My heart is hurting this morning. It's been hurting since Saturday. It's actually been hurting for a long while now. About a year ago, I got a call from the church receptionist telling me that there was a young man upstairs looking to talk to someone. Our custodian brought him downstairs, and I immediately recognized him as a young man who worked at Target--pretty sad that I go there so much that I know their employess, but that's another story for another day. Although this was the first time I had met him, I could see sadness in his eyes. I asked him where the sadness was coming from, and he told me that he was a gay 19-year-old, that he had grown up in a very religious family who had shunned him and turned him away when he came out to them. It broke my heart that his family--any family--could do that to someone they loved. Even though my family certainly doesn't agree on much or see eye-to-eye on many things, I could tell them anything about myself and they would still love me anyway--for that, I am very grateful. This young broke my heart, and I told him that, even though he didn't feel much love from his family, that God loved him dearly. He told me that I was the first person who had reminded him of that since he had come out. Heartbreaking.
When I served on the Church Orders and Ministry Committee at General Assembly this summer, the committee heard stories from folks who came and beared their hearts to us. Some told us that they had been with someone from the same gender and had come to see it as sin and repented of their actions. Some shared with us that they had felt same-gender attraction but had never acted upon it. Some told us that Jesus had saved them from a "homosexual lifestyle" (their words). Some told us that they had had gay Sunday school teachers and youth leaders who were the best and most creative and most wonderful teachers that they had ever had in the church. And others told us that God created them gay, that their parents had always loved and accepted them wholeheartedly, and that they felt called to serve the Lord in the church--the church who was struggling over whether or not to validate that call. All heartbreaking.
My heart has been broken since this past Saturday, as my family and I were walking to Jordan-Hare Stadium for the Auburn game. There were 3 teenagers in front of us, one a young man dressed in skinny jeans and a tight t-shirt. One group of folks walked past him and a student yelled at him--for no reason--"Hey, did you know that you're gay?" I couldn't believe it. And then, 30 seconds later, another student who was walking the opposite way intentionally changed his course and walked right into this young man. The young man said, "Hey, watch where you're going!" And the student yelled a slur back at him, a two word slur, both words starting with the letter F. To say that I was pissed off was putting lightly. Reacting with my own anger, I yelled back at the student, "I can't believe you just said that! So inappropriate and so wrong!" I was pissed, but I now admit that it probably wasn't the best way to approach the situation. I patted the young man on the back, telling him how sorry I was that it had just happened and he thanked me. My heart broke for this young man, that in a span of 30 seconds, he was abused physically, emotionally, and spiritually.
And now, three stories have come out this week about young gay men who have been abused. A thirteen-year-old attempted suicide after being subjected to gay slurs from his classmates. He was just taken off life support: http://www.aolnews.com/surge-desk/article/seth-walsh-dies-after-suicide-attempt-another-teen-bullied-over-perceived-sexuality/19653569. A freshman at Rutgers University jumped off a building this week after his roommate, without his consent, videotaped him having sex with another man and put it online: http://www.nj.com/news/index.ssf/2010/09/hold_new_rutgers_post.html. And in the most unbelievable case of all, an assistant DA in Michigan is harassing the student body president at the University of Michigan: http://articles.cnn.com/2010-09-28/us/michigan.justice.blog_1_gay-student-student-government-minority-students?_s=PM:US. Seriously--there is an assistant district attorney for the state of Alabama who is an elder at my church, and I know how much time his job takes up, how busy he is, how hard he works. Does this guy in Michigan need more work to do instead of harassing this college student?
My heart is breaking today. I have seen with my own eyes how young gay folks are harassed, and I can't imagine having to live with that kind of crap every day. The suicide stories break my heart, perhaps because I have experienced the suicide of someone who was and is so dear to me. It still hurts each day, and I know the aftershocks that suicide leaves for family, friends, and the community. This has to stop. A twitter post from the Unvirtuous Abbey this morning sums up why my heart is broken: "Lord, you who placed a child on your knee & said the kingdom belongs to such as these, we pray for teens bullied b/c of their sexuality. Amen." Jesus said to them, "Let the little children come unto me, for it is as such to these that the kingdom of God belongs." Let it be so.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
The Chasm Always With Us--sermon 9/26/10
The Chasm Always With Us
19 "There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and lived in luxury every day. 20 At his gate was laid a beggar named Lazarus, covered with sores 21 and longing to eat what fell from the rich man's table. Even the dogs came and licked his sores. 22 "The time came when the beggar died and the angels carried him to Abraham's side. The rich man also died and was buried. 23 In hell, where he was in torment, he looked up and saw Abraham far away, with Lazarus by his side. 24 So he called to him, 'Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.' 25 "But Abraham replied, 'Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, while Lazarus received bad things, but now he is comforted here and you are in agony. 26 And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who want to go from here to you cannot, nor can anyone cross over from there to us.' 27 "He answered, 'Then I beg you, father, send Lazarus to my father's house, 28 for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment.' 29 "Abraham replied, 'They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them.' 30 " 'No, father Abraham,' he said, 'but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.' 31 "He said to him, 'If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.' "
Luke 16:19-31
The chasm was there, then, so long ago. The great chasm between the rich and poor, between the popular and forgotten, the chasm between the healthy and the sick, between those who had much and those who had nothing at all. There was a rich man, a man who was dressed in purple linen, as our story tells us—the purple linen of royalty that signified his status in the world as rich. Our story tells us that he lacked for nothing. His clothes were expensive and luxurious, his table covered with the best food at each meal. The man, when compared to the man who lay at his gates, was presumably healthy. This rich man had all that he needed, or so he thought. And then there was the poor man, Lazarus, who laid at the opulent gates of the rich man. He spent his days begging for food because he had nothing, even content to eat the scraps that fell from the table, the scraps normally reserved for the dogs of the home. His body was covered with sores, and he probably didn’t have enough clothes to wear to cover himself—for as the story tells us, even the dogs came and licked at his festering wounds.
Sadly, the chasm still exists today. There were two women, both in their late twenties, both employed by a church. One woman, though far from having the riches that the man in our story had, was rich in many ways. She was raised in a stable home by two parents who had been raised in Alabama, whose parents had valued education, whose parents had never had to endure the legacies of slavery or discrimination. The woman’s parents placed a high value on education—and although they sometimes had to work 2 jobs at a time to make sure their children had everything they needed, as well as money for college, they did it. As the woman was growing up, she always had ample meals and clothes for her body and a comfortable bed to sleep in under the shelter of a secure roof. Since her parents had always valued education so much, there was never any doubt that the woman would be able to go to college—and she did. Although she paid off loans until just a few years ago, she was able to go to a prestigious liberal arts college and then on to get her masters of divinity in seminary. The woman was able to find a full time job as an associate pastor for youth ministry, one with more than enough pay and ample health care benefits. Although she wasn’t one of our society’s highest wage earners, she was able to put more than enough food on her table, buy the work clothes that she needed from first-hand stores, buy gifts for her niece and nephew, and even spend some money on nice trips around the world. She was even able to save up and move from renting into home ownership, all the while saving a little money. She gave money to her church’s annual Thanksgiving Meal drive, and took pleasure in taking the meals to folks who couldn’t afford to come get them for themselves.
And the other woman? She was born into a poorer family, a family whose members had been subject to the discrimination of the South, especially the woeful discrimination that came from being an African-American in the state of Alabama. She was born into a family in which her relatives were lucky enough to graduate from high school without the option of college. Since she had graduated from high school, this woman had been working two part-time jobs, one as a nursery worker at the church and the other as a cashier/food preparer at a local buffet in town. She loved her job as a nursery worker, raising those children as though they were her own, sending them postcard for their birthdays even though she could barely afford stamps, buying them small gifts for them at the dollar store. Although she was one of the hardest and most loyal workers around, she was never offered the benefits of good health insurance—instead she had to depend on Medicaid. At one point, she even had to turn down the small raise that the church was offering her since it would put her just above the poverty line, forcing her off of Medicaid to look for more expensive health care. Since her second job required her to work odd hours, she always had to find care for her two children, care that came from relatives since she couldn’t afford child care. Since she only earned minimum wage, she barely able to afford the needs of her life such as groceries, power bills, and second-hand clothing for her children and herself, much less any “wants.” True, she had a roof over her head, but it wasn’t a nice one—it was certainly not big enough for her needs. And instead of giving to the aforementioned Thanksgiving meal drive, this woman came and asked for 2 sets of meals for her family each year.
