Don't Worry?: A Sermon Excerpt

Sometimes, sermon texts are a struggle.  Sometimes they are confusing and it is hard to understand what it is really trying to say.  Sometimes we don’t like what the text says.  Then there are the texts that are fairly straightforward to understand, but hard to apply in life, like the text I had to preach on this past Sunday: Matthew 6:25-34, Jesus’ words on not worrying.  It was a sermon (like most sermons) I had to preach to myself first.  I liked how it turned out, so I am sharing part of it here.

Jesus is not saying that these things of life are not important.  He doesn’t say we should go without food or clothes or a job or home.  And Jesus doesn’t say that we won’t have any trouble in the world.  But he does tell us how to respond to the troubles and the worries that come.  Jesus says we can quit worrying about our lives.  We can quit worrying.

Then he gives us two pictures of why we don’t need to worry.  First, Jesus says look at the birds of the air.  They don’t plant or gather crops.  They don’t put food away in storerooms.  But your Father who is in heaven feeds them.  Aren’t you much more important than the birds? 

Think about the birds that are coming back to Michigan right now.  They aren’t planting food, but they are busy creatures.  They are out finding food.  They gather materials and build a nest.  They will soon be laying eggs and caring for them.  After the eggs hatch, they have to bring food for their babies and help them learn to fly.  There are lots of things that birds do in life.  But God takes care of them.  God controls the sun and the rain.  He makes the plants grow that birds need to eat.  God watches over the birds.  God provides for them.  And God says that people, created in God’s image are worth much more than the birds.  If God takes care of the birds that well, he will take care of us even more. 

And then Jesus gives another picture.  He says look at the wild flowers.  They don’t have to work or make clothing.  But those flowers are more beautiful than the best dressed people in the world.  I was so happy this week when the daffodils finally bloomed.  Look at how bright they are.  After such a long, long winter they finally bring a bit of spring.  They don’t have to put on make-up or buy expensive clothes to be beautiful.  They just are. 

But they don’t last long.  It is supposed to get hotter this week, and I think that by a week from now, these flowers will be wilted and starting to get brown.  Even though they have a short life span, God made them beautiful.  If God cares so much about making the flowers beautiful, won’t he take care of you and me, too?

“Your faith is so small,” Jesus said.  Maybe that’s another way to say: “Your God is so big.”  God created the world.  He made the sun and earth and birds and flowers.  God created us.  And God takes care of the world.  He cares for the sparrows.  God watches over the flowers.  And even more so, God cares about us.  Later, in Matthew chapter 10, Jesus says, “Aren’t two sparrows sold for only a penny? But not one of them falls to the ground without your Father knowing it. ³⁰He even counts every hair on your head! ³¹So don’t be afraid. You are worth more than many sparrows” (Matthew 10:29-31, NIrV).

God cares for us.  God knows the number of hairs you have on your head.  God knows when the little sparrows fall to the ground.  And God loves you much more than the sparrows.  We don’t need to worry, because our big God knows us and loves us. 

And God has shown that he is faithful.  Over and over again in the Bible, God made promises to people.  And over and over again, God kept his promises.  God promised Noah that the whole earth would not be destroyed again by a flood.  God kept that promise.  God promised Abraham that his family would be as many as the stars in the sky.  God kept that promise.  God promised David that a member of his family would always be king.  And God kept that promise in Jesus.  God promised that he would defeat sin and Satan.  God kept that promise.

And so we know that God will keep his promises to us.  God makes promises to us in baptism.  God promises that we belong to God, that we are his children.  God promises that we have died to our sin and risen with Christ.  God promises that he will be with us always.  God promises that nothing in life or in death nor anything in all creation can separate us from the love of God.

Thanks be to God!

Sparrow photo by Paul Stein, used under a Creative Commons License, http://www.flickr.com/photos/kapkap/415668818/

Daffodil photo by Ian Britton, used under a Creative Commons License, http://www.flickr.com/photos/freefoto/3370278750/

Rainbow photo by B.J. Bumgarner, used under a Creative Commons License,  http://www.flickr.com/photos/homer4k/263070945/

Sunday Afternoon Prayer: Visitation

Today I share a poem I read this week by Scott Cairns from his book Love's Immensity: Mystic on the Endless Life.  It is a collection of poems based on writings of saints and mystics.  This poem, called "Visitation" is based on writings by Saint Dorotheos of Gaza (c. 490-c.560).  

