The Mouths of Babes: A First Person Midrash/ Monologue

The Mouths of Babes: A First Person Midrash/ Monologue

It all began because my little Micah began to fuss. But, in all fairness, it had been a long day.

It had begun when my friend Chana hurried up to the well. It was early, even for fetching water, but she and I have found that this is the best time to meet. Each morning we begin our day, at home with our prayers to Ha Shem, and then at the well, the gathering place of our community, with words of friendship. In this way, we begin our days with strength.

“Today!” She said, without even bothering to say “Shalom.” “Today is the day! He is coming, the rabbi.”

Image: “Suffer the Little Children…” Lucas Cranach the Younger (1538), public domain. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

The Little Ones

The Little Ones

We need to sincerely try to understand this phenomenon without waving it away as something merely superstitious or from a more primitive era: In the gospels, demons pose a real threat to people’s health and well-being. Whatever modern science has suggested to us as possible explanations for what the bible calls “possession,” certain behaviors and symptoms people displayed in this place, and at this time, became associated with the presence of evil. That community felt completely helpless against this evil until Jesus came along, and started, in his own way, to root it out. The way of Jesus, the way of God, is healing, and wholeness.

Image: A medieval illustration of Jesus healing the Gerasene demoniac, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

Lady Wisdom Speaks

Lady Wisdom Speaks

I tried to ponder this week exactly what my earliest ideas about wisdom were. I think I always connected wisdom with quiet, with contemplation. I also connected it with certain spaces—a church, certainly, but also, nature. The depths of the ocean reminded me of wisdom, but also the deep umbrella that is the space under a weeping willow. Also, the summit of a mountain—a place that gives you a broad vista, or, as Anne with an E might say, scope for the imagination.

Woman Wisdom doesn’t seem to share any of these notions. She comes charging at us on a city street… think East Main Street at about 5 in the afternoon, everyone rushing somewhere. She uses her voice to take charge at the gates of the city.

Wisdom, apparently, isn’t something only for quiet and reflective times.

Image: “Queen” by Binghamton, NY artist Eve Gray. Used with permission.

Teaching Jesus

Teaching Jesus

Our reasons for being here on a Sunday morning are as varied as we are. I’m sure we all have different combinations of motivations bringing us in these doors. But one reason we’ve all heard, and one we’ve probably all embraced at different moments in our lives is: It’s all about Jesus. We come to learn about Jesus, and we come to learn from Jesus. Jesus is our first and most important teacher when it comes to learning about God, and church would seem to be the right place for us to do that learning, either as Christians or as people who are interested in what Jesus has to say.

In the name of honesty: If we hope to learn from Jesus, the passage I’ve just finished reading, presents us with some challenges. We’ve just read a story about Jesus in which, first, he’s trying to get away from people, and second, in which he pretty rudely rebuffs a mom who’s come to him for help for her daughter…

God's First Fruits

God's First Fruits

This is an urgent letter. James knows that Jesus’ followers are struggling. They are haunted by memories of trauma and loss. They are experiencing the hardships of separation and temptation. How to even begin to offer help, through this slow means of communication? How to encourage them?

James begins by trying to help them find their way back, to re-orient them, to remind them who they are. It’s the spiritual equivalent of asking them to stop, and take a deep breath. He starts with gratitude…

Merry Christmas!

Guest pastor:  Rev. Michelle Wahila

 

Please read Ephesians 3:1-21

 

20 Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, 21 to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

 

I love Christmas: the whole season. I love the music, the baking and even Piccolo, our elf on the shelf. I love walking down the Champs Élysées Christmas market, sipping spiced wine and watching National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, Elf, and Home Alone. What I love most of all is the anticipation of the season. I love preparing for Christmas.

 

I especially enjoy gift wrapping. I love selecting the perfect gift for someone, and then wrapping it with care. I like to pick the perfect wrapping paper – maybe it’s Star Wars paper for my son (or husband), or maybe it’s shiny paper with glitter snowflakes, but whatever it is, it has to fit the person. After selecting the paper, I like to pick the perfect bow. I like to painstakingly tie it, while humming the tune of “simple gifts.” So whether it’s a brown paper package tied up with string, or a Star Wars package with a silver galactic light bow, I love preparing gifts for the people I love.