These two women loved each other as dear friends, and one of them was very sad to leave her friend as she accepted a new call as a campus minister here in Auburn. In many ways, they were the same, but in so many others, they were so different. The chasm between the rich and the poor was certainly easily seen and felt between them. The chasm has always been with us—and sadly that chasm between the rich and the poor has only deepened and widened in the last few years. For those of us who come from the perspective of the rich man, and let’s face it—that is most of us gathered here simply because of the fact that we are Americans, it is so hard to look around us and see the pain of poverty that exists in the world. It is so much easier to ignore it or overlook it or walk right past it or ease our own guilt by saying, “They are just like me-they just made a mistake that helped them end up like this. It’s their fault.”
It is so much easier to be selfish and make excuses and walk through life with blinders on, so much easier to think that we are all the same, all have the same opportunities, the same chances, to think that we can all end up in the same place if we just try hard enough. I love how Barbara Brown Taylor puts it:
Most of us learned a long time ago that the chief person we are responsible for is ourselves. We have been put on earth to love our neighbors, but changing their lot in life is up to them, not us . . . the great American myth is that anyone willing to work hard can win first prize. It might be true if everyone were standing at the same starting line when the gun went off, but that is never the case. Some start from so far back that they can run until their lungs burst and never even see the dust of the front runners. Those are the hardest cases . . . people who have inherited poverty as surely as they have inherited brown eyes or curly hair . . . who hear the starting gun go off and do not even know which way to run.
You see, contrary to what our culture encourages us to believe, I truly believe that we don’t line up next to each other at the starting line—that some of us start so far back that we can never dream of the day when we might pull ahead, never even dream of passing leader at the front of the line. Contrary even to what the church sometimes encourages us to believe through the prosperity gospel—that if we work hard enough for God and trust God enough and pray to God enough, that God will bless us with monetary riches, I believe that there are some folks who, while they are dirt poor in monetary riches, have the deepest and truest and most pure faith in Christ that there is (and my co-worker in Decatur is one of those folks, one of the most faithful people I know). I also truly believe that this loving our neighbors stuff is the core of the gospel of Christ. Every single thing that Christ does reminds us, teaches us, chastises us, commands us to love our neighbors. We are called to love our neighbors by not assuming that their mistakes in life have brought them to their lowest points, but by asking them their life stories, listening to them with intent and purpose. We are called to love our neighbors not by judging or condemning them, but by sharing our faith experience, our faith story with them—and by opening ourselves up to hear theirs. We are called to love our neighbors not by walking over them as they beg at our doorsteps, but by picking them up, welcoming them, giving them the clothes off our back and preparing a feast for them.
The chasm between the rich and the poor is a constant and everlasting refrain in our world, and probably always will be. Jesus does say, after all, that the poor will always be with us. And I think part of the reason he says that is because we constantly fail to do our part for the poor. The chasm is with us, but our challenge—our call—is to make that chasm much less big, much less broad, much less wide. For as much as Jesus says that the poor will be with us, he says so much more that the rich are called to give everything that they have, to feed people, to clothe them, to give them drink, to give them shelter, to listen to them, to share with them, to give them relief. There is a thread that runs through our faith tradition, a thread that runs through the laws of Moses, through the stories of the prophets, a thread that comes to ultimate expression in through the teaching of Christ—the thread that tells us that God’s side is with the poor, the thread that inspires Jesus to command that we give all that we have and all that we are, the thread that tells us that giving is the essential and necessary and life-giving.
It is true that the chasm between the rich and poor is always with us, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t work our hands to the bone trying to make it smaller, work our hands to the bone trying to make the distance between the starting line and the back of the pack a little shorter. There is a constant thread, a constant refrain that runs through the Gospel—the refrain that tells us to do something about the chasm between the rich and the poor. It is there. So are we going to listen?
The chasm was there, then, so long ago. The great chasm between the rich and poor, between the popular and forgotten, the chasm between the healthy and the sick, between those who had much and those who had nothing at all. There was a rich man, a man who was dressed in purple linen, as our story tells us—the purple linen of royalty that signified his status in the world as rich. Our story tells us that he lacked for nothing. His clothes were expensive and luxurious, his table covered with the best food at each meal. The man, when compared to the man who lay at his gates, was presumably healthy. This rich man had all that he needed, or so he thought. And then there was the poor man, Lazarus, who laid at the opulent gates of the rich man. He spent his days begging for food because he had nothing, even content to eat the scraps that fell from the table, the scraps normally reserved for the dogs of the home. His body was covered with sores, and he probably didn’t have enough clothes to wear to cover himself—for as the story tells us, even the dogs came and licked at his festering wounds.
Sadly, the chasm still exists today. There were two women, both in their late twenties, both employed by a church. One woman, though far from having the riches that the man in our story had, was rich in many ways. She was raised in a stable home by two parents who had been raised in Alabama, whose parents had valued education, whose parents had never had to endure the legacies of slavery or discrimination. The woman’s parents placed a high value on education—and although they sometimes had to work 2 jobs at a time to make sure their children had everything they needed, as well as money for college, they did it. As the woman was growing up, she always had ample meals and clothes for her body and a comfortable bed to sleep in under the shelter of a secure roof. Since her parents had always valued education so much, there was never any doubt that the woman would be able to go to college—and she did. Although she paid off loans until just a few years ago, she was able to go to a prestigious liberal arts college and then on to get her masters of divinity in seminary. The woman was able to find a full time job as an associate pastor for youth ministry, one with more than enough pay and ample health care benefits. Although she wasn’t one of our society’s highest wage earners, she was able to put more than enough food on her table, buy the work clothes that she needed from first-hand stores, buy gifts for her niece and nephew, and even spend some money on nice trips around the world. She was even able to save up and move from renting into home ownership, all the while saving a little money. She gave money to her church’s annual Thanksgiving Meal drive, and took pleasure in taking the meals to folks who couldn’t afford to come get them for themselves.
And the other woman? She was born into a poorer family, a family whose members had been subject to the discrimination of the South, especially the woeful discrimination that came from being an African-American in the state of Alabama. She was born into a family in which her relatives were lucky enough to graduate from high school without the option of college. Since she had graduated from high school, this woman had been working two part-time jobs, one as a nursery worker at the church and the other as a cashier/food preparer at a local buffet in town. She loved her job as a nursery worker, raising those children as though they were her own, sending them postcard for their birthdays even though she could barely afford stamps, buying them small gifts for them at the dollar store. Although she was one of the hardest and most loyal workers around, she was never offered the benefits of good health insurance—instead she had to depend on Medicaid. At one point, she even had to turn down the small raise that the church was offering her since it would put her just above the poverty line, forcing her off of Medicaid to look for more expensive health care. Since her second job required her to work odd hours, she always had to find care for her two children, care that came from relatives since she couldn’t afford child care. Since she only earned minimum wage, she barely able to afford the needs of her life such as groceries, power bills, and second-hand clothing for her children and herself, much less any “wants.” True, she had a roof over her head, but it wasn’t a nice one—it was certainly not big enough for her needs. And instead of giving to the aforementioned Thanksgiving meal drive, this woman came and asked for 2 sets of meals for her family each year.
These two women loved each other as dear friends, and one of them was very sad to leave her friend as she accepted a new call as a campus minister here in Auburn. In many ways, they were the same, but in so many others, they were so different. The chasm between the rich and the poor was certainly easily seen and felt between them. The chasm has always been with us—and sadly that chasm between the rich and the poor has only deepened and widened in the last few years. For those of us who come from the perspective of the rich man, and let’s face it—that is most of us gathered here simply because of the fact that we are Americans, it is so hard to look around us and see the pain of poverty that exists in the world. It is so much easier to ignore it or overlook it or walk right past it or ease our own guilt by saying, “They are just like me-they just made a mistake that helped them end up like this. It’s their fault.”
It is so much easier to be selfish and make excuses and walk through life with blinders on, so much easier to think that we are all the same, all have the same opportunities, the same chances, to think that we can all end up in the same place if we just try hard enough. I love how Barbara Brown Taylor puts it:
Most of us learned a long time ago that the chief person we are responsible for is ourselves. We have been put on earth to love our neighbors, but changing their lot in life is up to them, not us . . . the great American myth is that anyone willing to work hard can win first prize. It might be true if everyone were standing at the same starting line when the gun went off, but that is never the case. Some start from so far back that they can run until their lungs burst and never even see the dust of the front runners. Those are the hardest cases . . . people who have inherited poverty as surely as they have inherited brown eyes or curly hair . . . who hear the starting gun go off and do not even know which way to run.
