Eeek. Behind. Already. Here goes my attempt to get somewhat caught up…
Luke 4
First off, I’ve finally made a decision today. Never again will I attempt to read and blog on entire chapters at a time. This is ridiculous. There are at least eight blog posts from just this one chapter! But that’s for another day…
Let me just key in on one part of Luke 4—the whole thing about casting out demons. Now, there’s a lot going on here, and it raises a lot of questions. Like what is the nature of evil and its presence in the world? In what ways to we understand evil to be personified? How does the Church understand mental illness? And finally, how to we understand the presence of evil AND the very real conditions of mental illness in relationship to one another?
I must admit I struggle with some of the most blatant attempts to personify evil. I believe evil is real and present in the world, but I’m cautious about to easily attributing evil and sin to some being outside of ourselves. I don’t think we ought to be scapegoating our own failings. That being said, there are certainly those for whom their actions seem to be beyond the realm of even what we might rightly understand as human sinfulness. These are the people whose actions seem not “merely” sinful or wrong, but downright EVIL. I think this is what the people of Jesus’ day struggled with as they interacted with people. How do you approach someone whose reaction to others and to life seems so out of sorts? I think for many years, these people are quickly diagnosed as being possessed by a demon.
To be honest, I’m not sure I want to totally tackle the whole demon thing. It all makes me a bit uncomfortable. The Bible talks about demons, but I struggle to place those mentions within the context of the knowledge of the day. There are other parts of scripture (like Joshua 10:13 which tells us the sun stood still) which many, including me, see as communicating a point rather than a scientific explanation of natural phenomena. We know today (though I’m sure some would still disagree) that the sun, not the earth, is the center of our universe. What Joshua was communicating was that the day seemed to last forever.
So I don’t know if the same principle applies to the whole demon thing. Was this is some way at least an attempt to explain what we call mental illness today, in a time when there were not psychological explanations? And will we some day find that even our understanding of mental illnesses today is woefully inadequate? I don’t know. But I do believe that at least to some extent, at least SOME of what was attributed to demons in Jesus’ day almost certainly would be called mental illness today.
Even after years of open discussion about mental illnesses, we still struggle today to see them as medical conditions, like heart disease or diabetes. Like those two illnesses in particular, many mental illnesses will never completely go away for people, they can be (for most) well treated. So much so that they never, or even rarely ever affect a person’s life (other than the treatment needed to maintain mental and emotional health). At the same time, like those diseases, some people cannot be well treated using traditional methods, and others may find that lifestyle changes may have as much if not more impact on health than medications. Each person is different, and their illness and effective treatments will nearly always be different and include a combination of approaches.
In the church, we have too often failed to adequately address mental illnesses in relation to the many factors which impact people and how mental illnesses manifest. And how we handle the wake of those illnesses.
I could write volumes, and I realize I’m leaving this topic far from addressed, but for now, I’ll pause (and try to come back to that in a future blog).
Luke 5
Once again, there’s a lot going on. But I’ll focus in on the calling of the disciples.
Much is rightly made of the inappropriateness of Jesus’ disciples being who they, well, were. Not the scholarly men other teachers of the day would have had (let alone the whole process of the disciples following was fairly backwards).
Today I imagine this would be as if Jesus, rather than calling clergy to be his closest followers and future leaders, instead called men (and today, I believe, he would also call women) from auto body shops, beauty parlors, maybe a bank, a farm, a construction site, etc. This would be, I imagine, very hard for us pastors to swallow, but it’s Jesus’ MO (modus operandi).
The truth is, even today without Jesus calling disciples in such a direct way, Jesus still calls for people to come and follow, and still today, some of the most powerful ministry is done by those who are not professional clergy. Indeed, one of the best indicators of health and growth in a congregation is the active involvement AND LEADERSHIP of the laity. A sure way to start a church on decline is to expect the pastors (or even the paid staff as well) to handle the bulk of the congregation’s work. I know it’s easier that way, it seems. And we pastors LOVE to feel needed. But the degree to which a congregation is lay-led, I am convinced, is key.