 

In the same way, if I spotted a leopard print package with a pink bow under our Christmas tree, I might think it was for me. And I would imagine that whatever is inside a perfectly wrapped leopard print box with a pink bow, would be the perfect gift for me…

 

I imagine that this perfect gift would be something I would use all year long. We’ve all had the “other” kind of gifts… the shelf gifts, the white elephants, the perfect “re-gift” gifts… But someone who knows me well enough to wrap my gift in a leopard print box with a pink bow… That’s not going to be a re-gift! That’s going to be the all-year-long gift.

 

So here we are in August, thinking about Christmas gifts! But I am not prematurely thinking forward to the coming Christmas. I actually want you to think back. I wonder if you have used the gift of Christmas well this year? Have you used the gift of Christmas since the 25th?

 

After all, Jesus was not really born on December 25 anyways. No one set up a decorated tree next to the manger in Bethlehem. We don’t have any record of the holy family celebrating the impending birth of the Christ child through a series of company parties and familial gatherings. They didn’t send out cards. The magi didn’t come bearing cookies and fruit cakes.

Today we associate a lot with Christmas that was not present at the first Christmas. These new associations often become distractions from the intent of Christmas. But they can also be wonderful reminders of what is at the heart of Christmas.

The first chapter of the book of John provides a great representation of what happened at the first Christmas: a gift came into the world, a wonderful gift of light. The light was love—a love that dispels darkness, coldness and fear. The light was present in Jesus. Jesus was given that the world may see a witness to light, love and life.

Light. Love. And life.

Those are the gifts of Christmas. Our strange traditions are meant to call our attention back to those words and ideas. We celebrate Christmas to once again be inspired by light, love and life. Trees remind us of life, even the midst of the longest, coldest nights. The lights remind us of the One Light that dispels darkness. The gifts invite us to share and experience love. But the traditions aren’t the point. The season isn’t even the point. Light, love and life are the point.

There are many who shirk anything having to do with Christmas because our celebrations seem hollow. We’re not supposed to act with grace and peace during one season a year. We’re supposed to be people of light, love and life ALL THE TIME.[1]

 

So how can we be a people who use the gifts of Christmas all year long?

 

1.   Open it! Open the Gift. Open His story that it would become yours.

 

Every time we open the Word, we spend time quiet time with God, or we practice prayer, we are given the opportunity to put the things of God’s heart into ours. As God’s child, God takes what is on your heart and combines it with your unique story to drive forward the Kingdom agenda.

 

Paul the disciple to the Gentiles was the persecutor of the church who became a preacher of the Good News. God took all of his story – his religious background and knowledge of the law and stirred in his heart something new.

 

When Paul encountered Jesus it was as if his true self and purpose was awakened. Paul didn’t take that gift of grace, look at it, say “thanks,” and then leave it unopened. Paul also didn’t simply pray for the church, he changed it.

 

Like Paul we are planted in a particular place and time with a particular holy purpose. Don’t be afraid to claim your story and who you are. You can say, “this is me: brave, bruised, but who I am meant to be.”

 

Paul’s testimony was that “God’s grace was sufficient.”[2] Our God is the God who answers our failings with affirmations. Jesus whispers to you: I know your imperfections. I know you who are, but do you know who I am?

 

On your very worst day, when you think your story is finished, Jesus calls you beloved. If you aren’t hearing this, you aren't hearing Jesus. He chose you before creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love, he claims you.[3]

 

This grace is God’s gift to you, on Christmas, and every day. Every day we wake up, we receive this gift again, we can with confidence say, “I belong here.” Our story is His, and it isn’t finished. All of our passion and potential is wrapped up in God’s love for us. Open it up!

 

 

2.  Don’t put it on a shelf after Christmas!

 

You don’t want to take a fabulous gift and just put it on the shelf and not use it the rest of the year. So why we would set aside the gift of Christmas and not use it after January?

