Last Day!

As my brother pointed out this morning, the appropriate emotion for today in Holy Week is perplexity (or aporia) -- being at a loss. Remembering how bewildered and lost the disciples must have felt after Jesus died.

We had a very beautiful Easter Vigil service this evening; a first for our congregation that grew out of our Sunday evening Vespers, newly begun this fall. Vespers was on Saturday instead of Sunday this week, and we drew on a traditional Vigil liturgy, but it still had much of the feel of our Vespers service. About midway through the service, the light was brought into the church; all the lights were turned up and candles lighted, and we moved from sorrow into joy.

Happy Easter!

PS - Since this is the end of Lent, it also marks the end of my Lenten blogging -- for this year, at least. Perhaps I will pick it up again next Ash Wednesday. It has been a very useful discipline, and I think it has made sermon writing a little easier, either because I'm just writing more or because focusing on "the spiritual aspects of life" daily and developing certain ideas a bit means I have a head start on potential items for sermons. Meanwhile, I'll probably do better about posting to my other blog.

Thanks for reading!

Good Friday

I love Good Friday. I'm a bit sad that I didn't make it to church this year, but the day was too full of caring for baby, etc. One of my favorite college professors said that Good Friday takes seriously the terrible cost in this world for justice to be achieved.

Perhaps by way of observance, Tim and I went over to see The Big Sellout at our friends' apartment. It's a great film about the terrible effects of corporate globalization and privatization on people's lives -- AND the ways those people are fighting back. From a mother trying to get medicine and dialysis treatment for her son in the Philippines, to the Soweto Electricity Crisis Committee reconnecting people's power when the company shuts it off, to a union leader train driver in England, to the popular uprising over privatization of water (by Bechtel, no less) in Cochabamba, Bolivia, they were stories that were inspiring as well as troubling.

Maundy Thursday

I've been trying to keep my heart in tune with Holy Week, with mixed success. It's hard to know how to feel on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. So I'm excited that we are finally here at Maundy Thursday, remembering the last meal Jesus shared with his disciples, the way he washed their feet and gave them a new commandment: to love one another as he had loved them.

Maundy Thursday is named for that new commandment (mandatum in Latin, mande/ in French), and the more I think about it, the harder it seems to do. It seems to require even more than "Love your neighbor as yourself." Because I think Jesus was better at loving people than most (all?) of us are at loving ourselves.

Last year was my first Holy Week at Cleveland Park Church, and one of my favorite parts (I have lots of favorites...) was the service that we will have again tonight, which begins with communion and then goes into Tenebrae, the service of shadows that remember the events around Jesus' arrest, and end with "then they led him away to crucify him." The service ends in silence, and it is a powerful lead-in to Good Friday.

The tongue (and ear) of a teacher

I was reading today's lectionary readings, trolling for inspiration, and I was struck by the first verse of the first reading: "The Lord GOD has given me the tongue of a teacher, that I may know how to sustain the weary with a word. Morning by morning he wakens-- wakens my ear to listen as those who are taught. (Isaiah 50:4)"

It seems to me that having your ear awakened to "listen as those who are taught" is an amazing gift for teachers or preachers, or anyone who hopes that people will listen to them... and I think the best teachers and preachers possess this gift. I think it's the challenge for me and the other people involved in teaching Sunday School to kids; how do we put on the "ears" of elementary school students (1st grade is very different than 5th grade, and the individuals vary greatly as well)?

Knowing, or imagining, how someone will hear your words is an important step in deciding what to say -- it's also a way of being gracious.

compassion and solidarity

Back at the beginning of Lent, I thought I should write about my take on Christian ethics. So, briefly, here goes:

It seems to me that at the heart of thinking about what we should do, are two core values: compassion and solidarity.

Compassion is a sort of prerequisite for the Golden Rule (do unto others as you would have them do unto you); you have to imagine yourself in someone else's situation before you can imagine what you would want if you were in their situation. That's part of loving your neighbor as yourself, and compassion is certainly something that Jesus modeled in life (and perhaps even in death).

Solidarity is another piece of loving the neighbor as the self. Compassion could stop short of action (although I do think that often it does compel us to action). But solidarity requires us to act in the best interests of the other... and, I think, to let them define what that means. Of course, "compassion fatigue" (I think people were talking about this after Katrina) is a problem. We have too much information connected to too small a sense of agency, and the world's problems sure do get overwhelming. I think "solidarity fatigue" might be a problem as well.