Now lay LEADERSHIP and lay CONTROL are very different things. In fact, sometimes, laity exert control in order to control the pastor. For example, check out this story out of England. I don’t mean CONTROL but LEADERSHIP—in the healthiest way possible. So perhaps it is more accurate to say, the strong and healthier the lay leadership of a congregation, the stronger, more expending we would expect that congregation to be.
In the coming year at Calvary, we’re going to be working to grow our training for our lay leadership. While this has great promise for us, it will mean asking even more of our leaders (and those we hope to bring into leadership). But it will, I am sure, bear great fruit! Keep an eye open for more info!
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
A Month of Luke: Luke 3
I just finished reading today’s chapter. Which, if you’ve read it, means you understand how my head is swimming in NAMES! And all after yesterday’s reflection on my daughter’s name. Boy, there are a lot of names in there that I suspect few kids born this year in the US will be getting!
Seems like this has become a pattern for me, but yet again today, two main things seem to be catching me from this chapter.
First, is the sense that there is a right time. Even when we’re dealing with God coming to us in Jesus, we are given this picture of preparation, anchor in scripture, etc. Surely if any being could do anything at any time, it would be God. But God chose to work in a certain way, deliberatively. We use the word KAIROS to talk about God’s time. I won’t spend a ton of time defining kairos here, if you want to learn more, check out kairos on Wikipedia.
For me, I think it’s pretty clear when you’re right in the midst of God’s kairos. I think Jesus’ coming must have been a pretty incredible instance—the most incredible. But we find kairos all over the place even today.
One of the big projects I’ve been working on almost since arriving at Calvary is starting a new, contemporary (though we’ve had lots of discussions about if that’s even the appropriate word to use) worship service. It was one of the first areas that Ken asked me to work on, and we’ve had lots of ups and downs. In spring 2010, we started Koinonia (we like Greek words). The continuation of conversations that had been happening for a while at Calvary, we took what had been done so far and tried to mold it into a service…including lots of new input from some, like myself, newer to the conversations.
Our experience with Koinonia could fill a whole month of blogs itself. I’m happy to share our experience if you’re interested, but I’ll save the space here. Suffice it to say, we learned a lot. I, for sure, learned a lot. And earlier this year, we decided to “pause it.” I think we knew it would never come back as it was, but we wanted to make it clear we had not given up on a new service. We just needed to be able to come back at it without that baggage of trying to keep adjusting what we already had.
This past Sunday, then, we had our first service of “The Sanctuary.” And boy, can I feel God’s kairos on our side. For me, I sense I’m in God’s kairos with a big task seems to go smoothly. I can sense a major difference between the start of Koinonia and that start of The Sanctuary. Some of it, no doubt is experience, but even that is part of kairos.
The Sanctuary meets Sundays (right now just the 2nd and 4th Sundays of the month) in our chancel. Though, with 19 people at our first service (and a few of those were babies) it won’t be long before we’ll be overflowing the chancel seats and needing to push out into other areas of the sanctuary. We start with music (we need musicians, so let me know if you’re interested on a regular or occasional basis), then have fellowship (right there in the sanctuary) and then our message. For the summer we’re looking at secular songs and relating them to life lessons and to scripture. Starting in the fall, we’ll be inviting different people to come be interviewed then I’ll tie things together in a brief message. We’re going to call it “Conversations in the Sanctuary.” It’s hard to describe kairos, sometimes. But you know it when you’re in the midst of it.
The second thing that jumps out at me from Luke 3 is the story of John. During my college junior year, I spent my fall semester studying at College Year in Athens—in Athens, Greece. It was one of the most incredible experience of my life. I STRONGLY recommend that every college student take advantage of study abroad experiences if they can—especially to a place they may never get to visit otherwise.