 

We certainly need the courage to use the gift of Christmas. I think of the bleeding woman, who had the courage to reach out and touch the hem of Jesus’ garment. She was unclean and unwelcome, but she had the courage to push through the crowd to touch Jesus – to claim her gift, and to be healed, and whole.

 

When we we claim Christ and all his abundance toward us, we become an instrument of God’s grace. We push forward, and help to create a narrative that reflects all of His gifts and goodness. Faith is not just words on a page or in a Christmas Carol, faith is becoming God’s light and God’s love in this world. Like the Spirit moving over the waters, we participate in the story to create something new.

 

Paul wrote to the Ephesians that he became a servant of the Gospel by the gift of God’s grace. He said that he was “least of all of the Lord’s people,” but we don’t think of him like that. What if he had left God’s gift to him on the shelf? What if he met Jesus on the road to Emmaus and he left exactly the same?

 

Paul was a persecutor of the church, called to preach God’s boundless love to the Gentiles. So every time you think you can’t do it, you aren’t enough, or you don’t have enough, remember that like Paul, you are a part God’s story.

 

There is nothing worse than ignoring your passion and potential! Don’t put your gifts and talents on a shelf because you aren’t here just for you. You are living not just for yourself but for future generations. Your problems are not an excuse, but your platform for changing the world. Your story is your legacy.

 

We may not be in prison for the Gospel like Paul was, but we are captive to our purpose in Christ. We are called to reflect God’s light and should be captivated by the task. Wherever we are and in whatever we are facing, we can be a reflection of Christ. When people meet you they should meet Jesus. So don’t put Jesus on a shelf on December 26th.

 

 

 

3.  Re-gift it.

 

Unlike most “re-gifts,” that you probably don’t want… The gift of Jesus is a gift that you want to receive and to give. This is the perfect re-gift because it was meant to be given. The God who was willing to come down and see about you, wants you to see about others.

 

On Christmas we celebrate Emmanuel – “God with us.” This is the God who infiltrates the nitty-gritty of our lives. The humble baby born in manager brought light into the darkness. He came to reach the unreachable and to find the lost.

 

The manger at Christmas means that, if you live like Jesus, there won’t be room for you in a lot of inns.[4] The gift of Jesus is one that pushes us beyond what is comfortable. It’s a Christmas table that includes the estranged relative, and the stranger.

 

But it also comes with the affirmation that when you don’t know what to do, or how to help, or what to give, God does. After Paul tells his story, and reflects on his purpose he gives a blessing. 20 Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, 21 to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever!

 

Paul’s blessing to the Ephesians is God’s promise to us. God’s power is at work in us. There may not be an angel speaking to you, no scroll coming down from heaven to tell you your Kingdom purpose, but God can do more with you than you could ever imagine.

 

Christmas draws us back to this. It is a compass reorienting us to what God is doing in the world: bringing more light, life and love. It can be a time to set habits that move us closer to being people who share light, life, and love all the time.

 

When we open the gifts of Christmas and chose to creatively be a part of God’s plan, re-gifting becomes pretty simple: Love everybody anyways. Inevitably, this will draw us back to the people we want to love the least, but they are probably the ones who need us to love them the most.

 

Love everybody anyways. Simple, but not easy. I don’t know what this looks like for you – but I am quite certain you have one or two Ebenezer Scrooges in your life. We all do. Deep down we want the Hallmark version of Christmas, but that’s hardly the way the gift of Jesus goes.

 

Maybe it’s simply important to remember that the first Christmas didn’t take place in a church, but outside in the cold and dark of night, given to those who didn’t belong. I’m not sure how this community of faith will choose to translate that – politically, economically, or practically, but I do know that it will draw you back to hard questions and grey spaces, all year long.

 

The Gospel message is taking the people you are avoiding and giving them your very best. The only thing this re-gift requires is your faith, expressed in love. Faith expressed in love is made up of everyday actions and the everyday choice to love. Through you, through your story, and by your hands the gift of Christmas is given, reflecting Jesus into the world. Be a people of light, life, and love every day. Merry Christmas!