You see, contrary to what our culture encourages us to believe, I truly believe that we don’t line up next to each other at the starting line—that some of us start so far back that we can never dream of the day when we might pull ahead, never even dream of passing leader at the front of the line. Contrary even to what the church sometimes encourages us to believe through the prosperity gospel—that if we work hard enough for God and trust God enough and pray to God enough, that God will bless us with monetary riches, I believe that there are some folks who, while they are dirt poor in monetary riches, have the deepest and truest and most pure faith in Christ that there is (and my co-worker in Decatur is one of those folks, one of the most faithful people I know). I also truly believe that this loving our neighbors stuff is the core of the gospel of Christ. Every single thing that Christ does reminds us, teaches us, chastises us, commands us to love our neighbors. We are called to love our neighbors by not assuming that their mistakes in life have brought them to their lowest points, but by asking them their life stories, listening to them with intent and purpose. We are called to love our neighbors not by judging or condemning them, but by sharing our faith experience, our faith story with them—and by opening ourselves up to hear theirs. We are called to love our neighbors not by walking over them as they beg at our doorsteps, but by picking them up, welcoming them, giving them the clothes off our back and preparing a feast for them.
The chasm between the rich and the poor is a constant and everlasting refrain in our world, and probably always will be. Jesus does say, after all, that the poor will always be with us. And I think part of the reason he says that is because we constantly fail to do our part for the poor. The chasm is with us, but our challenge—our call—is to make that chasm much less big, much less broad, much less wide. For as much as Jesus says that the poor will be with us, he says so much more that the rich are called to give everything that they have, to feed people, to clothe them, to give them drink, to give them shelter, to listen to them, to share with them, to give them relief. There is a thread that runs through our faith tradition, a thread that runs through the laws of Moses, through the stories of the prophets, a thread that comes to ultimate expression in through the teaching of Christ—the thread that tells us that God’s side is with the poor, the thread that inspires Jesus to command that we give all that we have and all that we are, the thread that tells us that giving is the essential and necessary and life-giving.
It is true that the chasm between the rich and poor is always with us, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t work our hands to the bone trying to make it smaller, work our hands to the bone trying to make the distance between the starting line and the back of the pack a little shorter. There is a constant thread, a constant refrain that runs through the Gospel—the refrain that tells us to do something about the chasm between the rich and the poor. It is there. So are we going to listen?
Sunday, September 12, 2010
My Shepherd Will Supply My Need
You know, I really, really wish that I had a good singing voice. Or that I could play an instrument (I played handbells at church when I was a teenager, but had to mark the notes in red for my left hand and green for my right--so that doesn't really count). I know that God has given me many and varied gifts, but music is not one of them--at least not the ability to play it or make it. But God has given me the gift of loving music. From the very first time I heard the Indigo Girls over 20 years ago, I have loved them. There is something about their lyrics and their harmony and their message that still moves me to this day. I love the music from Broadway musicals--from the story of struggling artists who live and love as each day is their last in "Rent" to the idea of how quickly we can judge folks and deem them as "Wicked," to the story of war and love and revolution that is told in "Les Miserables."
Music is something that is so dear to my heart, and no music moves me more than hymns. For me, Advent does not truly begin until we sing "Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus" (even sang it during my ordination service), and Good Friday does not truly happen until we sing "Were You There?" One hymn will always hold a special place in my heart because it was sung at the funerals of two women whom I loved dearly--one of my second moms, Jeanne Isaacs, and my Granny. The last verse of "Love Divine, All Loves Excelling" is sung this way: "Finish then, thy new creation, pure and spotless let us be. Let us see thy new salvation, perfecly restored in thee. Changed from glory into glory, til in heaven we take our place. Til we cast our crowns before thee, lost in wonder, love and grace." Kind of shines a new light on the meaning of resurrection, doesn't it?
These hymns hold a very special place in my heart, but a new one jumped out at me during our worship today at First Pres., Auburn. I'm not sure why it moved me so, but it did. Here are the words:
My Shepherd will supply my need; Jehovah is His Name. In pastures fresh He makes me feed, beside the living stream. He brings my wandering spirit back when I forsake His ways, and leads me, for His mercy’s sake, in paths of truth and grace.
When I walk through the shades of death, thy presence is my stay; one word of Your supporting breath drives all my fears away. Your hand, in sight of all my foes, does still my table spread; my cup with blessings overflows, Your oil anoints my head.
The sure provisions of my God attend me all my days; O may Your house be my abode, and all my work be praise. There would I find a settled rest, while others go and come; no more a stranger, or a guest, but like a child at home.
I really don't know why it moved me so much today or struck me the way it did. Perhaps it's because I've been thinking so much about our Muslim brothers and sisters in the light of the New York Muslim community center--and because of this crazy pastor in Florida who thought he could and should use religion as a wedge to further divide and alienate us from each other. Where he sees "foes" in Muslims, I see "guests," guests who should be welcomed at the table instead of thrown away from it. This hymn helped me verbalize what I've been feeling for some time now--that God sets a table for all of us, welcomes us, anoints us, and calls us home, and that, instead of fighting each other to the point of alienation over our differences, we should sit down and eat and talk and share about what unites us.
Maybe this hymn moved me so much today because I've been thinking about my friend Drew, one of my students, who took his own life almost 3 years ago now. I actually have thought about him every day since then, but my thoughts have intensified over the past few weeks. One of my students and I were talking about that whole experience the other day, and I told him that I wouldn't have made it through those long months after the funeral without the help and support of my faith community--that when I couldn't say affirmations of faith, my community said them for me. When I didn't even have the energy to say a prayer, my faith community said them for me. This hymn helped me to realize that, when I walked through the shades of death, God was present for me in the form of so many folks who asked me how I was doing, folks who said prayers for me, people who hugged me or simply sat with me as my tears fell. They were God's "supporting breath" for me. The faith community was and is a "blessing" for me, and Drew's brother, Daniel (who is now an awesome PSFer at Auburn) is certainly a blessing through is faithfulness. Now that I think about it, God did bring my wandering spirit back and provided me with living water. And God is still at work, providing that living water in my times of doubt and questions and in my times of wander.
There is just something that moved me about this hymn today. Who knows--maybe it will happen again next week. Maybe it won't. But I'll be listening--and singing!
Music is something that is so dear to my heart, and no music moves me more than hymns. For me, Advent does not truly begin until we sing "Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus" (even sang it during my ordination service), and Good Friday does not truly happen until we sing "Were You There?" One hymn will always hold a special place in my heart because it was sung at the funerals of two women whom I loved dearly--one of my second moms, Jeanne Isaacs, and my Granny. The last verse of "Love Divine, All Loves Excelling" is sung this way: "Finish then, thy new creation, pure and spotless let us be. Let us see thy new salvation, perfecly restored in thee. Changed from glory into glory, til in heaven we take our place. Til we cast our crowns before thee, lost in wonder, love and grace." Kind of shines a new light on the meaning of resurrection, doesn't it?
These hymns hold a very special place in my heart, but a new one jumped out at me during our worship today at First Pres., Auburn. I'm not sure why it moved me so, but it did. Here are the words:
My Shepherd will supply my need; Jehovah is His Name. In pastures fresh He makes me feed, beside the living stream. He brings my wandering spirit back when I forsake His ways, and leads me, for His mercy’s sake, in paths of truth and grace.
When I walk through the shades of death, thy presence is my stay; one word of Your supporting breath drives all my fears away. Your hand, in sight of all my foes, does still my table spread; my cup with blessings overflows, Your oil anoints my head.
The sure provisions of my God attend me all my days; O may Your house be my abode, and all my work be praise. There would I find a settled rest, while others go and come; no more a stranger, or a guest, but like a child at home.
I really don't know why it moved me so much today or struck me the way it did. Perhaps it's because I've been thinking so much about our Muslim brothers and sisters in the light of the New York Muslim community center--and because of this crazy pastor in Florida who thought he could and should use religion as a wedge to further divide and alienate us from each other. Where he sees "foes" in Muslims, I see "guests," guests who should be welcomed at the table instead of thrown away from it. This hymn helped me verbalize what I've been feeling for some time now--that God sets a table for all of us, welcomes us, anoints us, and calls us home, and that, instead of fighting each other to the point of alienation over our differences, we should sit down and eat and talk and share about what unites us.