While in Greece, I got to take several trips, both with our program and on my own. One of the trips I took on my own was along with a tour group to Meteora. Meteora is a really interesting place geologically.
Over many years, monasteries have been built here, so our trip was to visit them, including the largest, The Great Meteoron. In the narthex of that monastery are the images of martyrs of the faith. This is, I was told, to serve as an encouragement to Christians facing persecution. One of those images was of John the Baptist. I guess the image itself isn’t that novel—of him holding his own head on a platter (not headless horseman style, he HAD his head AND his head on a platter). Aside from it seeming a bit Halloween-ish, the image was one of my favorites I saw in Greece. I got a copy of it for my dad. Sure, it seems kind of ridiculous, but it brings to mind the entire story of John the Baptist, a story that is continued here (remember, we heard about John’s parents earlier in Luke).
The gospels seem to indicate that some thought John might be the Messiah. And that he clearly refuted that. John seems to have lived an odd life, owing at least in part to the vows made on his behalf earlier in Luke. John doesn’t seem to have had a “normal” life at all. And all for the sole purpose of preparing people for Jesus’ arrival on the scene.
It seems a bit thankless, doesn’t it? In many ways, a less than glamorous, and indeed quite a way to just sacrifice all the bits of life that are so important to many of us—family, romantic love, a respectable place in society. John had none of that…not so that he could BE the Messiah, but just to PREPARE people FOR the Messiah.
In a lot of ways, though, that’s what we’re called to do. To prepare people for God’s presence in their lives (“prepare” being a bit theologically inappropriate to say, but you get my gist). To help people see God. To help people recognize God with God is at work. To truly do this work, we may have to think long and hard about whether we’re holding on to things, to parts of our lives, out of our own will, rather than God’s.
All of this brings to mind what we call the Covenant Prayer in the Wesleyan Tradition. It may be at best CLOSE to a prayer that Wesley used, but it does indeed capture his approach to discipleship, and, I think, discipleship as it is presented in the Gospel of Luke for sure.
I am no longer my own, but thine.
Put me to what thou wilt, rank me with whom thou wilt.
Put me to doing, put me to suffering.
Let me be employed by thee or laid aside for thee,
Exalted for thee or brought low for thee.
Let me be full, let me be empty.
Let me have all things, let me have nothing.
I freely and heartily yield all things
To thy pleasure and disposal.
And now, O glorious and blessed God,
Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,
Thou art mine, and I am thine. So be it.
And the covenant which I have made on earth,
Let it be ratified in heaven.
Amen.
Seems like this has become a pattern for me, but yet again today, two main things seem to be catching me from this chapter.
First, is the sense that there is a right time. Even when we’re dealing with God coming to us in Jesus, we are given this picture of preparation, anchor in scripture, etc. Surely if any being could do anything at any time, it would be God. But God chose to work in a certain way, deliberatively. We use the word KAIROS to talk about God’s time. I won’t spend a ton of time defining kairos here, if you want to learn more, check out kairos on Wikipedia.
For me, I think it’s pretty clear when you’re right in the midst of God’s kairos. I think Jesus’ coming must have been a pretty incredible instance—the most incredible. But we find kairos all over the place even today.
One of the big projects I’ve been working on almost since arriving at Calvary is starting a new, contemporary (though we’ve had lots of discussions about if that’s even the appropriate word to use) worship service. It was one of the first areas that Ken asked me to work on, and we’ve had lots of ups and downs. In spring 2010, we started Koinonia (we like Greek words). The continuation of conversations that had been happening for a while at Calvary, we took what had been done so far and tried to mold it into a service…including lots of new input from some, like myself, newer to the conversations.
Our experience with Koinonia could fill a whole month of blogs itself. I’m happy to share our experience if you’re interested, but I’ll save the space here. Suffice it to say, we learned a lot. I, for sure, learned a lot. And earlier this year, we decided to “pause it.” I think we knew it would never come back as it was, but we wanted to make it clear we had not given up on a new service. We just needed to be able to come back at it without that baggage of trying to keep adjusting what we already had.
