Earth Day

Showing posts with label expansive language. Show all posts
Showing posts with label expansive language. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 30, 2016

Sunday, July 31, 2016, Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, "Watching our p's and q's"

C Proper 13 18 Ord BFC 2016
Hosea 11:1-11
July 31, 2016

Language carries culture.  I believe language not only carries culture, it shapes our perception, our attitudes and understandings of who we are and who we are in relationship to the world.  Our communal worship is a time when we say that we are practicing, practicing our courage for life in the real world—a world that may look nothing like the way that God wants or wills it.  So often, worship, by its very nature, should be countercultural.  The world says this and repeats this message.  In worship, we say this and repeat this message.  Because we do not want the world’s message to get into your bloodstream and define you.  Every week I share a “Statement of God’s Love” because I believe the world tells you, over and over again, that you are too fat or too skinny, don’t work hard enough or work too much.  Land O Goshen, you may even have dandruff.  And I want you to hear God responding by saying, “Who cares?  Love.  I love you.  You’re good.”  And God says, “Let’s go transform the world together.”  The language we use in worship shapes our perceptions, our attitudes and understandings of who we are and who we are in relationship to God, our neighbor, and the earth. 
When I was a small child, attending Christian Union Church in Metamora, a rural or town church that was a bedroom community for Peoria, Illinois, and Caterpillar, my pastor would say, just before he handed off the communion bread and grape juice to the communion stewards, “And he gave it to his disciples . . .”  He did it, I’m sure, to create the feeling that as this ritual was practiced then so we practice it now.  As with all good ritual, my pastor sought to collapse the past and the future into the present so that we believed we were doing something of eternal value. 
But in doing that, for a long time, my belief was that those people who took the bread and the grape juice out to the congregation were indeed the disciples.  I remember being a little perplexed that none of their first names, some of which I knew, did not correspond with the disciples’ names in the Bible.  It was a spiritual question that vexed me for the longest time.  I know, my brain works in strange ways!  It was a reminder that how we name things in worship matters. 
How we name things is important, the language we use in sacred space can convey deep meaning or confusion or pain or growth.  And we need to re-negotiate what we name things.  We need to be intentional about the language we use so that we continue to seek deep meaning and growth for ourselves.  Because if we are using the same words in faith for ourselves, for God, for our faith, that we used as a child, how do we communicate that we have grown in faith as we get older?  How do we say, in our naming, that our faith matures, and that we are still willing and open to growth?
When I first arrived as Senior Minister of this church a little under two years ago, I officiated at a number of weddings for gay and lesbian couples.  Officiated is a strange word for what a pastor does at a marriage or funeral, isn’t it?  Kind of like, “Personal foul, allowing the groom’s mother to pick the wedding dress.  15 yards, automatic, first down!”  That’s the kind of thing that runs through my goofy head.  And words especially matter in these weddings because the world has some incredibly wicked things to say to lesbian and gay individuals and couples.  At one of the most critical times in their lives, when self-esteem can be at its absolute lowest, our world too often says that hay and lesbian people are "less than" and that their love is not valid.  So what I say in that space take on an even greater significance.  
Anyway, I assume I was being asked to officiate because a number of these couples were afraid that the window might close on their ability to have their relationship recognized.  Again, that worldly message.  Marriage is tough as it is, now we throw in toxic messages?  