Dr. Wright

With all the flack Obama has been getting about his association with the Rev. Dr. Jeremiah Wright, it's about time someone presented an image of him as something other than the mirror-image of a white supremacist. Finally, the Post has an article about how the members of Trinity UCC view their pastor (who recently retired) *very* differently than the media soundbites have portrayed him. Not that I would expect Black liberation theology to play well in a U.S. presidential election.

Donkeys

As I've been working on my sermon for tomorrow, I recalled that last year for Palm Sunday, I chose my title, "A Royal Entrance (Riding on a Donkey)" before I started my in-depth work with the text. I really had read through it already (I swear!), but because the story is so familiar, the details from the different accounts meld together in my perception, I failed to notice that in the story in Luke, which I was preaching on, Jesus rides "a colt," not a donkey.

This year, the text is from Matthew, where it does specify that Jesus rides a donkey, but actually goes further to specify that he rode a donkey *and* its colt, which is Matthew going out of his way to make clear that Jesus' entrance fulfills the prophecy in Zechariah about the restoration of Jerusalem by a ruler who brings peace to the nations.

I haven't figured out a way to work this into my sermon, but all this thinking about donkeys reminded me of a very nice scene about acceptance from Shrek, which is burned into my brain because Grace (my now 3 year old niece) was obsessed with Shrek when we lived with her, and at one point the DVD malfunctioned and would replay this one scene over and over... where Shrek (the ogre) is trying to get rid of Donkey, who really wants to be his friend. And it becomes clear that Shrek assumes he can't have friends because he's an ogre, and everyone hates and fears ogres, but Donkey for some reason doesn't know he's supposed to hate and fear ogres... and it's a beautiful moment, although I appreciate it much more now that it's been over 6 months since the time I had to watch it over and over and over trying to fix the DVD.

More questions than answers

So, I'm super late with my blog post tonight... hence it will be brief.

One of the ideas I encounter surprisingly often, that is in my view a misconception, is the idea that people of faith either have or think they have "all the answers." I suppose there are some people who think they do, but I get the distinct impression that most people don't feel thttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gifhat they have all the answers. But I do think that people who see themselves as outsiders to religion perceive people of faith as having more answers. I also think that people of faith sometimes think having more answers would make them more faithful. That's more than enough conjecture about what other people think.

I think that faith gives us more questions than answers, and can and should help us ask better questions... but doesn't always give us clear answers. And exploring questions about the deep, meaningful things in life often leads to more questions. My view on this is very consistent with my tradition, the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), which puts a high value on individual conscience theological diversity. Arriving at the same answers is not an indicator of faithfulness.

My faith does ground me, and reassure me, and challenge me to be a better person. It also keeps me asking the big trifecta of questions: How can I love God? How can I love my neighbor? How can I love myself?

Spring (again)

I know I posted a while ago about how perfect it is that Easter comes in springtime... but I was struck again today by how much my spirits are lifted by the warmer, sunnier weather. It's so easy for me to spend lots of time indoors and never get outside. I think being indoors (or in a car) too much disconnects us, not only from nature, but from an important part of ourselves.

This is a thoroughly modern problem; we have so much "inside" space (and so many forms of entertainment and channels of communication there). And I'll freely admit it doesn't quite feel so rejuvenating to be outdoors in nasty weather. But I think our connection to the earth and its seasons is essential to being human.

Embarrassed ...

... by a fellow white person! This is something that happens to me from time to time. Or perhaps it's more accurate to say I was embarassed for this person.

A friend and I attended a worship service on Friday that was part of the Interfaith Peace Witness weekend. It was held at Lincoln Temple UCC, which (I learned) is the oldest African-American Congregational church in DC. It was interesting, because the congregation gathered was almost exclusively white, but the piano player/ songleader, host pastor, and guest preacher were all African-American. So, the singing was less than impressive. But that was not the embarrassing part.