This past Sunday, then, we had our first service of “The Sanctuary.” And boy, can I feel God’s kairos on our side. For me, I sense I’m in God’s kairos with a big task seems to go smoothly. I can sense a major difference between the start of Koinonia and that start of The Sanctuary. Some of it, no doubt is experience, but even that is part of kairos.
The Sanctuary meets Sundays (right now just the 2nd and 4th Sundays of the month) in our chancel. Though, with 19 people at our first service (and a few of those were babies) it won’t be long before we’ll be overflowing the chancel seats and needing to push out into other areas of the sanctuary. We start with music (we need musicians, so let me know if you’re interested on a regular or occasional basis), then have fellowship (right there in the sanctuary) and then our message. For the summer we’re looking at secular songs and relating them to life lessons and to scripture. Starting in the fall, we’ll be inviting different people to come be interviewed then I’ll tie things together in a brief message. We’re going to call it “Conversations in the Sanctuary.” It’s hard to describe kairos, sometimes. But you know it when you’re in the midst of it.
The second thing that jumps out at me from Luke 3 is the story of John. During my college junior year, I spent my fall semester studying at College Year in Athens—in Athens, Greece. It was one of the most incredible experience of my life. I STRONGLY recommend that every college student take advantage of study abroad experiences if they can—especially to a place they may never get to visit otherwise.
While in Greece, I got to take several trips, both with our program and on my own. One of the trips I took on my own was along with a tour group to Meteora. Meteora is a really interesting place geologically.
Over many years, monasteries have been built here, so our trip was to visit them, including the largest, The Great Meteoron. In the narthex of that monastery are the images of martyrs of the faith. This is, I was told, to serve as an encouragement to Christians facing persecution. One of those images was of John the Baptist. I guess the image itself isn’t that novel—of him holding his own head on a platter (not headless horseman style, he HAD his head AND his head on a platter). Aside from it seeming a bit Halloween-ish, the image was one of my favorites I saw in Greece. I got a copy of it for my dad. Sure, it seems kind of ridiculous, but it brings to mind the entire story of John the Baptist, a story that is continued here (remember, we heard about John’s parents earlier in Luke).
The gospels seem to indicate that some thought John might be the Messiah. And that he clearly refuted that. John seems to have lived an odd life, owing at least in part to the vows made on his behalf earlier in Luke. John doesn’t seem to have had a “normal” life at all. And all for the sole purpose of preparing people for Jesus’ arrival on the scene.
It seems a bit thankless, doesn’t it? In many ways, a less than glamorous, and indeed quite a way to just sacrifice all the bits of life that are so important to many of us—family, romantic love, a respectable place in society. John had none of that…not so that he could BE the Messiah, but just to PREPARE people FOR the Messiah.
In a lot of ways, though, that’s what we’re called to do. To prepare people for God’s presence in their lives (“prepare” being a bit theologically inappropriate to say, but you get my gist). To help people see God. To help people recognize God with God is at work. To truly do this work, we may have to think long and hard about whether we’re holding on to things, to parts of our lives, out of our own will, rather than God’s.
All of this brings to mind what we call the Covenant Prayer in the Wesleyan Tradition. It may be at best CLOSE to a prayer that Wesley used, but it does indeed capture his approach to discipleship, and, I think, discipleship as it is presented in the Gospel of Luke for sure.
I am no longer my own, but thine.
Put me to what thou wilt, rank me with whom thou wilt.
Put me to doing, put me to suffering.
Let me be employed by thee or laid aside for thee,
Exalted for thee or brought low for thee.
Let me be full, let me be empty.
Let me have all things, let me have nothing.
I freely and heartily yield all things
To thy pleasure and disposal.
