue to see you through and walk with you?
The church I went to in high school sang the Lord’s Prayer. One time in college we thought I might have broken my hand so I had to drink the “Kool-Aid” and then sit still while a machine scanned my hand, bright lights popping up where there was new growth. Throughout that test, I sang the Lord’s Prayer over and over. I did it again this past week when I had an MRI for my head, making sure there’s no lingering damage from my concussion last year. It was interesting, they give you ear plugs and ear muffs and the noise of the machine is still really loud. But I just kept singing over and over again the Lord’s Prayer and I realized the truth about the psalm we read today. “A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you” (Psalm 91:7). The sounds were loud and coming from different sides, but nothing touched me. And if I kept my focus on singing the Lord’s Prayer, then I didn’t get freaked out by all these weird noises. Nothing touched me. Nothing harmed me. And I just kept singing. I remember talking about the test of a good hymn is one you can take to jail with you. Well, for those of us who don’t go to jail but do have medical appointments and tests, I think the test of a good hymn is one you sing during medical tests. God has brought me this far. My hand wasn’t broken back in college, just a bone bruise. I have two chronic diseases. I don’t know the results of the MRI yet, and if they’re normal, then the doctor’s not going to call me. No news is good news.
Remember where you have been and where you might be without God’s grace. Remember and be thankful. You didn’t get here on your own but by God’s grace. Know your origin story and how God delivered you. Be assured that God didn’t bring you this far to leave you now. God has not and will not abandon you. For the Lord “will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.” This is our story, this is our song. This is part of our past, and we build on that going forward.

Friday, March 8, 2019

Return to El Salvador: Vengo Adorar


It had been seven years since I had last been to El Salvador and worked with Bishop Juan de Dios Peña. While a lot looks the same from seven years ago, the Iglesia Evangelica Metodista de El Salvador (IEMES) has been busy! Now 25 years old, the IEMES has 13 churches (with a new church plant planned for January 2020), 15 pastors, and reaches 12,000 people. There are health clinics attached to three of the churches, two of them government run and one owned, run, and funded by the IEMES. These clinics, charging $5/patient and usually offering medicine for free, have seen over 300,000 people! New since my last visit is a mission house, formerly Bishop Peña’s house, renovated in 2014 to sleep 26 adults. Also new is a Methodist school with 420 students from age 4 through grade 9. Even more students applied and were turned away after they reached their enrollment capacity. In addition, land is already bought for a high school. The IEMES has one more hurdle to go through before construction can begin: figuring out how to connect the sewage drainage from the school with the city’s sewers two blocks away.
My companions on this trip were Emma Escobar (Conference Coordinator of Hispanic/Latino Ministries and a native Salvadoran), Rev. Stacey Cole-Wilson (Conference Executive Minister of Justice and Service), and Rev. Tim Warner (pastor of Emory Grove UMC and Mill Creek Parish UMC); these latter two were on their first visit to Central America. Two common themes we heard throughout the week were about trouble with gangs and broken families (the Spanish phrase was ‘familia desentegrada’ – literally, disintegrated family). The family problems lie in often having the father in the U.S., working to send money home, the mother taking on 1-2 jobs herself, and the children then being left unsupervised. Gangs are a related problem as they target children ages 11-14 and threaten, “Either join us or we’ll kill you.” This is why there have been so many unaccompanied minors trying to enter the U.S. – they have literally fled for their lives! (Also, ‘unaccompanied’ means not with their parents; they are usually with another family member or friend and not solo.) When the U.S. saw an increase in minors trying to enter our country, IEMES saw a corresponding decrease in the number of children in their churches. Thanks be to God, however, that there is also a correlation between IEMES becoming more involved in a community and gangs becoming less involved in that community.
We visited six of the churches while we were there. One church has now become the reference point when giving directions within their community. Another church sends people out into their community to gather the children on Sunday morning for Sunday school. Pastor Gloria is from the community where she pastors and as the church became involved in the community, so did the government. The church fasted and prayed for electricity, running water, and a paved road into the community and gradually the government provided each piece. God gave this pastor a detailed vision and slowly it is coming to pass. They have a beautiful church building, complete with a kitchen, which is empty waiting God to provide the $3,000 for appliances. Once stocked, Pastor Gloria has a vision for training women in baking, one of her God-given talents, so that the women can be empowered economically and at the same time, care for their families.
Bishop Peña also took us to two churches near the Guatemala border. One is in a town that used to be on the Pan American Highway, and thrived because of the travelers who passed through and bought their fruit and ‘artesania’ (art and craft work). The new highway bypasses the town and they have been in an economic slump ever since. The other church is in a quiet border town right on the river between the two countries. Bishop Peña took us there to show us how easy some border crossing is: a hanging hammock rope bridge, with fencing on each side, over the river and no check points of any kind on either side. Many Guatemalans cross here each day to work in one of the nearby factories, including Kimberly Clark (Kleenex, Huggies, Cottonelle, etc.). We walked over the bridge to Guatemala, and then, to return, since I alone was dressed for it in short capris, I took off my sandals and waded through the water to cross back, ‘mojada,’ (wet – also the term used for those who cross illegally into the U.S.) into El Salvador.