When the host pastor came to the pulpit to greet the congregation, he greeted us by saying "God is good," to which a few people scattered throughout (me being one of them) responded "All the time!" And then, he said "All the time..." to which a slightly larger number of people responded "God is good!" At the passing of the peace, the white person seated in front of me, who was wearing a clerical collar, asked "Do you go to this church?" I responded "No," and decided to leave it at that, but I probably looked puzzled, because this person then said, "because you seemed to know that litany the pastor was saying at the beginning." I was too shocked to take the time to educate that person about the prevalence of this greeting in Black churches.

Not that I have any reason to expect everyone to know that... it was just very odd that this person assumed it was a local tradition.

Palms or Passion?

As I'm beginning to think about my sermon for Sunday, I am confronted again this year with the liturgical tension between Palm Sunday and Passion Sunday (two options, if you will, for the sixth Sunday of Lent).

My mother told me several years ago that she felt that Palm Sunday had been getting short shrift of late in churches, perhaps in her congregation in particular, begin edged out by Passion Sunday. They create very different feelings -- either the jubilation of Palm Sunday, shouting Hosanna, or the somber, sorrowful tone of the Passion. My mom said she figured preachers were trying to make sure the congregation experienced the passion story, and found that most people weren't coming to church during the week for Maundy Thursday and Good Friday.

I'm pretty sure my mother thought that people should come to church during Holy Week. You can't really "get" Easter without going through Good Friday. I love going through Holy Week, but I also know that not everyone is going to come to our Tenebrae service Thursday evening -- even though it's powerful and moving, many people just don't have the time. So, my dilemma is, how do we experience both in the course of one worship service, without doing disservice to either? Is that an impossible task?

The Root of All Evil...

... according to Scripture, anyway, is the love of money. That's the verse that came to my head as I was reading this article in the Washington Post. I think it's Thomas Aquinas who talks about sin coming from loving other things more than God. It's not that loving money, or making money, is a bad thing -- it's that when it is valued so highly that you don't care about people having a place to live, that you get situations like this one.

Christ for President

The Washington Post's On Faith asked its panelists this week:

"If the historical Jesus were running for president, what kind of candidate would he be? Republican or Democrat? For or against the death penalty, the Iraq war, abortion, etc.?"

All of them, from Welton Gaddy (director of the Interfaith Alliance) to Deepak Chopra to Chuck Colson to Susan Thistlethwaite Brooks (feminist theologian) to Gardner C. Taylor to Thomas Bohlin (U.S. vicar of Opus Dei), said that wasn't a very good question. Most of the respondents couldn't imagine Jesus winning the nomination for either party. There are some predictable responses (paraphrasing Chuck Colson: "of course he would be against abortion"), and some provocative ones (Gardner C. Taylor: "I think He would also be assassinated, lynched, or if you prefer, crucified as before." Deepak Chopra's take is actually pretty funny.

So, if these "experts" all agree that Jesus would never be a candidate, and would have a platform very different from either party... am I wrong in thinking that there is a strong perception "out there" that Christian=conservative=Republican? I think that's why my friend's bumper sticker that says "Christian AND a Democrat" means something... but, the religious right worked hard to create this perception, and a lot of people (religious progressives, and, I think, others) have been working hard to demonstrate a more complicated relationship between religion and politics in the U.S. So, maybe that's having some effect.

The title of this post is the title of a Woody Guthrie song that Billy Brag & Wilco put to music on one of their Mermaid Avenue CDs. He had a pretty clear idea of what he thought Jesus' platform would be:

Let's have Christ for President.
Let us have him for our King.
Cast your vote for the Carpenter
that you call the Nazarene.

The only way we can ever beat
these crooked politician men
Is to run the money changers out of the temple
And put the Carpenter in

O It's Jesus Christ for president
God above our king
With a job and a pension for young and old
We will make hallelujah ring

Every year we waste enough
to feed the ones who starve
We build our civilization up
and we shoot it down with wars

But with the Carpenter on the seat
away up in the capital town
The USA would be on the way prosperity bound!

Cloud of Witnesses

I went to a dinner tonight to honor the moderator of our congregation from the past year, and welcome the new moderator to the position. The guests, other than the pastors and their spouses, were all former moderators (and spouses, although in at least one couple, both had been moderator).

It was great to hear stories of the history of the church, which went through some tough times over the decades. As stories were told, I felt that the cloud of witnesses grew beyond just those gathered there, to include people remembered fondly by many, some of whom have moved away, others who have passed on.