And now, O glorious and blessed God,
Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,
Thou art mine, and I am thine. So be it.
And the covenant which I have made on earth,
Let it be ratified in heaven.
Amen.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
A Month of Luke: Luke 2
The reading today from Luke 2 is yet again another really packed one. And not to skip along past the Christmas story—but well, let’s skip along. Why? I could surely write loads on the theological meaning of Christ’s birth. Of the historical importance of details Luke includes, etc. But for me, upon this reading, I find me mind captured by two other parts of Luke 2 that bring to mind my nearly eight-month old daughter.
My husband and I always hoped to have children. We were married August 30, 2008, which was MAYBE a year and a half after we’d first met. We wanted to wait a little bit before having children, but even early on we started talking about children. It was a bit surprising to me to find that apparently guys don’t pick out their children’s names as little boys. I mean, most GIRLS I know have at least thought about it. I had certainly done that. And I had always wanted to name a daughter Rebekah. I found myself, however, now married to a man whose sister’s name was Rebecca—and a husband who much preferred his sister’s spelling than the one I’d had in mind. So it was just as well that we looked elsewhere. It all happened on a car ride to VA to sister my husband’s sister. Driving along back roads (we’d gotten, well, a bit off track) we discussed naming guidelines (Bible name, family name), family naming traditions, ease of names going well with our last name (no easy feat) and settled upon one name for a boy and one name for a girl (we’ll have to go back to the drawing board if our next child is a girl!). There it was, then, several months before we ever got pregnant, that we had our daughter’s name picked out.
We had chosen Anna Marie. Marie is a generations-old family name on my side, and also relates to my mother—in-law’s name (Mary). Most of all, it was my given middle name, which I dropped when I got married and took my maiden name (as former parishioner Helen Seek said, “For professional reasons”). Anna is the name of my husband’s maternal grandmother, as well as a name on my side (my maternal grandmother’s name is Anne Marie).
Anna, is also, of course, the name of a woman we meet in our passage today. We are told ABOUT Anna, even though we are not told her actual words. It seems to me that Anna is portrayed as someone who was able to see what God was doing. And I can’t think of a better legacy for my own daughter than that. How much indeed does the world need help seeing God at work!
The second part that catches my eye now as a mother is the last section, about Jesus at the temple. I love Mary’s line, when they find Jesus, "Child, why have you treated us like this? Look, your father and I have been searching for you in great anxiety." She is a much calmer person than I would be. But then, she IS a saint, right? I like Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase of that line a lot too: "Young man, why have you done this to us? Your father and I have been half out of our minds looking for you."
As I read that, and as I wonder what Anna’s life hold, I can’t help but wonder if (and I hope it’s not so much IF but WHEN) she’ll find that obeying her parents or following our advice is at odds with God’s will in her life. I’d like to think she would never have to make such a choice, but I think we all, or most of us at least, eventually find ourselves at that point where we realize that our parents are not perfect. And even if they are trying their very best, they have, as sinful creatures themselves, let even their advice to and care for us be tainted by their own will.
My only hope for when that happens (and I hope at least that it doesn’t happen too often) that Anna will indeed be able to follow God’s leading even when it is hard for us. Now, I hope God will help us out a bit and not let this all happen till, say, she’s out of her preteen years at least. But then, Mary and Joseph were special, so perhaps that why they got it so early in their son’s life.
The good news is that after this whole experience, Jesus seems to have followed them home where he lived out his childhood as a dutiful son. In the end then, they probably got off pretty easy. But this was as much, I suspect a pivotal experience for Mary and Joseph as it was for Jesus. Their son, they were reminded, was not their own. But God’s. Was, in fact, God. The rest of us may not (and in fact, do not) find ourselves as parents of God’s only child. But we do find ourselves as parents of children who are gifted to us by God. Who do not, in fact, BELONG to us. This is something I understand to be powerfully demonstrated when a child is baptized. I believe one of the things that is happening is that the parents are testifying to their own realization that they are caretakers, not possessors, of their child.