Maybe this hymn moved me so much today because I've been thinking about my friend Drew, one of my students, who took his own life almost 3 years ago now. I actually have thought about him every day since then, but my thoughts have intensified over the past few weeks. One of my students and I were talking about that whole experience the other day, and I told him that I wouldn't have made it through those long months after the funeral without the help and support of my faith community--that when I couldn't say affirmations of faith, my community said them for me. When I didn't even have the energy to say a prayer, my faith community said them for me. This hymn helped me to realize that, when I walked through the shades of death, God was present for me in the form of so many folks who asked me how I was doing, folks who said prayers for me, people who hugged me or simply sat with me as my tears fell. They were God's "supporting breath" for me. The faith community was and is a "blessing" for me, and Drew's brother, Daniel (who is now an awesome PSFer at Auburn) is certainly a blessing through is faithfulness. Now that I think about it, God did bring my wandering spirit back and provided me with living water. And God is still at work, providing that living water in my times of doubt and questions and in my times of wander.
There is just something that moved me about this hymn today. Who knows--maybe it will happen again next week. Maybe it won't. But I'll be listening--and singing!
Thursday, July 29, 2010
"Font and Table"--sermon 7/25/10
Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying,the heaven was opened, and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; and with you I am well pleased.” Luke 3:21-22
When I really sit down to think about it, I’ve had some pretty amazing worship experiences during the last few weeks. Between the worship times at General Assembly and the Montreat Youth Conference, I have worshiped with almost 10,000 other Presbyterians, made baptismal promises for a child who lives in Minnesota, and feasted at the Lord’s table twice. I’ve seen banners and streamers and folks in tribal dress; I’ve heard music that sounded like storms, music that caused people to dance and clap; I’ve heard children and youth lead liturgy (there’s really nothing more humbling that an 8-year-old little girl leading the confession liturgy)—all of these in honor of our Lord. I will never forget these images, but one image in particular stuck out for me—it stuck out because it opened our worship both at GA and Montreat. The themes of these conferences revolved around water, so participants were asked to bring a little water from their home contexts. As the beautiful baptismal fonts sat before us, we brought water from the Mississippi River, from Lake Martin, from the west coast, oil-filled water from the Gulf. Water was brought from the Cahaba River to represent our presbytery’s hope in Living River; water was brought from camp and conference centers from all over the country, and I’m pretty sure that some plain old tap water was poured in those fonts. During each opening service, we poured our water into the font and watched as it became mixed with water from all over the country. This water represented the fact that, even though we all came from different places, we are tied together by the streams of water that run through our lives each day, by the streams of water that tie us together.
Water. The stats are amazing—our bodies are about 70% made of water, and while we can go without eating for about a month, our bodies can only last for a week without water. Water covers about 75% of the earth’s surface. These stats are amazing, but there are also some that are staggering. Listen to these amazing things that I found at water.org: ¾ of the world’s surface is covered with water, but less than 1% of that is sustainable, clean drinking water. While the United States uses 346,000 million gallons of water each day, 2.5 billion of our brothers and sisters around the world go without access to clean water. While we have access to great health care here, almost 20 children around the world die each second because of water-borne disease. An American taking a five-minute shower (and I took a 1- minute one this morning) uses more water than a typical person in a developing country slum uses in a whole day. And while I, as an American woman, can simply just turn my faucet on for that 10 minute shower, in just one day more than 200 million hours of other womens’ time is consumed for the most basic of human needs — collecting water for domestic use. And the most staggering thought about water? There is a great deal of thought that our next world war might be fought over the scarcity of water.
When I really sit down to think about it, I’ve had some pretty amazing worship experiences during the last few weeks. Between the worship times at General Assembly and the Montreat Youth Conference, I have worshiped with almost 10,000 other Presbyterians, made baptismal promises for a child who lives in Minnesota, and feasted at the Lord’s table twice. I’ve seen banners and streamers and folks in tribal dress; I’ve heard music that sounded like storms, music that caused people to dance and clap; I’ve heard children and youth lead liturgy (there’s really nothing more humbling that an 8-year-old little girl leading the confession liturgy)—all of these in honor of our Lord. I will never forget these images, but one image in particular stuck out for me—it stuck out because it opened our worship both at GA and Montreat. The themes of these conferences revolved around water, so participants were asked to bring a little water from their home contexts. As the beautiful baptismal fonts sat before us, we brought water from the Mississippi River, from Lake Martin, from the west coast, oil-filled water from the Gulf. Water was brought from the Cahaba River to represent our presbytery’s hope in Living River; water was brought from camp and conference centers from all over the country, and I’m pretty sure that some plain old tap water was poured in those fonts. During each opening service, we poured our water into the font and watched as it became mixed with water from all over the country. This water represented the fact that, even though we all came from different places, we are tied together by the streams of water that run through our lives each day, by the streams of water that tie us together.
Water. The stats are amazing—our bodies are about 70% made of water, and while we can go without eating for about a month, our bodies can only last for a week without water. Water covers about 75% of the earth’s surface. These stats are amazing, but there are also some that are staggering. Listen to these amazing things that I found at water.org: ¾ of the world’s surface is covered with water, but less than 1% of that is sustainable, clean drinking water. While the United States uses 346,000 million gallons of water each day, 2.5 billion of our brothers and sisters around the world go without access to clean water. While we have access to great health care here, almost 20 children around the world die each second because of water-borne disease. An American taking a five-minute shower (and I took a 1- minute one this morning) uses more water than a typical person in a developing country slum uses in a whole day. And while I, as an American woman, can simply just turn my faucet on for that 10 minute shower, in just one day more than 200 million hours of other womens’ time is consumed for the most basic of human needs — collecting water for domestic use. And the most staggering thought about water? There is a great deal of thought that our next world war might be fought over the scarcity of water.
We all need water, we can’t live without it. As water streams through our bodies each day, it streams through our lives and keeps us alive. As water comes through so many sources and gets mixed in so many different streams, lakes, and oceans, water ties us together with our brothers and sisters all the way around the world. And, as folks who call ourselves Christians, water streams through our story. Streams of water flow through our Bible—from the very beginning of creation, when the wind from God sweeps over the face of the waters, to the very last chapter of Revelation, where the angel shows John the luscious fruit and beautiful trees at the throne of the lamb—vegetation that has been fed by the streams of the river.
In our story, there are the waters of growth and creation:
--The swarms of living creatures that are brought out of the water in the very beginning;
--The river of God that creates green earth and luscious pastures and grain to eat in the valley, as told in Psalm 65;
--God’s blessing on the folks of Israel as water is poured on the thirsty land and descendants are brought forth, as told by Isaiah.
There are the waters of desperation and chaos:
--The waters that destroy the earth and leave behind a path of destruction for Noah and his loved ones;
--The storm waters that scare the disciples to death as they call out to Jesus for safety;
--And the waters that clean Pilate’s dirty and guilty hands when he hands Jesus over to be crucified.
There are the waters of safety:
--The waters in the bulrushes that take Moses away from impending death into new life;
--The water sprung by the angel in the wilderness so that Hagar and Ishmael aren’t left to die;
--The waters that come from the rock struck by Moses so that the Israelites don’t die of thirst.
And, then, there are the waters of new life and salvation:
--The waters from the pool of Siloam which clean the mud off of the blind man’s eyes, setting him free to see once more;
--The waters of life given to the woman at the well as Jesus says, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal --life.”
--The waters from the pool of Siloam which clean the mud off of the blind man’s eyes, setting him free to see once more;
--The waters of life given to the woman at the well as Jesus says, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal --life.”
--The waters of forgiveness and baptism that cleanse and transform Saul to his new life as Paul.
These streams of water are mighty, they are constant, and they are life-changing. As these streams of water run through our Christian story, through our lives, they cleanse and mark us as people of God. God has birthed us through the waters of creation; God has sent rivers and streams to give us drink when we are on the brink of death; God has blessed us with water and given us living water when we didn’t think we had any chances left; God has given us water to provide the food of lush vegetation; and most importantly, God has claimed us in the waters.