 

[1] From the Rethink Church Blog. Dunn, Ryan. “Rethinking Christmas Tradition.”

[2] See 2 Corinthians 12:9

[3] See Ephesians 1:3-6

[4] Keller, Timothy. “Hidden Christmas.” 119.

Tenderhearted Living

Tenderhearted Living

I don’t know where this story originated. I don't know whether it was something captured in a video, or originally part of an article, or a post on social media such. All I know is, once I heard it, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

You may have seen it, or heard it. It is a story about a couple, and they are fighting—they are angry, they are yelling. And, in the same room with them, there is a small child, a toddler. And, at some point, the toddler picks up the TV remote, and aims it at their parents, and tries to turn it off.

That Nothing May Be Lost

That Nothing May Be Lost

Some stories need to be told again and again and again, and this is one of them.

Jesus feeds a multitude of people. Here’s how much this story needs to be told: It needs to be told so much, the four gospels tell it six times.

The shape of the story is always, essentially, the same, but some of the details are strikingly different. In every account, Jesus has been speaking to the people, sharing the good news with them. As a result, the people are following him, even when he is trying to get away, to get some rest. In almost every account, Jesus has been healing the people, laying hands on them and curing them. And at some point, Jesus looks at the people, and looks at his disciples, and says something to the effect of, “How are we going to feed these people?”

Image: Jesus feeds the multitudes, Mafa Jesus, Cameroon.

Let It Be

Let It Be

And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree

There will be an answer, let it be

For though they may be parted, there is still a chance that they will see

There will be an answer, let it be 

How do you do that? How do you just trust that, “It will be all right,” and “Let it be”? When, it’s not that your favorite band broke up, it’s that your life broke up. When, it’s not that some great music disappeared, but that your hope flew away, and all you can see around you is brokenness, everywhere. How can you just let it be?

Here Comes the Sun

Here Comes the Sun

In the middle of the Babylonian exile, the prophet Jeremiah wrote,

The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will raise up for David a righteous Branch, and he shall reign as king and deal wisely, and shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. In his days Judah will be saved and Israel will live in safety. And this is the name by which he will be called: “The Lord is our righteousness.”        ~ Jeremiah 23:5-6

We, as Christians, claim Jesus as that righteous branch raised up from David’s line. But even we have to admit: this version of the world does not yet exist. Some of us will read or hear this passage and feel like we live in a world stuck in the valley of the shadow of death. But this is a word of deep hope and great comfort, and I invite us to find it, and to revel in it.

Image: Le Breton, Jacques ; Gaudin, Jean. Jesus the Good Shepherd, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN.

Nowhere Man

Nowhere Man

Most of today’s reading is a flashback. As our passage opens, the very first thing we learn is that Jesus’ disciples are out and about doing the work they have learned from Jesus: they are proclaiming that people should repent—that wonderful Greek word, metanoia, which actually means, to turn around; to get a new view; to see, not with our own eyes, but with God’s. And they are casting out demons—helping people to get free of the things that are hurting them, driving them crazy, holding them down. And they are anointing people with God’s healing balm, bringing them to fullness of life and love.

Jesus’ disciples have learned well. They have learned from the master. They are all about bringing new life.

And word gets around, and some say, “Sounds like Elijah,” and some others say, “Sounds like one of the prophets.” But when word gets to Herod… well, actually, I think his reaction is to become wide-eyed and terrified. I can see him, looking like he’s seen a ghost, and he has. His reaction is a haunted, “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised.”

Image: John the Baptist, Leonardo da Vinci (1513-16), courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

In My Life

In My Life

There is no other human love story in scripture that takes up as many verses as the story of David and Jonathan. It takes place over fifteen chapters in First and Second Samuel. And scholars have struggled with the relationship, many of them glossing over the language used in the bible by comparing it to the intense and intimate relationships between soldiers who serve together in armed combat, in ancient times as well as today. But the story speaks for itself.