My heart was lead, and my mind

"Regardless, the grace of God arrives/ rushing to the soul"

was murk.  Nothing proved a comfort,
and I remained for that wretched season
shut in on all sides, stifled, gasping for breath.

Regardless, the grace of God arrives
rushing to the soul when its endurance
is exhausted.  Of a dreary morning, I
stood gazing round the courtyard, pleading

God for assistance; suddenly I turned
toward the broad katholikon and saw
one dressed as though a bishop enter
the open doors, as though borne on wings.

Within the nave, he remained standing for some time, 
his arms raised in prayer.  I stood all that while
there behind him in great fear, trembling in prayer,
for I was very alarmed at the sight of him.

When his prayers were spoken, he turned
and walked to me, with each step vanquishing
incrementally my pain and dread.  And then
he stood before me and, stretching out his hand,

touched me on the chest and tapped my tender breastbone saying aloud:
       I waited, I waited for the Lord
      And he stooped down to me.
      He heard my cry.
      He drew me from the deadly pit,
            from the mire and clay.
      He set my feet upon a rock
            and made my footsteps firm.
      He put a new song into my mouth,
            new praise of our God.

He spoke these lines three times, tapping
me each time on the tender breastbone.  Then,
he turned and was gone, and instantly, light
flooded my mind, and joy split my heart
with an awful, aching sweetness. 

"Visitation" by Scott Cairns in Love's Immensity, pg. 67-68.
Personal photo, April 2013

Sunday Afternoon Prayer: Kyrie Eleison

Kyrie eleison*.

It has been a long week in this world, Lord.

Full of violence to body, earth, and spirit.

Lord, have mercy.

Christe eleison.

Bombings.

Shootings.

Explosions.

Flooding.
Earthquakes.

Rejection.

Abuse.

Starvation.

Some of it unexpected,

And some of it horribly routine.

Christ, have mercy.

Kyrie eleison.

Come, Lord Jesus.

Come through your Word, Spirit, and Sacraments.

Come and show us that you are Immanuel—God with us.

Immanuel at the musty funeral home.

Immanuel in the sterile hospital room.

Immanuel at the prayer service.

Immanuel in the flooded home.

Immanuel when the computer bears bad news.

Immanuel when the partner keeps manipulating.

Immanuel when there is no rice or bread.

Come, Lord Jesus.

Come and bring your new heavens and new earth.

Come and turn swords into plowshares.

Come and wipe every tear from our eyes. 

Come, Lord Jesus.

Lord, have mercy on us!

*Kyrie eleison means “Lord have mercy” in Greek and is an ancient liturgical prayer.

Personal image taken on Iona, Scotland, January 2013.

An Odd and Wondrous Moment

There is a book about pastoral ministry called “this odd and wondrous calling.”  That title phrase captures so much of what my pastoral experience has been, so far.  There have been odd moments.  There have been wondrous moments.  And there have been many moments that are both odd and wondrous: someone sharing how the Holy Spirit spoke to them through a sermon I didn’t think was that good, kneeling to pray on the floor of a Nepalese family’s apartment to pray after an exhausting and scary day, and giving the charge to a friend at her ordination. 

When my friend asked me to give the charge, I said yes immediately.  The charge is one of the last parts of the ordination service, when another pastor encourages the newly ordained pastor in keeping the weighty ordination vows they have just taken.  It is often one of the most personal parts of the service.  I was excited and honored to have this part in her celebration. 

And then I started to think about what I would say.  I started to get cold feet, wondering how I could possibly say something worthy of the occasion.  It seemed like a job better suited to someone with thirty years of ministry experience, not someone who is at the beginning of their ministry journey.

But I said I would do it, so I prayed for words and settled into writing it.  I wrote lines, deleted them, and wrote more.  As I wrote and edited, I found one of those odd and wondrous moments.  The charge is a formal encouragement in ministry, in remaining faithful to the vows you have taken.  But as I was writing I realized that we give each other informal charges all the time.  We encourage each other as we share experiences and ask “what would you do?” or “what do you think I should do?”  We encourage each other as we pray for the difficult and messy situations we face.  We encourage each other to stay faithful to our vows and grow in love for God and his people as we simply spend time together. 