The only things I try to require of any couples seeking to be married is that they go through some intensive pre-marital counseling with me.  Having been through a divorce myself, how it created such pain for me and my two boys, I want to give these couples the very best chance to have a healthy and growing relationship.  
One of the things I try to relate to couples in pre-marital counseling, in whatever imperfect way, is that re-negotiating their relationship will not be a sign of their weakness as a couple, but a sign of their strength.  Over and over again, they will have to define what love and loyalty mean for them individually and as a couple.  Sometimes that will mean standing up for themselves.  Sometimes that will mean standing up for the relationship.  Sometimes it will mean saying, “You promised me” or “We promised each other” or helping the other person recognize that a different life situation or circumstance does not convey a lack of love or loyalty.
Rabbi Sharon Brous, a vibrant faith leader from Los Angeles, believes that the Jewish High Holy Days can be defined as a renegotiated marriage.  She talks about such a strong will for relationship that we are willing to challenge God by saying, “God, I did my work this year, but where are you?  How could you let the world look the way it does?”  But we also know we are challenged by similar covenant questions, “Where have I not been the human being I need to be in the world?  And where have I let myself down and let other people down, and let God down?”[1]  Rabbi Brous believes that God wills, wants with all God’s heart, a fierce, passionate, accountable, and covenantal relationship with us. 
Rabbi Brous’ understanding of the Jewish High Holy Days is confirmed by Scripture.  Many of the Jewish prophets understood the relationship between God and Israel as a marriage covenant.  The prophet Hosea even believes that God commands him to marry a prostitute so that Hosea may come to understand the pain, agony, and brokenness God feels.   The whole nation has broken covenant.  We go out chasing the things that are not of God, not bargained for, not promised, and God cries out wanting something much, much more. 
God as marriage partner—how we envision God, how we name God, how we picture God in our mind’s eye matters.  For how we name God and picture God often dictates how we move and act in the world. 
I believe that so strongly.  I believe that so strongly that one of the first things I do as a spiritual director is to have a person state how they name God and then help them see how that naming dictates the rest of their understanding and action.   “Words are one of the primary ways by which we connect with one another.  We are affected both consciously and unconsciously by the words we use.”[2]  Naming conveys meaning and relationship.
Never was that so true for me when I planned for and officiated at the wedding of my brother and sister-in-law.  At some points in my life, my brother, Andy, has been my best friend.  He is one of the people I respect and love most in the universe.  So it was an honor when my brother and his betrothed asked me to officiate their wedding service. 
In planning every wedding, I always ask the couple, “How would you like me to refer to you during the service?  Would you like your full name, your first full name, or a nickname?”  My brother, who everyone else calls, “Andy,” said, “Andrew.” 
“Andrew,” my soon to be sister-in-law inquired, “nobody I know calls you Andrew, who calls you Andrew?”
 Without hesitation, my brother said, “Mike does.”  I am the only one who calls him Andrew, and that’s how he wanted to be named in the wedding service. In two words, my brother conveyed his relationship and the nature of that relationship with me—how strong it was for him.  You cannot imagine what it meant to me that one of the people I feel closest to in the universe, conveyed with one word, what I mean to him—to know that the power and strength of our relationship was mutual.   I could have run through a brick wall.
In naming and in language, we not only indicate our relationship but also indicate an intention and direction for our lives.
So it is in our relationship with God.   If we are to be led out in growth and life with God, we need to name God in a way that will challenge us to grow and recognize the necessary re-negotiation we must do in our covenantal relationship with God.  The prophet Hosea talks about a God who leads us with cords of human kindness, with bands of love, helping the child to walk.  “I was to them,” God says, “as one who lifts them to my cheeks.  I bent down,” one Hebrew translation states, “and fed them with my breast.” 
