Seeing Light in the Darkness

Blindness scares me. When I was 19 an eye doctor told me that if my eyes continue to change at the rate they were changing, I’d be blind by the time I was 30. I remember buying a new sketch book and colored pencils so I could draw everything. I felt like I had to show everyone what I saw and not waste any time.

It’s nearly two decades  past that deadline and I’m still not blind. My eyesight isn’t great and I may be blind someday, but for now I have sight. I have sight thanks to the $1000.00 eyeglasses that take two months to get from the one lab that can make them with a new prescription almost every year. This threat of  blindness may explain my affinity for bright colors and my sense of urgency about what I ought to be doing next. I’m always afraid I’m going to miss seeing something important. And I often do, because I think I know what I’m looking at until God shows me something entirely different…

This week I had the privilege of leading a retreat for a small group of clergy colleagues. I was struck by a few things:  their passion for their work, their love of Jesus, and their exhaustion. We came together to relax and recharge. The time away was brief but amazing. We struggled with what it means to be on this Lenten journey, leading the people of God. There was a deep yearning to walk in the light of Christ in such a way that nothing hinders it.retreat_alter

I think about this group of colleagues, this week’s lectionary readings, and my own desire to keep seeing. It occurs to me that maybe the church is in this place of challenge, this place where darkness threatens and blindness happens just so that Christ may be glorified in a new way. If we keep searching, praying, seeking our eyes may be opened to the Light shining in new and unexpected ways.

My hope for this Lenten journey is that we all see the beauty of this amazing journey God has invited us on.

RCL – Year A – Fourth Sunday in Lent
1 Samuel 16:1-13
Psalm 23
Ephesians 5:8-14
John 9:1-41

A Dream of Change

As my Facebook friends know, I frequently have weird, vivid dreams. They are often entertaining and sometimes just symptomatic of my need for vacation. Dreams that would make a good sci-fi novel are nothing new for me. I remember them when I wake up and often make a brief FB post about them before they … Read More

Displaced People

Just this afternoon someone asked me, “Why church?” meaning why do I continue in ministry when there are other things I could be doing?

My answer to this is simple. The church saved my life during my teenage years. If it was not for the members of the church of my childhood and its clergy, I wouldn’t have made it to adulthood. I’m not kidding or exaggerating. I was missing a sense of belonging and value and the church gave it to me. I belonged there. I was valued there. It was many years before I had a sense of God’s love for me. But I knew the people of that church loved me and wanted me there.

My relationship with the church as an adult has been far more challenging.

2013-09-21 12.47.20

With these thoughts lingering in my head, I looked again at this week’s lectionary readings. Jeremiah was asked to purchase land so that the people of Israel would be assured that there would always be a place for them. When the siege ended and the captives returned, they would have a place in which to begin again.

The psalmist reminds us that God is our shelter, a refuge and will rescue us from all sorts of disasters. We will be saved.

In the difficult passage from Luke’s Gospel, there is a warning against ignoring our identity as people of God. If we do not pay attention to what our faith teaches, will we be convinced if someone rises from the dead?

God had Jeremiah seal a covenant in an earthenware jar so that the people of Israel would have a place to call home. We have Christ! We are the vessel of Christ’s covenant, the promise that there will always be a place for God’s people. Why do we act as if there is no promise? No place to return to? to call home? to grow? to begin again?

There is something powerful in this image of the jar, a promise we hold.

RCL – Year C – Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost – September 29
Jeremiah 32:1-3a, 6-15 with Psalm 91:1-6,14-16 or
Amos 6:1a, 4-7 with Psalm 146
1 Timothy 6:6-19
Luke 16:19-31

Challenge, Change, and Faith

churchThe church is dead. The church is dying. The church is irrelevant. I’ve heard statements like these increasingly more often in the last couple of years. Truth be told, I’ve made similar observations myself for more than a decade. But after reading this week’s lectionary, I no longer agree that the church is dead, dying, or irrelevant. Although, it could be if we don’t pay better attention.

First, Isaiah’s words to the people of Israel. God is not pleased. The offerings and prayers of the people have become meaningless. They are going through the motions of faith, but they do not seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend orphans, or plead for widows. They have lost their way, again. God does not want empty religious rituals. God wants their hearts and their lives. It wouldn’t be much of a stretch for Isaiah’s word’s to be meant for today’s church goers.

The Hebrews text is the beautiful reminder of the power of faith. Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Indeed, by faith our ancestors received approval. By faith we understand that the worlds were prepared by the word of God, so that what is seen was made from things that are not visible. The passage goes on to remind the church in Jerusalem that Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob had faith in the midst of challenge and change; they did not sit still and wait for things to happen. The emerging church was changing the face of religious practice in those days, and it was scary. The reminder to trust God to guide the journey and fulfill promises was a timely one. And, like the Isaiah text, it’s not hard to imagine that these words spoken to the church now.

No, we aren’t dead. No, we aren’t dying. No, we aren’t irrelevant. But we could be all these things if we don’t pay more attention. The caution to Jerusalem’s emerging church was not to do things that would make God ashamed to be their God. It’s a reasonable caution for today’s emerging church. Where have our rituals become empty? Where have our offerings become meaningless? Is God honored by our actions or ashamed of them? Do we truly seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend orphans or plead for widows?

We aren’t dead or dying, but we are changing; something new is emerging. Change is essential to the church’s survival and we don’t like it. This resistance to and dislike of change has been consistent since the early church. We don’t know what to do when the shape of our religious practice shifts. It makes us anxious and in our anxiety we tend to cling more firmly to things and rituals that don’t really mean all that much. Therefore, the reminders of the faithful who have gone before us. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Miriam, Rebecca, and Rachael. Peter, Paul, and Stephen. Mary, Martha, and Lydia. And the countless men and women who walked paths of faith when the present and the future were unclear.

So lest we become irrelevant, let us get moving with the great cloud of witnesses who have gone before us. Let’s ask ourselves what is essential for Christian faith right now, and pray for the courage to let all the rest fall away. It’s not too late. We aren’t dead yet. And we are not irrelevant. People need faith now as much as ever before, if not more so. The church has a unique message for those who are hungry. It’s time we look to see where our treasure lies (and move it if it is in the wrong place.)

Let your steadfast love, O God, be upon us, even as we hope in you.

For those of you who need musical motivation, check this out:  Do Something

photo from pdphoto.org

RCL – Year C – Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost – August 11, 2013
Isaiah 1:1, 10-20 with Psalm 50:1-8, 22-23 or
Genesis 15:1-6 with Psalm 33:12-22 and
Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16
Luke 12:32-40