Help! Tell Me What You See

Help! Tell Me What You See

For many people, the rubber only really hits the road in the life of faith when they arrive at a moment like this. A moment when you realize, this stuff is getting real. A moment when, for the first time in your life, you understand what fear is, real fear of real danger, or loss, or what one theologian calls “disorientation…,” that things have gone badly wrong, and you have no way to fix them. And at that moment, you utter one of the three essential prayers outlined by Anne Lamott: Help.

A Family of Choice

A Family of Choice

Family. It’s such a beautiful word. It speaks of love, and tenderness, and connection, and responsibility. It speaks of milestones like the first step and the last day of school senior year. It is seen in pictures of smiling people leaning together and also in inside-jokes that leave those in the know in stitches. It’s a beautiful thing—or, it can be.

Family. It’s such a loaded word. Whose family? Yours or mine? A family in which the parents are married or not? In which the parents are of the same sex or opposite sexes? A family with children or without? A family in which the primary caregivers for children are parents, or one in which they are grandparents, or aunts, or uncles, or folks in the foster system?

Here’s a family story…

Trinity Sunday: Naming God

Trinity Sunday: Naming God

Welcome to the only day in the church calendar that is entirely devoted to a theological claim. It’s Trinity Sunday! Today we do not commemorate something specific that happened, as we did last Sunday with the story of Pentecost—the sending of the Spirit in wind and fire, the miracle of communication as the story of Jesus was shared, the birth of the church among Jesus’ followers. Nothing like that. Instead, the Consultation on Church Union—an ecumenical body that created the Revised Common Lectionary I generally use for preaching—that body invites us to join together with churches all around the world in pondering the mystery of the Trinity, an understanding of the nature of God that arose in first centuries of the church, and which was declared orthodox doctrine at the Council of Nicaea in the year 325 AD.

Many pastors like to call this “Heresy Sunday,” because, let’s be frank, everyone is on thin ice trying to describe something that scripture fails to name or define….

Image: Jesus healing the paralytic in Capernaum, Church of Santa Appolinare Nuovo, Ravenna, Italy. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

Pentecost Sunday: What Does This Mean?

Pentecost Sunday: What Does This Mean?

All these layers are present in this moment when a mighty wind sweeps through the place where Jesus’ friends and followers are gathered, when fire seems to fall on them, when they are moved to go out into the city, out amongst the thousands and thousands of pilgrims, and speak out, speak the word, stand up and tell the story of Jesus.

Something astonishing happens out there. Something unexpected, and unequalled. Jesus and his friends and followers are all Galileans. That means their native tongue is Aramaic, and they are no doubt preaching in their native tongue.  But people are gathered from all over the world… Parthians, Medes, Elamites and so forth. I’ll use the modern names for the countries all these empires stretched across 1,988 years ago. There were people from the places we know as Iraq, Iran, Kuwait, Saudi Arabia, Syria, Asia Minor, Anatolia, Turkey, Greece, Egypt, and Libya. People who had traveled from all these places heard the friends and followers of Jesus speaking, and they understood them, just as if they were speaking their very own languages…

Image Courtesy of Clipart-Libary.com.

Easter 7: Why Are You Staring Up At Heaven?

Easter 7: Why Are You Staring Up At Heaven?

magine with me, living in the days when Jesus lived, and moved, and had his being firmly planted in the world, and also, turned it upside down. But imagine you are not one of the followers of Jesus, but, instead a friend of theirs. A relative. You’re the mother of Matthew the tax collector. You’re the son of Simon Peter. You’re a neighbor of Mary Magdalene. You’re a cousin of James the lesser.

And one day, you are cleaning your nets, or kneading dough to bake bread, or standing deliberating at the gates of the city, or waiting by the well for your turn to draw water, and your loved one comes rushing up to you.

“We saw Jesus again today! And this time, we saw him lifted up into the sky! Yes, I know I’ve told you he was raised from the dead, and he’s been around for more than a month, but now he’s gone again… he just rose into heaven, in a cloud, and then he was gone.”

And what do you think you would have said to this loved one of yours?

Image: “Ascension” by Javanese artist Bagong Kussudiardja