This is, then, then same message we see when Mary and Jesus take their son to the temple earlier in the gospel. As it reads, “22 When the time came for their purification according to the law of Moses, they brought him up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord 23 (as it is written in the law of the Lord, "Every firstborn male shall be designated as holy to the Lord"), 24 and they offered a sacrifice according to what is stated in the law of the Lord, "a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons."
And, I think we also see it in the very story of Jesus’ birth. This reality that this child, not unlike all children, is to some extent more than just the possession of a family. I mean, I cannot imagine random shepherds showing up days or even hours after my child’s birth. Mary would likely have been still very much in recovery herself. Trying to get the whole breastfeeding thing worked out. Tired. Not to mention she and Joseph were in a strange place, and there is no indication they were surrounded by family to help.
It is there we meet this child. Who is so much more than just the child of a man and a woman. So much more meaning and purpose in the world. My daughter Anna is not God’s begotten child. But she is nonetheless so much more than merely a possession of Chris and me. With far more meaning and purpose in the world than to do our will. May she indeed help people see God at work and do God’s will in all things.
My husband and I always hoped to have children. We were married August 30, 2008, which was MAYBE a year and a half after we’d first met. We wanted to wait a little bit before having children, but even early on we started talking about children. It was a bit surprising to me to find that apparently guys don’t pick out their children’s names as little boys. I mean, most GIRLS I know have at least thought about it. I had certainly done that. And I had always wanted to name a daughter Rebekah. I found myself, however, now married to a man whose sister’s name was Rebecca—and a husband who much preferred his sister’s spelling than the one I’d had in mind. So it was just as well that we looked elsewhere. It all happened on a car ride to VA to sister my husband’s sister. Driving along back roads (we’d gotten, well, a bit off track) we discussed naming guidelines (Bible name, family name), family naming traditions, ease of names going well with our last name (no easy feat) and settled upon one name for a boy and one name for a girl (we’ll have to go back to the drawing board if our next child is a girl!). There it was, then, several months before we ever got pregnant, that we had our daughter’s name picked out.
We had chosen Anna Marie. Marie is a generations-old family name on my side, and also relates to my mother—in-law’s name (Mary). Most of all, it was my given middle name, which I dropped when I got married and took my maiden name (as former parishioner Helen Seek said, “For professional reasons”). Anna is the name of my husband’s maternal grandmother, as well as a name on my side (my maternal grandmother’s name is Anne Marie).
Anna, is also, of course, the name of a woman we meet in our passage today. We are told ABOUT Anna, even though we are not told her actual words. It seems to me that Anna is portrayed as someone who was able to see what God was doing. And I can’t think of a better legacy for my own daughter than that. How much indeed does the world need help seeing God at work!
The second part that catches my eye now as a mother is the last section, about Jesus at the temple. I love Mary’s line, when they find Jesus, "Child, why have you treated us like this? Look, your father and I have been searching for you in great anxiety." She is a much calmer person than I would be. But then, she IS a saint, right? I like Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase of that line a lot too: "Young man, why have you done this to us? Your father and I have been half out of our minds looking for you."
As I read that, and as I wonder what Anna’s life hold, I can’t help but wonder if (and I hope it’s not so much IF but WHEN) she’ll find that obeying her parents or following our advice is at odds with God’s will in her life. I’d like to think she would never have to make such a choice, but I think we all, or most of us at least, eventually find ourselves at that point where we realize that our parents are not perfect. And even if they are trying their very best, they have, as sinful creatures themselves, let even their advice to and care for us be tainted by their own will.
My only hope for when that happens (and I hope at least that it doesn’t happen too often) that Anna will indeed be able to follow God’s leading even when it is hard for us. Now, I hope God will help us out a bit and not let this all happen till, say, she’s out of her preteen years at least. But then, Mary and Joseph were special, so perhaps that why they got it so early in their son’s life.