In a world, in a culture that so often calls God, “He,” what do you call a God who does those kind of things?  Mother?  Nursemaid?  There it is, right there in the Bible.  A God who says that even though the love and loyalty, the covenant has been broken, God cannot give up on the people.  Though the penalty for a disobedient son is stoning, God’s compassion grows warm and tender.
How we name God matters, and if we have only male images and names for God, then our language can lead to our action, our next steps, our direction.     
So today I would like you all to think of a name for God that gives you comfort, and in a moment I am going to ask you to share that with your neighbors around you.  Maybe your name is “Everlasting Father”, “Creator”, or “Breath of Life.”  It’s a name that makes you feel at home with God and perhaps reminds you of some moment in your past when you knew God to be present.  I want you to share a name for God and a sentence about why that name is special to you with your neighbor.
But then I would like you to share a name for God that challenges you, and perhaps, a name that you recognize as necessary for your growth.  Almost all spiritual awakening happens through dis-ease, discomfort, or pain which moves us off our center to imagine a God who is far broader or more deep than what we could have imagined.  Like the prophet Hosea, God is unexpectedly more graceful than we could have imagined, full of compassion, warm and tender.  Maybe that name for God is “Mother of Mercies,” “God of Our Struggle,” “Parent of the Poor,” or “Suffering God.”
You may be surprised to learn that my name for the God who I know and have learned to know is “Underground Stream.”  It reminds me that God works from below and is continually flowing with life and love into the world.  The name for God which causes me discomfort or pain is “Inner Peace” because I do not experience much inner peace in my life.   But at the same time, that name leads me out and pushes me beyond myself, encourages my necessary growth, in some strange way.  I am also working real hard to incorporate the name, “Maker of All Things” into my prayer life because that is the name the Crow people use for a God who is connected to them and a source of power for them and all of creation.  It is a prayer to God I have that the Crow people might know me to be safe and seeking strong relationship with them.
We know that any image of God is incomplete.  But as I alluded to earlier, we should not be stuck with an image of God we held at 5 that we now take as our image at 25 or 85.  For our images should grow and evolve with our experiences.  The development of positive, life-giving images that sometimes challenge us is vital as we grow into a mature faith.[3]
So now I turn to you.  Your name does not have to be original or special.  It just has to be yours.  Share with your neighbors around you the name for God that brings you comfort, is what you use when you pray, or is the image that comes from your heart.  Share a sentence for why that image is important to you. 
And also, share an image for God that gives you pause and challenges you, that you wish you were more like.  Share a sentence for why that image may be a growing edge for you.  Let’s take a moment of silence where we all might reflect on what those names are and then begin sharing.  I’ll time it.  Let’s take a minute for reflection and I’ll make Steve promise he won’t play “Jeopardy Theme Music” during that time. 
Take time to share with your neighbors now.
If Hosea is right, our relationship with God is a covenantal relationship, like marriage, that must be forever re-negotiated.  Much like marriage partners, if we are to grow, we must learn what loyalty and love mean each day, each week, and each year in our relationship with God.  Whether we call God “The Dreamer of Dreams,” “The Gentle Friend,” or “Our Host at Table”, what we name God defines our relationship with God and, ultimately, defines who we are.  May we forever pray, worship, and live into a faith that offers us both grace, comfort, and growth so that our love for God and neighbor continues to expand our minds and enlarge our hearts.  Amen.