As Jesus is baptized by John in the Jordan River, the heavens opens up—and God echoes the creation words of “it is good” with the words, “You are my Son, the beloved, and with you, I am well pleased.” In the Jordan, and at the font, God claims us as God’s own. For you see, no matter how sinful we might be, God washes us clean with the waters in this font of grace. No matter how chaotic our lives may become or how empty we may feel, God embraces us with the waters in this font of love. And no matter how lonely we may feel, God welcomes us with the waters in this font of acceptance.
In these waters, God tells us that we are indeed good, that we are indeed loved so greatly. And because we are claimed, because we are forgiven, because we are accepted and cleansed and embraced, then we have no other choice but to go out and do the same. We have no other choice but to be living water for our sisters and brothers. We have no other choice but to go out and provide water purification systems—and I’m so glad that we are doing that in Mexico through Living Waters for the World. Because we have been given living water, we have no other choice but to go out and use less water so there’s more to go around, no other choice but to go out and be Christ’s hands and feet and provide sustainable, clean drink to those who are thirsty, no other choice to discover paths of peace and giving instead of fighting for our most basic needs. As we sit near this font today, and as we are filled at Christ’s table, let us then go from this place to act as Christ’s fulfilled people in the world. For as the very last verses of our Bible tell us, “The Spirit and the Bride say, ‘Come.’ And let everyone who hears say, ‘Come.’ And let everyone who is thirsty come. Let anyone who wishes take the water of life as a gift.” Let anyone wishes take the water of life as a gift. Thanks be to God, who gives the gift. Amen.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Friday and Saturday
Hi All! Sorry it has taken me so long to get a post up about the last couple of days of GA--needless to say, they were a complete whirlwind, and I flew out Saturday to come to Montreat, North Carolina, my second home! Friday started off with a bang as a commissioner moved to rescind our actions from the night before in regards to the definition of Christian marriage. The vote was very close on Friday night--a difference of 24 votes. Many people thought and wrote that we were just too tired to go on Friday night, so we quickly voted to let a response answer for all of the overtures. I really felt, though, that Friday's actions were answered when teh assembly voted by a much larger margin not to reconsider. Although some folks might have been tired on Friday night, I really feel like many folks felt that we as a church just weren't ready to define marriage as an institution between "two people" instead of "a man and a woman." I did feel for the ministers who live in states where gay marriage is legal--many of them had had gay couples in those states come to them asking for these ministers to officiate their weddings. These ministers were looking for some definitive guidance and some help beyond our constitution.
We also spent quite a bit of time Friday discussing the Middle East study report. As I thoroughly read the report before GA, I quickly realized that I don't know half as much about Middle Eastern issues as I should. Some former GA moderators had sent a letter before GA expressing their support for the report, while others had sent a letter denouncing it. I respect lots of those folks, so it really helped me to hear that they came together at GA to support the report as it had been tweaked. That really helped to guide me in my decision making.
Our Friday night plenary session was, far and away, the most exciting and fabulous time for me. As an assembly, we voted to spend almost $150,000 over the next 3 years to reestablish an Office of Collegiate Ministries--funding it for staff and programming. We also voted to spend almost as much for our Young Adult Volunteer Program, a program in which post-college young adults spent a year in a national urban or rural setting, or outside of the United States. One of my students who graduated last year is leaving in August to spend a YAV year in the inner city of Nashville. Out of every decision we made with financial implications, these two had the most $ attached to them--and we are going to spend it for our college students and young adults. Fabulous!!!!! I was a proud mama for my college students and a proud commissioner on Friday night!
We ended the assembly on Saturday with a few more things, then we spent a final time in worship together. I then headed to the airport for a great flight to Asheville and Montreat! Since I'm still pretty exhausted from the whole GA experience, I'm heading to bed at good ol' Assembly Inn. I'll post again tomorrow with some GA wrap-up thoughts! Peace, Rachel
We also spent quite a bit of time Friday discussing the Middle East study report. As I thoroughly read the report before GA, I quickly realized that I don't know half as much about Middle Eastern issues as I should. Some former GA moderators had sent a letter before GA expressing their support for the report, while others had sent a letter denouncing it. I respect lots of those folks, so it really helped me to hear that they came together at GA to support the report as it had been tweaked. That really helped to guide me in my decision making.
Our Friday night plenary session was, far and away, the most exciting and fabulous time for me. As an assembly, we voted to spend almost $150,000 over the next 3 years to reestablish an Office of Collegiate Ministries--funding it for staff and programming. We also voted to spend almost as much for our Young Adult Volunteer Program, a program in which post-college young adults spent a year in a national urban or rural setting, or outside of the United States. One of my students who graduated last year is leaving in August to spend a YAV year in the inner city of Nashville. Out of every decision we made with financial implications, these two had the most $ attached to them--and we are going to spend it for our college students and young adults. Fabulous!!!!! I was a proud mama for my college students and a proud commissioner on Friday night!
We ended the assembly on Saturday with a few more things, then we spent a final time in worship together. I then headed to the airport for a great flight to Asheville and Montreat! Since I'm still pretty exhausted from the whole GA experience, I'm heading to bed at good ol' Assembly Inn. I'll post again tomorrow with some GA wrap-up thoughts! Peace, Rachel
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Thursday
How do I even begin to explain today? Do I begin by saying that we are a church divided by many issues? Do I begin by saying that I am sinfully proud of some young teenage and 20ish Young Adult Advisory Delegates and ashamed at the behaviors and attitudes of their "elders" (who are Ministers of the Word and Sacrament)? Do I begin by saying that I'm tired of making decisions based on threats to the life of the church? Do I begin by saying that I alternated between feeling of guilt and happiness today? Do I begin by saying that it is much harder to sit on that floor and pray and sing and deliberate and make decisions than to judge from the internet feed in our homes and offices (as I have done before)?
It doesn't really matter where I do begin, because these are all questions that I've asked and feelings that I've had today. Judging by our biggest issues of the day, we are a church who often exists in disagreement with one another. And as frustrating as that may be, I kind of think it's a good thing. I love serving in a town where there is only one PC(USA) church--First Church, Auburn is a church made up of conservatives, liberals and moderates; a church made up of Auburn, Georgia, LSU, and (gasp) fans of the other team across the state of Alabama; a church made up of folks who think we have to wear our best on Sundays and folks who think that God really doesn't care what we wear; a church with straight people and gay people and probably everything in between. And I love it! I love the diversity, the opinions, the viewpoints. But we all gather together with one common purpose--to worship the God who loves us so much. I am proud to be a part of a church who debates and listens to calls for reformation.
I truly believe what I just wrote, but I have to be honest and say to you that I've changed my mind on one thing. Until the past year or so, I've often said that we have to do everything we can to keep folks in our church. But I have to say that I'm tired of being threatened--tired of hearing that, if I vote a certain way, people may leave. It happened on the floor tonight. A commissioner told the whole assembly that he and his family would leave the denomination if we opened the door for the ordination of gays and lesbians. In past months, I might have said to him, "Please don't go. What can I do to help you stay?" But I'm pretty tired of that--mostly because I've come to believe that that threat is a form of bullying. And I don't think there's any place for that in the church. If you're that unhappy, leave. Leave and go find a place in which you feel you can express your faith in a better and more full way.
Today was a day when I also alternated between joy and shame because of some of the acts of my fellow commissioners. I have never been prouder of a group of younger people than I am of this assembly's Young Adult Advisory Delegates. They are a group of smart, savvy, funny, capable, and very faithful men and women. Simply put, then know their stuff. They give me such great hope for this church! And to make it even better, they even talked our moderator into letting them lead an energizer. Fabulous!
But as happy as they made me, some of my fellow commissioners made me so sad. A minister commissioner at the table behind me called the co-moderator of the Marriage and Civil Unions Task Force a "blowhard." Really? I also watched the author of a minority report go to every mike and whisper in the ears of the report's supporters. I would like to think that he way saying "God loves you," but really think that he was telling them what to say. It REALLY bothered me. Presbyterians are some of the most educated folks in the world--I think they can figure it our for themselves! I'm really sad that they did this in front of the YAADs. Terrible modeling.
Finally, maybe I have made a mistake in following the Twitter feed for #ga219. It was hard to read tweets saying, "What are these commissioners doing?" It is really difficult to be sitting on that floor, to listen as folks gasp when results are read, to know that someone will be hurt if you vote "yes," and someone will be hurt when you vote "no." I ask all of you to keep that in mind. Sometimes the votes don't seem consistent, and sometimes they seem right on target. I have watched the internet feed from home before and said, "Why in the crap did they do that?" Now, however, I have seen things from a much different perspective. I can't speak for everyone on the assembly floor, but I can speak for myself. Even when my votes might seem inconsistent, I am thinking about every single one of them, praying for the Spirit's guidance, thinking about whom or what they might affect. Things are not always as clear as they may seem . . .