On the last day, we learned about the ancient history of El Salvador. We visited Joyas de Ceren, a Latin American Pompeii. It’s a whole village buried under 15 layers of ash dating to around 550 A.D. What was interesting was that each house had a room that was for communal use: a meeting room, a community kitchen for special rituals, and a sauna (for purification for rituals, childbirth, etc.). We also visited Tazumal, which dates back to 2,000 B.C. This temple changed hands over the centuries and each new people added onto it, rather than destroy anything pre-existing.
My question this entire time was what can we, the Baltimore-Washington Conference, do that isn’t already being done? What needs can we uniquely fill? There are a few opportunities. One is that 8 of the pastors will be losing their salary funding from GBGM over the next couple years. It’s helpful for pastors to be fully funded ($4,200/year) so that they can focus on their ministry and not also on earning money. Another one is Pastor Gloria’s kitchen, which Rev. Tim Warner is spearheading. Medicine for the clinics can be sent in the suitcase of an accompanying traveler. Sponsorship for students is always welcome. And finally, one that does not necessarily involve finances, Bishop Peña spoke several times about creating sister churches between local congregations, which could be as simple as covenanting to pray for each other and occasionally sharing worship on Skype.
Why did I go to El Salvador? I thought it was because I look for any opportunity I have to strengthen and reconnect with my ties in Central America (before seminary, I served for over a year in Nicaragua and I’m always looking for what that part of my life has to do with my life as a UMC pastor). However, when worship began Tuesday night at Iglesia El Shaddai, tears came to my eyes. ‘Vengo adorar.’ The real reason I went to El Salvador was to worship God with God’s people in Central America.