The good news is that after this whole experience, Jesus seems to have followed them home where he lived out his childhood as a dutiful son. In the end then, they probably got off pretty easy. But this was as much, I suspect a pivotal experience for Mary and Joseph as it was for Jesus. Their son, they were reminded, was not their own. But God’s. Was, in fact, God. The rest of us may not (and in fact, do not) find ourselves as parents of God’s only child. But we do find ourselves as parents of children who are gifted to us by God. Who do not, in fact, BELONG to us. This is something I understand to be powerfully demonstrated when a child is baptized. I believe one of the things that is happening is that the parents are testifying to their own realization that they are caretakers, not possessors, of their child.
This is, then, then same message we see when Mary and Jesus take their son to the temple earlier in the gospel. As it reads, “22 When the time came for their purification according to the law of Moses, they brought him up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord 23 (as it is written in the law of the Lord, "Every firstborn male shall be designated as holy to the Lord"), 24 and they offered a sacrifice according to what is stated in the law of the Lord, "a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons."
And, I think we also see it in the very story of Jesus’ birth. This reality that this child, not unlike all children, is to some extent more than just the possession of a family. I mean, I cannot imagine random shepherds showing up days or even hours after my child’s birth. Mary would likely have been still very much in recovery herself. Trying to get the whole breastfeeding thing worked out. Tired. Not to mention she and Joseph were in a strange place, and there is no indication they were surrounded by family to help.
It is there we meet this child. Who is so much more than just the child of a man and a woman. So much more meaning and purpose in the world. My daughter Anna is not God’s begotten child. But she is nonetheless so much more than merely a possession of Chris and me. With far more meaning and purpose in the world than to do our will. May she indeed help people see God at work and do God’s will in all things.
Monday, July 11, 2011
A Month of Luke: Luke 1
Last week I met with one of our recent high school graduates at Calvary, whose family's transition from their former congregation to Calvary happen right around the time of confirmation. Since she is now a good bit older than our usual confirmation kids, we'd decided to do something that combines our confirmation program and our new member class for adults. One of the things I've taken from our confirmation program us reading the gospel of Luke together (Calvary uses Willimon's Making Disciples confirmation program). I'm notoriously bad at being faithful for reading programs (yeah, I was THAT person in Disciple who read at the last minute or just skimmed...and yes, I was the teacher...) so I thought I'd try to do this by reading one chapter a day and posting some thoughts to my blog. Hopefully hte knowledge that perhaps SOMEONE will notice when I don't post will in fact keep me faithful to posting (and reading) that one chapter a day. Luke has 24 chapters, and we've got about that much time before she joins Calvary, so hopefully it works out. But maybe I'll try a couple chapters some days.
I invite you, if you don't have a Bible reading plan, to join me. Feel free to post and leave your own comments on the chapter. Or, if Luke isn't your thing, maybe take the challenge yourself (one chapter a day) using another book of the Bible that interests you. Some good summer reading!
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LUKE 1
Luke 1 is surely a packed chapter. I love that it has the story of Zechariah and Elizabeth—this is a great but often overlooked part of the story of Jesus’ birth. This morning as I read it, I was struck by that story alongside Mary’s story. Specifically, here you have two women who conceive, but with very different implications.
We are told that Elizabeth has been barren, and this has been a source of shame for her among the people. We’ve seen this before in scripture, so we know that the lack of a child was indeed a source of shame in their time. Lacking birth control as we have today, there could be little question about WHY a woman hadn’t borne a child. Today, one could just as soon assume a couple had chosen not to have children (or have them yet) for a whole host of reasons (professional reasons, health reasons, financial reasons, etc.) but at that time, it seems it would have almost universally been related to some biological issue, which was, as was common of many things at that time, to be attributed to God’s will, often by way of punishment.