Peace, Rachel
It doesn't really matter where I do begin, because these are all questions that I've asked and feelings that I've had today. Judging by our biggest issues of the day, we are a church who often exists in disagreement with one another. And as frustrating as that may be, I kind of think it's a good thing. I love serving in a town where there is only one PC(USA) church--First Church, Auburn is a church made up of conservatives, liberals and moderates; a church made up of Auburn, Georgia, LSU, and (gasp) fans of the other team across the state of Alabama; a church made up of folks who think we have to wear our best on Sundays and folks who think that God really doesn't care what we wear; a church with straight people and gay people and probably everything in between. And I love it! I love the diversity, the opinions, the viewpoints. But we all gather together with one common purpose--to worship the God who loves us so much. I am proud to be a part of a church who debates and listens to calls for reformation.
I truly believe what I just wrote, but I have to be honest and say to you that I've changed my mind on one thing. Until the past year or so, I've often said that we have to do everything we can to keep folks in our church. But I have to say that I'm tired of being threatened--tired of hearing that, if I vote a certain way, people may leave. It happened on the floor tonight. A commissioner told the whole assembly that he and his family would leave the denomination if we opened the door for the ordination of gays and lesbians. In past months, I might have said to him, "Please don't go. What can I do to help you stay?" But I'm pretty tired of that--mostly because I've come to believe that that threat is a form of bullying. And I don't think there's any place for that in the church. If you're that unhappy, leave. Leave and go find a place in which you feel you can express your faith in a better and more full way.
Today was a day when I also alternated between joy and shame because of some of the acts of my fellow commissioners. I have never been prouder of a group of younger people than I am of this assembly's Young Adult Advisory Delegates. They are a group of smart, savvy, funny, capable, and very faithful men and women. Simply put, then know their stuff. They give me such great hope for this church! And to make it even better, they even talked our moderator into letting them lead an energizer. Fabulous!
But as happy as they made me, some of my fellow commissioners made me so sad. A minister commissioner at the table behind me called the co-moderator of the Marriage and Civil Unions Task Force a "blowhard." Really? I also watched the author of a minority report go to every mike and whisper in the ears of the report's supporters. I would like to think that he way saying "God loves you," but really think that he was telling them what to say. It REALLY bothered me. Presbyterians are some of the most educated folks in the world--I think they can figure it our for themselves! I'm really sad that they did this in front of the YAADs. Terrible modeling.
Finally, maybe I have made a mistake in following the Twitter feed for #ga219. It was hard to read tweets saying, "What are these commissioners doing?" It is really difficult to be sitting on that floor, to listen as folks gasp when results are read, to know that someone will be hurt if you vote "yes," and someone will be hurt when you vote "no." I ask all of you to keep that in mind. Sometimes the votes don't seem consistent, and sometimes they seem right on target. I have watched the internet feed from home before and said, "Why in the crap did they do that?" Now, however, I have seen things from a much different perspective. I can't speak for everyone on the assembly floor, but I can speak for myself. Even when my votes might seem inconsistent, I am thinking about every single one of them, praying for the Spirit's guidance, thinking about whom or what they might affect. Things are not always as clear as they may seem . . .
Peace, Rachel
Wednesday
Wednesday. A much easier day for me than Tuesday! I had breakfast with folks from our presbytery--again with the 7am thing--I wasn't quite awake when I got there even though I had walked a few blocks to get there :). After breakfast, I went for a very long walk around the city. It was great in many ways--I got to see the Target Center and Target Field, got to listen to some music and clear my head, and got in some much-needed exercise. I walked for an hour, and it was great to get a breath of fresh air!
We got back to our plenary time yesterday, and it was a relatively calm day. We approved three seminary presidents, approved the leader of the General Assembly Mission Council, approved our new Form of Government, and agreed to send the Confession of Belhar to the presbyteries for their approval. It is a beautiful confession that speaks to the need for justice, unity, and reconciliation in response to racism in South Africa. I love it, and I think it adds another deep layer to our Book of Confessions. If 2/3 of the presbyteries approve it over the next two years, then the next General Assembly will vote on its acceptance into the Book of Confessions. Here is the text:
http://www.pc-biz.org/Resources/e38bcf8d-244e-4ab8-af22-aab0a8123df9/Confession%20of%20Belhar.pdf
It was a great and celebratory day, but tomorrow promises to be much different as we talk about middle governing bodies, ordination, and the report on marriage and civil unions. We'll see! Peace, Rachel
We got back to our plenary time yesterday, and it was a relatively calm day. We approved three seminary presidents, approved the leader of the General Assembly Mission Council, approved our new Form of Government, and agreed to send the Confession of Belhar to the presbyteries for their approval. It is a beautiful confession that speaks to the need for justice, unity, and reconciliation in response to racism in South Africa. I love it, and I think it adds another deep layer to our Book of Confessions. If 2/3 of the presbyteries approve it over the next two years, then the next General Assembly will vote on its acceptance into the Book of Confessions. Here is the text:
http://www.pc-biz.org/Resources/e38bcf8d-244e-4ab8-af22-aab0a8123df9/Confession%20of%20Belhar.pdf
It was a great and celebratory day, but tomorrow promises to be much different as we talk about middle governing bodies, ordination, and the report on marriage and civil unions. We'll see! Peace, Rachel
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Tuesday
Oh goodness--where do I even begin? As our committee reconvened today, I walked in thinking that this was going to be a hard day. And I was right. How do you come to decisions, either individually or corporately, when you know that--whatever you decide to do--someone is going to be hurt? I knew that, if we decided to change our ordination standards, we would cause folks whose churches are already on the verge of leaving the denomination to leave (and many already have). As a result, we would run the risk of losing folks who have tremendous gifts of God to celebrate. And I knew that, if we decided to strengthen our ordination standards, we would lose (and already have lost) many folks who also have tremendous gifts to share, and are gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgendered. To be frank and honest, it absolutely sucks to know that people are going to be hurt. If you know me, you know that I take no joy in seeing people who are in pain, and certainly no joy in knowing that I have caused some of that pain.
So we debated. An elder on our committee suggested a substitute motion--a letter to all of our churches in which we recognized the deep pain and division that our fights over ordination standards have caused. The letter urged our churches to repent of our sin of exclusion and to find ways to be resources for the LBGT folks in our midst. But in doing so, the letter also urged us to uphold the ordination standards which are currently in our Book of Order. I thanked him them, and I thank him now, for trying to find a creative and pastoral solution--but I also thought that, if we asked for repentance for our exclusion of these folks, that we couldn't continue to exclude them from ordination. The substitute motion failed, so we began our debate of resolution 06-09.
After much debate, this is was the committee's recommendation, by a vote of 36-16-1:
Final Text:Shall G-6.0106b be amended by striking the current text and inserting new text in its place:Standards for ordained service reflect the church’s desire to submit joyfully to the Lordship of Jesus Christ in all aspects of life (G-1.0000). The governing body responsible for ordination and/or installation (G.14.0240; G-14.0450) shall examine each candidate’s calling, gifts, preparation, and suitability for the responsibilities of office. The examination shall include, but not be limited to, a determination of the candidate’s ability and commitment to fulfill all requirements as expressed in the constitutional questions for ordination and installation (W-4.4003). Governing bodies shall be guided by Scripture and the confessions in applying standards to individual candidates.”
Since the rest of our resolutions pertained to ordination standards, we ended our committee meeting by saying that our response to this resolution would be our response to all of the resolutions. We then were called to Christ's table to share the Sacrament of Communion together. It was a powerful way to end our time together, and I'm so thankful that, after much hard and contentious debate, we were called to come together in community at the table. It was great to know that our time together was formed around worship. We began each meeting time with a devotional and the reading of Scripture. Every time our debate became contentious throughout the last two days, we would stop, pray, and sing together, "Spirit of the Living God, fall afresh on me. Melt me, mold me, fill me, use me. Spirit of the Living God, fall afresh on me." And we ended by sharing together in the feast.
Everything that each committee passed will now be debated before the whole General Assembly, and that begins tomorrow.