Thursday, March 7, 2019

The Fast that I (the Lord) Have Chosen


Ash Wednesday
March 6, 2019
Isaiah 58:1-12

            Every minister has a “call Scripture,” a bible passage that God specifically called them through and to do. For me, it’s Isaiah 58, “is not this the kind of fast that I, the Lord, have chosen?” I “discovered” this passage when I was doing my first master’s degree in Philly and it convicted me. “Is this the kind of fast I have chosen, only a day for people to humble themselves? … [Or] Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke…?” When I was in 6th grade my mom began going on yearly medical mission trips to Honduras and Guatemala. I begged to go, too, and my senior year of high school I was allowed to. The team, made up of nurses, doctors, a dentist, and support people, traveled around remote areas of Honduras, setting up a clinic in a different village each day. Having already had five years of Spanish by that point, I helped translate for my mom, who’s a nurse and ran triage for the doctors. I saw a whole different side to the world than I had previously seen: communities without running water, without access to medical care, without paved roads. I’ve seen it a lot now, but that was the first time. And on the plane ride home, after the layover in Miami, I overheard some college students complaining, saying “It sucked that it rained all of spring break.” My thought was, “Let me tell you what sucks. What I’ve just seen about how some people live, that sucks.”
And it changed my trajectory. I was an elementary education major in college and I made it a point to do my observations and tutoring and student teaching in inner city schools. I continued that doing my master’s in education in Philly, tutoring two days a week at an inner city school in north Philadelphia. A couple of my students there invited me into their homes, which were so different than mine, even though we lived in the same city. “Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: …to set the oppressed free and break every yoke? Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—when you see the naked, to clothe them, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?”
            I had always been pious. I knew all the answers in Sunday school. I still went to church every Sunday in college (even if sometimes I fell asleep during the sermon because I went to bed late Saturday night, er, Sunday morning). But these experiences in my late teens and early 20s changed me, because it wasn’t doing good things for my sake, it was doing good things for the sake and well-being of others and, even more importantly, doing the specific good things that God called me to do. Share your food with the hungry. Provide shelter to the stranger and clothing to the person in need of warmth. Loose the chains of injustice and untie the yoke of oppression.
Basically, your faith is not all about you. A personal relationship with Jesus Christ, yes, (although that idea is nowhere in the Bible) and the reason why is so that you can then go out and love the people Jesus loves. I’ll repeat that: the reason why is so that you can then go out and love the people Jesus loves. You can help those who are hurting. You can feed those who are hungry. You can welcome the stranger. You can work to end injustice and oppression. That’s why. Your personal salvation is tied up in the salvation of others. We are saved by faith and not by works, yet if we have faith, it shows itself through our actions. And Jesus calls us to love our neighbor, whether we know our neighbor or not, whether we agree with them or not, whether we like them or not, whether we have a lot in common with them or not. In John 13:35, Jesus says, “Everyone will know you are my disciples, if you love one another.”
Beloved, we have not loved one another. This is part of the prayer of confession. We have failed to love God with our whole heart and we have failed to love our neighbors. We have not heard the cry of the needy. In the Anglican/Episcopal Book of Common Prayer, the prayer of confession says “we have sinned… by what we have done and by what we have left undone” (p. 360). There are times when we actively fail to love our neighbor. When we hear they’re sick and we don’t call or visit. When we see someone on the side of the road who needs help and it’s within our power to help, yet we keep on driving. When we use words that tear down and belittle and ridicule. Then there are times when we passively sin. We leave things undone. A friend says something racist and we don’t call them on it. A family member excludes someone from the table and we want to stay at the table, so we don’t go comfort the person who’s hurting. We could have said a kind word, but we keep our mouths shut and heads down instead. We see other people as objects instead of as people, and then hurt them in order to justify to ourselves how we’re treating them. This is what we see in our country’s politics and what we saw at our denomination’s General Conference last week. O Lord, we repent.
            There is an Advent song called “Waiting for You” by The Many. And yes, I know we’re beginning Lent today, not Advent. The bridge of this song says, “Let us be a sign of hope, let us be your arms of love. Let us be the ones that say, ‘there is another way.’” It’s a song of lament, that things are not as they should be and we are waiting for Jesus to come so that we can sing, “Gloria in Excelsis Deo.” We’re waiting. And while we wait for the redemption of all creation, “let us be a sign of hope, let us be your arms of love. Let us be the ones that say, ‘there is another way.’”
            If you have not yet chosen a discipline for this Lenten season, I encourage you to pick one that is not about you but about helping others. Instead of giving up a food, donate food to a food bank, say one item a day. Instead of giving up TV or social media, take the time to go volunteer, maybe three hours a week. Instead of giving up buying new clothes, give away your old ones that you don’t wear anymore. We even have bags here for you to donate one item each day of Lent.

            And it’s human nature to say, hey, what do I get out of it? Well, Isaiah 58 has an answer for that, too. If you do the kind of fast that the Lord has chosen, “Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard. Then you will call, and the Lord will answer; you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I. If you do away with the yoke of oppression, with the pointing finger and malicious talk, and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday. The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail. Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins and will raise up the age-old foundations; you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls, Restorer of Streets with Dwellings.”
            You’re going to hear more about this “Repairer of Broken Walls and Restorer of Streets with Dwellings” during this Lent. On Sunday mornings we’re going to be talking about restoration and rebuilding. Our call to worship will come from Nehemiah, whose heart broke when he learned about the ruins of Jerusalem. He first prayed and confessed his and his people’s sins to the Lord. And then he set about the work of rebuilding the walls. St. Francis from the early 13th century is another one whose work was to rebuild Christ’s church, which had fallen into disrepair in the Middle Ages. Think selling indulgences and all that mess. St. Francis was from the upper middle class in Assissi and started by caring for lepers. From there, it became a whole movement. The Order of the Franciscans has three vows: poverty, to live simply; chastity, to love everyone and remain celibate; and obedience, to God, to the community, to the Church, and to self.
            This is the kind of fast that the Lord has chosen: not one day to humble yourself, but loosing the chains of injustice, untying the cords of oppression, feeding the hungry, giving clothing to those without, welcoming the stranger, showing love and grace to those Jesus came to save, which is everyone. When we serve, when we pray, when we help and love and act, we should do so recognizing that the person we are serving is a beloved child of God and we are not called to judge them. We’re called to help break their bonds of whatever’s holding them back, poverty, injustice, lack of education, lack of medical care. That’s what we do, regardless of their skin color or their sexual orientation or their legal status or their economic status. That’s the kind of fast that the Lord has chosen. And then “Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins and will raise up the age-old foundations; you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls, Restorer of Streets with Dwellings.” This Lent and always, may we be about that work of building up and feeding and clothing and setting free.