As I wrote and then gave the charge, I discovered that it actually made sense for me to give this charge and not someone who has been doing this forever.  We’re going to live this out together--encouraging, challenging, learning, and discovering.  I’m looking forward to discovering more odd and wondrous moments in the midst of our calling together.     

Personal photo, February 2013

Sunday Prayer: I'll Wait

My prayer tonight is a song I have been listening to a lot lately, called “I’ll Wait.”  It is written and sung by Sara Groves on her Invisible Empires album.

She wrote this song during a stressful time of life. On her website, Groves says, "I knew from the beginning this is something I'm going to have to walk through, but I also knew from the very beginning I was going to be a stronger person when I came out the other side. So that song is saying, ‘Now more than ever I know, I know that I have to wait for You. I can't move on my own.'"  It is a prayer of trust during a difficult time, when she didn’t know how everything would work out.  And that is my prayer, too.   

I can't run with the horses

If I can't keep up with men

I can fight all these forces

On my own and never win

I can take it from here

And have nowhere to go

I could take it for years

And have nothing to show

I can work like the devil

Build a tower to the sky

I can work for my possessions

Till they empty me of life

I can build my own house

And be building in vain

I can plant a seed

But I can't bring the rain

I'll wait for you

Now more than ever

I see it's true

Now more than ever

I'll wait for you now

I can take my own vengeance

Make a war of all my pain

I can get my own insurance

Find a way to lay the blame

I can win the whole world

And lose my own soul

Holding on for dear life

Spinning out of control

I'll wait for you

Now more than ever

I see it's true

Now more than ever

I'll wait for you now

I don't want to do this by myself

I know I need your help

And so I'm waiting for you

I can take it from here

And have nowhere to go

I can take it for years

And have nothing to show

I'll wait for you

Now more than ever

I see it's true

Now more than ever

I'll wait for you

I don't want to do this by myself

I know I need your help

And so I'm waiting for you

P.S. When I read her bio, I discovered that kids from NewCity Kids, where my sister used to work, sing in “Eyes on the Prize” on the same album.  Very cool!

New Lines to Womanhood

I recently read a review of the award-winning HBO show Girls in the April 2013 issue of Christianity Today.  The show focuses on an early 20s woman named Hannah as she tries to figure out adulthood—jobs, renting, friends, boyfriends.  It is a coming-of-age show, written and directed by 26-year-old Lena Dunham.  “What’s new about the show is that these women, like many real-life ones, are working from a rough script.  The lines that signal ‘womanhood’ are absent, coming later or not at all, or look quite different from the lines our mothers followed” (pg. 70). 

Like the author of the review, Katelyn Beaty, I also fit into the category of real-life women working from a rough script.  When I was younger, I assumed that I would follow those traditional lines to womanhood: I would meet a nice Christian guy (probably in college), get married shortly after college, buy a house (unless we were missionaries living overseas), and have kids.  I would work before the kids were born and maybe part-time after.

None of that has happened in my life, so far.

I don’t regret my life—it has been full of unique experiences I would have never had if my 13-year-old-self’s life plan had come to fruition.  But at the same time, I have had to figure out new lines to womanhood.  Maybe I should say I am trying to figure out new lines to womanhood.  One day at a time, I am living the life God has called me to and trying to find the lines.

To be honest, it can be a lonely and confusing place.  I don’t have that many role models.  There are portrayals in the media, Girls and Liz Lemon in 30 Rock come to mind, but TV show characters tend to hop from boyfriend to boyfriend, sleeping with them all.  That isn’t part of my life, but the church is a part of my life.  The church gives me stability when everything around me seems to be changing.  The church gives me a community of people who love and care for me, but also don’t quite know what to do with me.    

That’s why I am writing this.  So far in my life I have kept my experiences and feelings about being single pretty private.  I’ve only let the closest circle of my friends in.  But that needs to change, so I am going to be writing more about this part of my life in the future.  I hope to write about the joys, the sorrows, the practices I find helpful, and the habits that are unhelpful.