[1] “Interview with Rabbi Sharon Brous,” Speaking of Faith, Krista Tippett, Host, http://speakingoffaith.publicradio.org/programs/2008/daysofawe/transcript.shtml
[2] Janet Schaffran and Pat Kozak, More Than Words:  Prayer and Ritual for Inclusive Communities (New York:  Crossroads Publishing Company, 1986), p. 4.
[3] Ibid, pp. 12-13.

Monday, August 17, 2015

Sermon for the 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time, August 16, 2015

B Proper 15 BFC
Proverbs 8-9
August 16, 2015

          I’m sure that all of you have heard the story by now.  As you well know, when the search committee heard me preach for the first time in Bozeman . . . a shaft of light came down from the heavens, the glory of the Living God shone around me, and a voice shook the room saying, “This is the candidate destined for Billings First Congregational United Church of Christ,” and, members of the search committee will have to help me out here, was it, “Yea?” or “Verily?”  Ok, “Verily, this Metamoron shall guide you.”
          So maybe it didn’t happen that way, maybe it is just that we live in such a fact fundamentalist age yearning for mythically static and certain answers.  We want to know we are blessed, that God, or at least fate, has smiled our way, and we know our path has been foreordained by the angels or signs—the bright, gleaming yellow bricks sung about in a very popular musical with Dorothy and her friends.
          We might bring our critical hearts and minds to that “shaft of light” story to say we know it did not happen that way.  But there is no doubt that deep within us some times, we yearn for that story to be true. 
          We also live in an age where we not only yearn for the story to be true, we have given in to that story and made it gospel, the good news.  We so desperately want to know that we are the blessed ones, that God is present and available to us in the midst of all the world’s alarms, forecast of gloom and doom, real terror and fear. 
          Sometimes the marriage of a culture which wants to know itself blessed and also wants to imprint upon us that we are consumers makes for some interesting cultural marriages.  Sometimes I am so immersed in it, I’ll have to admit that I do not have the eyes to see the strange ways we have joined God’s blessing with our consumer culture. 
          Perhaps we all need “other eyes” to truly see ourselves.
          Not too long after the terrible and evil events of 9/11, I was working with the Witness for Peace New England team to decide whether to bring our fall speaker to the United States for his tour.  Jóel Suarez Rodés, the General Coordinator of the Martin Luther King, Jr. Center in Havana, Cuba, the tour’s featured speaker, shared with me that the terror and grief experienced by Amercans was a terror and grief shared by the world on behalf of Americans.  He and his people had openly and regularly prayed for us after 9/11. 
          After arriving in the States, Jóel was a bit bemused, though, by the confluence of culture the tragedy provoked.  While I was too enmeshed in American culture to notice, Jóel would point to different signs around the University of New Hampshire campus he found, well, curious.  “These colors don’t run, twin lobsters, $15.99,”; “United we stand, bedroom and dresser sets at low prices,” and, of course, “God bless America, Big Mac Extra Value Meal $2.99.”
          Whether we be conservative or liberal, we have done an unusually good job of bringing God’s blessings under our control, throwing God into a recyclable cardboard container and serving him up with fries and drink for an extra low price.  We demand that God remain static, certain, and available to sell our merchandise.
          Within Scripture, wisdom literature offers a balance to such easy domestication of life and the Living God.  For example, the book of Job asks difficult questions about why the righteous and innocent suffer.  The book of Jonah asks whether any people or nation is beyond the love and mercy of God.  And the book of Ecclesiastes asks whether life has any real meaning at all.  Or is life just a “puff of breath?”  Biblical Wisdom literature, part of our Revised Common Lectionary for this late summer and then in late fall, sees the double edges, the paradoxes, the boundary crossings as part of living in the real world.
          Woman Wisdom, the one who crosses boundaries between the human and divine in Proverbs, frequents both public and private places, calls out from the marketplace, streets, city gates, and walls, but also invites people to come and enjoy her fine wines and choice meats in a house that She has built.  Woman Wisdom crosses boundaries and domains and thereby unites all of life, both public and private, economic, social, and governmental to an order which is relational and holistic.
          In contrast to much of the Bible, which emphasizes an order that has humankind dominating and overseeing creation, Woman Wisdom emphasizes play, delight, and love into the ordering process of creation.  And, as theologian Claudia Camp writes, “no oppressive order . . .is secure where children play, lovers meet, and life comes forth.’[1]
          We have seen this, haven’t we?  We have enough life experience that when someone comes at us with rules and regulations and structure, we know the truth lies somewhere outside of their tightly knit box.
          Indeed, Woman Wisdom cannot be ordered or boxed, contained or domesticated.  She is a direction in relationship, an invitation to nurture and sustenance, a life’s journey to a distant horizon.  It may be too simplistic to say that this is just a female or Divine Feminine way of knowing as opposed to a male or Divine Male way of knowing.  If all the male archetypes and men becoming real is still about having power over instead of power with and under, it seems we have all lost something in the Christian narrative.
          Feminist theologian, Carol P Christ writes,