A few personal observations:
1. Presbyterians eat well (as if you didn't already know that). I began my day with the Maryville College breakfast. Maryville is my alma mater and one of our PC(USA) related schools. It was great to meet Maryville's new president, Dr. Tom Bogart. I also went to the Collegiate Ministries lunch, where I joined other campus ministers and chaplains as we heard from Steve Hayner, the new president of Columbia Theological Seminary--and a former campus minister. I'll start my morning tomorrow as the Interim Executive Pres in Sheppards and Lapsley takes our commissioners to breakfast. And . . .
2. speaking of breakfasts, most of these take place at the ungodly hour of 7am. Simply put, campus ministers do not function that early. I think I was a zombie this morning :)!
3. Did you know that I'm stubborn? If you want to help me understand the way you are feeling and empathize with you, then telling me that you are right--and inferring that I'm wrong if I happen to disagree, is not the way to do it. In fact, it is the way to make me feel very unchristian as I think about slapping you. I kid, a little bit. Right before I flew to GA, I received an e-mail from someone in Birmingham telling me that he interpreted the Bible in a very certain way--and that this was the only way it could be interpreted. Another person in my committee said the same thing today--that his way of reading it was the RIGHT way. Since I disagreed with their interpretation, they then say that I am wrong. Not a good way to communicate! I had the honor of sitting by an elder commissioner throughout our committee meetings. Although we disagreed on many issues, he was gentle, kind, and humble to me--and I hope I was in return to him. That is the way to do it, folks!
After this very long day, I'm heading to bed. Peace to all of you! Rachel
So we debated. An elder on our committee suggested a substitute motion--a letter to all of our churches in which we recognized the deep pain and division that our fights over ordination standards have caused. The letter urged our churches to repent of our sin of exclusion and to find ways to be resources for the LBGT folks in our midst. But in doing so, the letter also urged us to uphold the ordination standards which are currently in our Book of Order. I thanked him them, and I thank him now, for trying to find a creative and pastoral solution--but I also thought that, if we asked for repentance for our exclusion of these folks, that we couldn't continue to exclude them from ordination. The substitute motion failed, so we began our debate of resolution 06-09.
After much debate, this is was the committee's recommendation, by a vote of 36-16-1:
Final Text:Shall G-6.0106b be amended by striking the current text and inserting new text in its place:Standards for ordained service reflect the church’s desire to submit joyfully to the Lordship of Jesus Christ in all aspects of life (G-1.0000). The governing body responsible for ordination and/or installation (G.14.0240; G-14.0450) shall examine each candidate’s calling, gifts, preparation, and suitability for the responsibilities of office. The examination shall include, but not be limited to, a determination of the candidate’s ability and commitment to fulfill all requirements as expressed in the constitutional questions for ordination and installation (W-4.4003). Governing bodies shall be guided by Scripture and the confessions in applying standards to individual candidates.”
Since the rest of our resolutions pertained to ordination standards, we ended our committee meeting by saying that our response to this resolution would be our response to all of the resolutions. We then were called to Christ's table to share the Sacrament of Communion together. It was a powerful way to end our time together, and I'm so thankful that, after much hard and contentious debate, we were called to come together in community at the table. It was great to know that our time together was formed around worship. We began each meeting time with a devotional and the reading of Scripture. Every time our debate became contentious throughout the last two days, we would stop, pray, and sing together, "Spirit of the Living God, fall afresh on me. Melt me, mold me, fill me, use me. Spirit of the Living God, fall afresh on me." And we ended by sharing together in the feast.
Everything that each committee passed will now be debated before the whole General Assembly, and that begins tomorrow.
A few personal observations:
1. Presbyterians eat well (as if you didn't already know that). I began my day with the Maryville College breakfast. Maryville is my alma mater and one of our PC(USA) related schools. It was great to meet Maryville's new president, Dr. Tom Bogart. I also went to the Collegiate Ministries lunch, where I joined other campus ministers and chaplains as we heard from Steve Hayner, the new president of Columbia Theological Seminary--and a former campus minister. I'll start my morning tomorrow as the Interim Executive Pres in Sheppards and Lapsley takes our commissioners to breakfast. And . . .
2. speaking of breakfasts, most of these take place at the ungodly hour of 7am. Simply put, campus ministers do not function that early. I think I was a zombie this morning :)!
3. Did you know that I'm stubborn? If you want to help me understand the way you are feeling and empathize with you, then telling me that you are right--and inferring that I'm wrong if I happen to disagree, is not the way to do it. In fact, it is the way to make me feel very unchristian as I think about slapping you. I kid, a little bit. Right before I flew to GA, I received an e-mail from someone in Birmingham telling me that he interpreted the Bible in a very certain way--and that this was the only way it could be interpreted. Another person in my committee said the same thing today--that his way of reading it was the RIGHT way. Since I disagreed with their interpretation, they then say that I am wrong. Not a good way to communicate! I had the honor of sitting by an elder commissioner throughout our committee meetings. Although we disagreed on many issues, he was gentle, kind, and humble to me--and I hope I was in return to him. That is the way to do it, folks!
After this very long day, I'm heading to bed. Peace to all of you! Rachel
Monday, July 5, 2010
Monday
Hey Everyone! Well, this is going to be short and sweet, well, because I'm absolutely weary. We had a great time last night at the 4th of July celebration. Minneapolis is a beautiful city, and it the fireworks celebration was phenomenal. And as much as I love Alabama sometimes, I must say that I like the Minnesota fireworks soundtrack of Springsteen and Ray Charles much better than the Alabama country music soundtrack. There wasn't a bad Lee Greenwood song anywhere to be found :)!
Today was an incredibly long, emotional, fascinating, and wearying day. I'm serving on the Church Orders and Ministry committee, and we are dealing with the ordination standards for the church. There are several resolutions which we have been called to consider--some to strengthen our ordination standards, some to make them more open, some calling for further interpretations. We had open hearings this morning, so folks from all over the map came to share their stories with us. We heard from folks who believe that God has created them as gays and lesbians, others who said that they have felt and acted upon homosexual tendencies, but have now received God's grace and are changed. We heard from folks who are celibate, and folks who are not. We heard from folks who felt like the PC(USA) had excluded them and have sought refuge in other denominations. We heard from folks who feel that homosexuality in and of itself is a sin, and folks who proudly say that God created them as gay and loves them dearly. All of these stories are stories of great faith, and it was profoundly humbling that each and every one of these sisters and brothers opened up to us and shared their deepest longings, hopes, and concerns with us.
We vote on these recommendations tomorrow, so please be in prayer for our committee, and for every single person who are decisions will affect--and there are a lot of them. I'm still processing all that I heard and saw and experienced today, so I'll write more later. Peace, everyone! Rachel
Today was an incredibly long, emotional, fascinating, and wearying day. I'm serving on the Church Orders and Ministry committee, and we are dealing with the ordination standards for the church. There are several resolutions which we have been called to consider--some to strengthen our ordination standards, some to make them more open, some calling for further interpretations. We had open hearings this morning, so folks from all over the map came to share their stories with us. We heard from folks who believe that God has created them as gays and lesbians, others who said that they have felt and acted upon homosexual tendencies, but have now received God's grace and are changed. We heard from folks who are celibate, and folks who are not. We heard from folks who felt like the PC(USA) had excluded them and have sought refuge in other denominations. We heard from folks who feel that homosexuality in and of itself is a sin, and folks who proudly say that God created them as gay and loves them dearly. All of these stories are stories of great faith, and it was profoundly humbling that each and every one of these sisters and brothers opened up to us and shared their deepest longings, hopes, and concerns with us.
We vote on these recommendations tomorrow, so please be in prayer for our committee, and for every single person who are decisions will affect--and there are a lot of them. I'm still processing all that I heard and saw and experienced today, so I'll write more later. Peace, everyone! Rachel
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Sunday
We began our day as we worshiped God together with members of congregation from all over Minneapolis. As I’m sure many of you experienced 4 years ago in Birmingham, it is an awesome thing to worship with over 8,000 other Presbyterians. Worship began with a processional of banners, songs, music, dancing, and lots of color. The outgoing moderator, the Rev. Bruce Reyes-Chow, brought it as he preached to us about our denomination. He challenged us by saying that, even as our denomination becomes older, we should be getting younger. He said that we need more babies and children and teenagers and young adults to lead us in a new direction—a new direction that is not scary, but exciting and fruitful. He challenged us to be open to the possibilities that come in new ways of worship and service in the world.