By sharing my story, I want the 12-year-old girls and boys in my congregation to see what life looks like if you don’t marry early.  I want the 22-year-old woman who just graduated without her Mrs. Degree to have hope that God has beautiful plans for her life even if they feel unconventional.  I want the 45-year-old married pastor to have a glimpse of what it looks like to be in this space and how he or she can be hospitable to people who don’t fit the mold.  I want the 60 year-old who never married to have the permission to tell his or her story, too.  

I want the church to warmly welcome people into community, no matter who they are.  Beaty asks “Are our churches places where women like Dunham can know and be known?  Where their ambitions and dreams are encouraged, not squelched or made to fit into old scripts of womanhood that don’t speak to them?  Where a story is told and retold that speaks to their deepest desires and orients them toward wholeness and self-giving instead of self-gazing?” (pg. 71).  I hope and pray that sharing more of my story can help the church to be such a place.  I hope that together we can develop and affirm many paths to adulthood. 

                 

Top photo by Wally Gobetz, used under a Creative Commons License.  http://www.flickr.com/photos/wallyg/8416119593/.

Bottom photo is a personal photo taken August 2012.

Sunday Afternoon Prayer: A Prayer for the Year to Come

I'm continuing the birthday theme for one last post (previous here and here), with my prayer for the coming year of my life.

God my help in years past and hope for years to come,

Thank you for your faithfulness in the past year,

For grace in difficult situations,

For growth as a pastor

For relationships that have supported me.

And in this year to come, may I be a person of

Strength,

Joy,

Stability, and

Hospitality.

May I grow in my

relationship with you,

prayer life,

memorized scripture, and

identity in Christ.

May I live in community with friends

Near,

Far,

Old, and

New.

May I serve you

Faithfully,

With wisdom,

With self-less love for others, and

Wherever you call me.

May I be filled with joy

Exploring your creation,

Creating beautiful things,

Laughing with friends,

And trying new things.

May whatever I do,

Whether in word or in deed,

Be done in the name of Jesus.

In Jesus’ name.  Amen.

Personal photo taken in the Iona Abbey, Iona, Scotland, January 2013. 

Birthday Gift to Myself

This year for my birthday, I took myself on a little vacation.  I went to Ludington, a lovely little town on Lake Michigan with a great state park.  I stayed at the Abbey Lynn Inn, which was a beautiful historic home with wonderfully hospitable owners (and delicious breakfasts!).  If you are looking for a place to stay in Ludington, I would recommend it!  I did some hiking, hung out at my B&B, read, took pictures, watched the sun set over the lake, and just rested.  

I am thankful for the time and space to take some time away, breath fresh air, and come back more relaxed!

Thanks to the Women Who Have Formed Me

When I was on the Isle of Iona in Scotland during January, I visited the Nunnery.  The Nunnery is the ruin of an Augustinian nunnery built in the thirteenth century.  For several hundred years, women lived, worked, and worshipped here.  Their lives were similar to the men who lived in the abbey down the road.  They worshipped God together.  They prayed.  They grew and prepared food for themselves.  They took care of the sick and needy.  They offered hospitality to those in need.  They lived in community with each other.

Nunnery Church

But these women's names and stories are mostly forgotten.  The ruins have not ben restored, and it is said that this is one of the best preserved nunneries in the British Isles.  As I explore the island I used a book called Around a Thin Place, published by the Iona Community's publishing house, to help guide my reflection at significant points.  At the Nunnery it calls attention to women of faith, both this whose names history has remembered and forgotten.  

Me and the Nunnery

It also asked us to remember women whose lives have shaped us.  I started to list women whose faith and love have shaped me, and it is a long, long list.  It starts with my mom, grandmothers, sisters, aunts, and cousins.  Sunday school teachers and other adults from church growing up.  Family friends.  Women I went to college with.  My teammates in China.  Friends God gave me during my seminary years.  Mentors and colleagues in ministry.  

My mom and I at my ordination.  I love this picture!

I wouldn't be who I am without them.  God has used them to shape me.  To give me examples of loving Christ and serving the church.  To encourage the gifts they saw in me.  To challenge me and console me.  Today is my birthday, and as I reflect on my life I thank God for all of these women and the impact they have had on me.  And as I look to the future, I pray that I will have such an impact on those around me now and those who will look to me in the future.

"I am reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice and, I am persuaded, now lives in you also" (2 Timothy 1:5). 

P.S. Many men have shaped me too, and I am thankful for them too.