New research suggests that in matriarchies, there is no divine masculine per se, because though men have their own important roles, both males and females are encouraged to embody the values associated with mothers and mothering—in other words to be loving, giving, caring, and generous. In this context there is no opposition or sharp contrast between the divine masculine, the divine feminine, and any other divine gender or transgender.
I believe that that we need a multiplicity of images for divine power that express the diversity and differences of our bodies and all bodies in the web of life. We also need new images of how to be strong and powerful, yet loving and caring above all, in male, female, and other bodies.[2]
          Jesus borrowed heavily on the Jewish wisdom tradition for his teaching.  In an age of structure to maintain order, Jesus introduces paradox and parable, double edges and boundary crossings that fully advocate for power from below and power with.  Christ ends up being that life’s journey to the distant horizon. 
          You will hear me consistently talk and act as if God is present with us, but I also know that we need to regain that understanding of a God who is transcendent, lies beyond ours or anyone’s ability to fully comprehend or understand.  We would know that none of the answers are certain and could not be fully convinced that any one of us alone can see the path God has prepared for us.  Then, in humility and hope, we could point to and journey toward that distant horizon together in play, delight, and love. 
          Sometimes I think Christianity appears to outsiders as a set of strict rules we are to follow rather than a life of play, delight, and love, a way of defining power as we stand with each other.  Instead of demanding a static God from on high bless us, maybe the outside world would see us different if we began talking about a God who crosses boundaries in compassion and refuses to be put into a box—a God who stands with and yet leads out . . . and invites to a place beyond us.
          Ruby Schroeder, my Christian Education professor at Eden Theological Seminary, required that all seminarians spend a day observing the local preschool housed by the seminary.  I knew nothing much about the preschool other than I enjoyed having preschoolers on campus.  During my morning observing the preschool, I remember receiving one of life’s great lessons. 
          Preschool teachers shared a change they had made in moving children from one classroom to another.  The teachers explained that the old model used to be a teacher behind the kids speaking above the din of the children’s voices and toys to get them to move to the adjoining, still dark classroom. 
The new model was for a teacher to go ahead of the children, cross over into the new, adjoining classroom, and turn the light on in the adjoining classroom.   Without moving from the lit room the teacher would then invite the children into the new classroom.  Meanwhile, another teacher silently turned off the light in the old classroom.
The old model asked the children to walk into a dark classroom with someone pushing them from behind.  The new model invited the children into a lit classroom with a teacher who already stood in the new classroom. 
I believe that is a beautiful metaphor for the way God calls us.  God crosses before us into the unlit room.  Like the benevolent and hospitable Wisdom, I believe it is God who calls out and invites us, while standing in that lit room.  God waits in the lit room.  The banquet has been prepared, the table is set, and now God calls out from the marketplace, the streets, the city gates, the walls, and the lit room.
In play, delight, and love, God is on the move.  As it says about the God who traveled in a tent with the Hebrew people, God does not need a “staying-in” place for God is always “going about.”[3]
So even though there may have been a shaft of light when I preached for the search committee at Bozeman, it did not stay there long.  God was moving on.  What the search committee will tell you is that even though they liked my sermon, they were a little afraid of how the congregation in Bozeman might have received my words were received that day.  And they had to meet to decide whether you all were ready for me.  I’ll admit that to feel like you preached from your heart and soul and then have a search committee wonder about that, scared me a little.  Was God inviting me out of my box?
I do believe that as well share our hopes and dreams together for what the Billings First Church shall be far out into the future, as we continue to fashion ourselves as a place of play, delight, and love, I think, I believe that God is indeed calling us from the lit room, the distant horizon.  When we recognize, as wisdom literature teaches, that we do not have to control God to receive God’s blessing . . . that, in fact, God’s blessing is forever offered to us from the lit room beyond us, we can move and walk with God.  May we have the courage to move and walk into that lit room together.  And then, may we share in the delight, love, and hospitality of God by holding out our hands, from the lit room, to others.  Amen.



[1] Claudia V. Camp, “Woman Wisdom as Root Metaphor:  A Theological Consideration,”  The Listening Heart:  Essays in Wisdom and the Psalms in Honor of Roland E. Murphy, ed. by J. Hoglund, K. Huwiler, E. Glass.  (Sheffield:  JSOT Press, 1987), pp. 45, 55,61.
[2] Carol P. Christ, “What if Divine Feminine and Divine Masculine are not Oppositional Categories?,” Feminism and Religion, May 18, 2015, http://feminismandreligion.com/2015/05/18/what-if-divine-feminine-and-divine-masculine-are-not-oppositional-categories-by-carol-p-christ/, looking at research from Societies of Peace by Heide Goettner-Abendroth.  In Goettner-Abendroth’s research she finds that matriarchies were not about “mother-rule” but about embodying the values of “mothering”—care, generosity, and nurturing.  Men are not dominated.  This confirms much of the work done by Rianne Eisler who wrote the seminal work, The Chalice and The Blade.  When I attended the World’s Parliament of Religions in Chicago several years ago, Eisler’s workshop was packed.  It should say something about the hunger there is for a different mythology.
[3] Trans. by Everett Fox, Give Us a King!:  Samuel, Saul, and David:  A New Translation of Samuel 1 and Samuel II.  (New York:  Schocken Books, 1999), pp. 178-179.

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