Our theme for this year’s General Assembly comes from Jesus’ words in the 7th chapter of John’s Gospel: “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who believes in me drink. As the scripture has said, ‘Out of the believer’s heart shall flow rivers of living water.’” And to celebrate that Jesus gives us the living water, we celebrated the Sacrament of Baptism! A young baby, whose parents are members of the Kwanzaa Community Church here in Minneapolis, was baptized in front of 8,000 folks. As if on cue, she smiled just as she was being filmed on camera. Alexis Renee is a beautiful little girl, and her smile lit up the room. It was a beautiful and very moving moment. Worship ended as we were fed at the table through the Sacrament of Communion. As we sang the words to “Love Divine, All Loves Excelling,” I cried a little as I thought of my grandmother, at whose funeral we sang the same gorgeous hymn. The last verse of the hymn is written this way: “Finish then, they new creation, pure and spotless let us be. Let us see thy great salvation, perfectly restored in thee.” As we sang those words, I thought of my grandmother and how much she would have loved that service. It was a fabulous morning!
We spent the afternoon in our committee meetings—my committee is the Church Orders and Ministry Committee, the committee that will deal with ordination issues. Needless to say, the next few days of committee meetings will be very interesting! Tonight we will celebrate Independence Day at a dinner on Nicollet Island in the Mississippi River. I’m looking forward to it!
In closing, I ask your prayers for the Halechko family of Helena, Alabama. They are friends of my brother and sister-in-law, and their 2-year-old daughter drowned Friday afternoon in Orange Beach as she got caught in a rip tide. To make this tragedy even more awful, a family friend died when she went in to save the little girl and got caught as well. Helena is a small town, and this tragedy is sure to hit everyone very hard. Please pray for this family without ceasing! Peace, Rachel
Our theme for this year’s General Assembly comes from Jesus’ words in the 7th chapter of John’s Gospel: “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who believes in me drink. As the scripture has said, ‘Out of the believer’s heart shall flow rivers of living water.’” And to celebrate that Jesus gives us the living water, we celebrated the Sacrament of Baptism! A young baby, whose parents are members of the Kwanzaa Community Church here in Minneapolis, was baptized in front of 8,000 folks. As if on cue, she smiled just as she was being filmed on camera. Alexis Renee is a beautiful little girl, and her smile lit up the room. It was a beautiful and very moving moment. Worship ended as we were fed at the table through the Sacrament of Communion. As we sang the words to “Love Divine, All Loves Excelling,” I cried a little as I thought of my grandmother, at whose funeral we sang the same gorgeous hymn. The last verse of the hymn is written this way: “Finish then, they new creation, pure and spotless let us be. Let us see thy great salvation, perfectly restored in thee.” As we sang those words, I thought of my grandmother and how much she would have loved that service. It was a fabulous morning!
We spent the afternoon in our committee meetings—my committee is the Church Orders and Ministry Committee, the committee that will deal with ordination issues. Needless to say, the next few days of committee meetings will be very interesting! Tonight we will celebrate Independence Day at a dinner on Nicollet Island in the Mississippi River. I’m looking forward to it!
In closing, I ask your prayers for the Halechko family of Helena, Alabama. They are friends of my brother and sister-in-law, and their 2-year-old daughter drowned Friday afternoon in Orange Beach as she got caught in a rip tide. To make this tragedy even more awful, a family friend died when she went in to save the little girl and got caught as well. Helena is a small town, and this tragedy is sure to hit everyone very hard. Please pray for this family without ceasing! Peace, Rachel
Saturday
My assembly experience actually began on Friday night as I visited Macalaster College in St. Paul to join my fellow campus ministers at the campus ministry summit. It was great to see several old, dear friends—and to meet new ones who share my passion for campus ministry. As always, we had a great time together!
Today began as the assembly commissioners and advisory delegates participated in the Riverside Conversations, which were seminars to update us about General Assembly and help us learn more about some of the “hot-button” issues which we will be discussing and voting on over the next few days. We chose 2 90-minute seminars. I first went to the discussion led by the Middle East study group, a group commissioned by the 218th General Assembly to study issues of religion, politics, violence, and the way to peace throughout the Middle East. The group met together, traveled to New York, Washington, DC, and then took a 2 week trip to the Middle East to meet with ministers, rabbis, and government representatives. This group was commissioned to look at and study all sides of the Israeli-Palestinian crisis, as well as to learn about other countries in the region. All of this study and travel resulted in the Middle East Study Peacemaking report, a report that is, in many ways, controversial. In our second session, I attended a seminar led by the group that was commissioned to study the issue of marriage and civil unions. I was struck when committee members told us that, while they disagreed passionately on marriage issues, the one thing that they could agree on is that they belong to Jesus Christ and each other. Wouldn’t our world be much different if we all agreed to disagree on the smaller issues, but agreed to agree—and to celebrate—the fact that we all belong to our Lord, and that we all belong to each other!
We ended the evening with the election of the Moderator for the 219th General Assembly. There were six candidates—2or 3 more than usual! Needless to say, it was a long evening. It was great to see so much diversity—there were two female ministers, 1 female elder, an African-American minister, a Korean minister, and a white male minister. After nominating speeches, all six gave a speech to introduce themselves; this was followed by a 90-minute question period from the floor. The most interesting question came from a Theological Student Advisory Delegate—“What do we stand to lose if you are not elected Moderator?” After 4 ballots (and some voting problems), Elder Cynthia Bolbach was elected as Moderator of the 219th General Assembly. Elders rejoice—she was the only elder candidate! Each candidate had great and interesting things to say about the present and future of the church, and each would have done a fine job in leading our denomination for the next two years. A great moment happened just before the first vote—all of the candidate laid hands on each other as the moderator of the 218th General Assembly prayed for them. Imagine what would happen if our political candidates took time to lay hands on each other and pray for each other after a hard debate. Our harsh political climate might look much different if that happened! Moderator Bolbach was then given the cross that has been passed down from moderator to moderator, as well as a beautiful stole. What a great way to celebrate the Spirit! It was a late night, but a great one. Peace, Rachel
Today began as the assembly commissioners and advisory delegates participated in the Riverside Conversations, which were seminars to update us about General Assembly and help us learn more about some of the “hot-button” issues which we will be discussing and voting on over the next few days. We chose 2 90-minute seminars. I first went to the discussion led by the Middle East study group, a group commissioned by the 218th General Assembly to study issues of religion, politics, violence, and the way to peace throughout the Middle East. The group met together, traveled to New York, Washington, DC, and then took a 2 week trip to the Middle East to meet with ministers, rabbis, and government representatives. This group was commissioned to look at and study all sides of the Israeli-Palestinian crisis, as well as to learn about other countries in the region. All of this study and travel resulted in the Middle East Study Peacemaking report, a report that is, in many ways, controversial. In our second session, I attended a seminar led by the group that was commissioned to study the issue of marriage and civil unions. I was struck when committee members told us that, while they disagreed passionately on marriage issues, the one thing that they could agree on is that they belong to Jesus Christ and each other. Wouldn’t our world be much different if we all agreed to disagree on the smaller issues, but agreed to agree—and to celebrate—the fact that we all belong to our Lord, and that we all belong to each other!
We ended the evening with the election of the Moderator for the 219th General Assembly. There were six candidates—2or 3 more than usual! Needless to say, it was a long evening. It was great to see so much diversity—there were two female ministers, 1 female elder, an African-American minister, a Korean minister, and a white male minister. After nominating speeches, all six gave a speech to introduce themselves; this was followed by a 90-minute question period from the floor. The most interesting question came from a Theological Student Advisory Delegate—“What do we stand to lose if you are not elected Moderator?” After 4 ballots (and some voting problems), Elder Cynthia Bolbach was elected as Moderator of the 219th General Assembly. Elders rejoice—she was the only elder candidate! Each candidate had great and interesting things to say about the present and future of the church, and each would have done a fine job in leading our denomination for the next two years. A great moment happened just before the first vote—all of the candidate laid hands on each other as the moderator of the 218th General Assembly prayed for them. Imagine what would happen if our political candidates took time to lay hands on each other and pray for each other after a hard debate. Our harsh political climate might look much different if that happened! Moderator Bolbach was then given the cross that has been passed down from moderator to moderator, as well as a beautiful stole. What a great way to celebrate the Spirit! It was a late night, but a great one. Peace, Rachel
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