So for Elizabeth, this is indeed joyous news. Absent are any of the concerns of a late-in-life pregnancy you might have today, and right in the forefront is her joyousness at this evidence that there is nothing wrong with her. Gone is her shame.
Meanwhile, you have Mary. For her, the news of her pregnancy is not the same joyous occasion. She is, as will be laid out even more as Luke continues, in a precarious situation. Engaged to Joseph, she has to contend with a fiancé, her family, and her community as she has gotten pregnant out of wedlock. I imagine how each woman reacted when they discovered they were pregnant. If they lived today, I imagine Elizabeth would have posted on Facebook. Everyday. May have posted ultrasound pics. News of her latest baby shopping trip. There would be a baby shower. Or two. Or three. It would have been great fun.
But what about for Mary? I can’t help but think of the episodes I’ve seen of 16 and Pregnant on MTV. I imagine Mary may have shared some things in common with some of those girls. Like the one who hid her pregnancy, not even sharing it with her closest friends, until she was 6 or so months pregnant. I wonder if Mary hid it at all. Or did she push on, proud that she was carrying God’s child. But how do you explain that to people? What a difficult thing it is to be doing God’s will when you just cannot explain it to others in ways they will understand. When God’s will puts you outside of what the community expects.
For me, this chapter is not only a great start to the story of Jesus, but also a call to all of us to celebrate each life. Each child of God is loved. And the truth is, it can be easier to judge a situation than to see God at work. New life is a wonderful thing. And those who bring a child into a difficult situation have enough to contend with without adding the condescension of others. Who are we to declare God’s will? Who are we to try to decide who is favored? Is that not God’s work? And are not all children—at their birth and throughout their lives—deeply loved by God? I believe they are.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Lessons Learned--Seven Years In
As I mentioned in my sermon Sunday, July 1 is a momentous day for all United Methodist pastors. For some, like my brother Daniel, who began his first full-time appointment this year at Cowenton UMC in White Marsh, or Emily Berkowitz, the new pastor of Buckeystown UMC who I had lunch with today, it marks an incredible new beginning. For others, like our senior pastor Ken or myself, it marks an anniversary-- the start ofeight years and three years at Calvary, respectively. It is always a good opportunity to reflect on where we are in ministry. And for me, an opportunity to reflect on the lessons I've learned. It seems hard to believe that I'm entering my seventh year in full-time ministry. Here are JUST A FEW of the lessons of pastoral ministry I've learned thus far:
Seven years in, and it's incredible to look at what these seven years have brought me both professionally and personally. I can't wait to see where the next seven lead--let alone beyond that. One thing is for sure, many lessons learned lie ahead. And hopefully more and more opportunities to use all those lessons learned to build up the kingdom!
- You've got to be prepared/open to becoming an expert (or as good as you can be) on lots of random things. For me, I've learned more about copier leases, feeding horses and Photoshop (among other things) than my seminary education would have suggested I would need to.
- Listen. Often a host of problems can be avoided by just not speaking. Even if you can't listen, at least stay silent sometimes. This is a hard lesson for me :-)
- Prioritize your tasks. You simply cannot get everything done, and certainly not all at once.
- Adapt to new ministry settings. You've got to find a balance between adaptation and being yourself, to be sure. But if God calls you to a place and a people, there is work and growth to be had. Sometimes you'll learn things about yourself you didn't know, all because you were willing to explore new ways of being in ministry.
- Everything changes. Roll with it.
- At that same time though, know what you stand for. And stand for it. Just remember you don't have to be a jerk while doing so.
- Take time off. And don't (or try not to) feel guilty doing so. If you don't it will catch up with you, then you won't be of use to anyone.
Seven years in, and it's incredible to look at what these seven years have brought me both professionally and personally. I can't wait to see where the next seven lead--let alone beyond that. One thing is for sure, many lessons learned lie ahead. And hopefully more and more opportunities to use all those lessons learned to build up the kingdom!
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