I was reminded of Hebrews 12:1, "Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely,* and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us." This remarkable gathering of faithful leaders throughout the congregation's past gives encouragement to the current leadership, both pastoral and lay, to move forward into the future God has in store for our congregation.

Priorities

So, I'm getting started on writing this post really late tonight. The reason is that Quinn is having trouble settling down to sleep this evening. One of the things that is sometimes frustrating, but at other times freeing, about taking care of a baby, is the immediacy of her needs. When she's crying, there's no question about which of the competing demands on my time I will be attending to. As someone recently put it, "If Baby ain't happy, ain't nobody happy."

So, she interrupts my life (our lives) a lot. But it's also a good reminder, because less important things can take up more time or attention simply by clamoring for it, or making it to the top of my to-do list. But the baby's needs are real and basic and must be met.

Attending to the spirit is also a real and basic need, but it's not nearly as loud (usually, anyway) as Quinn! That's why, I think, it's so much easier to focus spiritually in some kind of a setting (an intentional time or place or group of people) set aside for that purpose, with many of the competing demands cleared away. I cherish my retreats with the Bethany Fellows for that reason.

Also, however, at the same time that attending to my spirit might be considered another "task" or item on a to-do list that caring for Quinn takes time and energy from, and I certainly feel that the near-constant sleep deprivation makes both thinking and connecting more difficult, I also feel that caring for, feeding, comforting, cuddling, loving this little person, is feeding my spirit.

Parity in Insurance Coverage

The House passed a bill today requiring parity in coverage of mental health from insurance companies. It's one important step towards making our society more compassionate towards people with mental illness. Legislatively, it requires (some) insurance company to cover mental illness as they cover all other illnesses. This could be good news for a lot of people.

The church has an unfortunate history with mentally ill people, and I think that people of faith still struggle with how to love our neighbors with mental illness (and ourselves with mental illness). Even more difficult is knowing how a faith community can be supportive, both in working to overcome the stigma around mental illnesses, and in being supportive of those who live with them.

Timing

The past two days of warm weather in DC seem to have lifted everyone's spirits. It strikes me that it is so appropriate for Easter to be in springtime. The chorus from the Easter hymn "Now the Green Blade Riseth" is running through my head: "Love has come again/ like wheat that springeth green."

Renewal and hope are in the air at springtime. I've been told that the original reason for Easter's timing was competition with a "pagan" fertility festival (that's why the bunnies and eggs), and that festival is in fact the origin of the name of the holiday, but the timing seems appropriate to me. It's also linked historically to Passover, when the gospels record Jesus' death and resurrection taking place.

The most unfortunate timing, on the other hand, is for folks who abstain from dessert for Lent, which always overlaps Girl Scout cookie time!

It's official

Today I went down to the D.C. courthouse and got officially registered to be able to perform weddings in the District of Columbia. To do this, I had to affirm that I hold appropriate standing in a church body (in this case, the UCC), and be vouched for by another person with standing in that church body who was already officially registered in their database (Pastor Ken).

It's interesting to me how the rules about who may perform a wedding vary in different jurisdictions. In both Maryland and Chicago (where I've done 2 weddings each), you just list on the marriage license the church body in which you are ordained or hold standing. Same goes for Iowa. I look forward to learning the rules for Las Vegas and Berkeley, as I've recently been asked to do two weddings this summer.

All of these variations highlight what is for me the spiritual matter in the heart of the bureaucratic details. Church and state are at their least separated in marriage. As a minister performing a wedding, I am an official agent of the state (or district!) at the same time as I am a leader of worship. It's actually rather odd.

Should the church bless the action of the state in changing the legal status of two people? I'm not sure what my answer to that question is.

But I love doing weddings, getting to be a part of a couple's life at this pivotal moment of commitment, sharing and blessing their hopes and dreams of their common future. I enjoy the fact that people who don't go to church regularly very often want to get married in a church. It feels right to me, because I think that deeply human connection that leads people to want to get married is essentially spiritual. After all, God is love.

Social Justice in the School Cafeteria

Today's reflection will be brief; I'm taking a short break from working out my sermon for tomorrow.

But this article in the New York Times is an interesting and challenging snapshot of the struggle kids have to fit in when their families are struggling to make it.

In general, I think those a la carte foods tend to be pretty bad nutritionally, and the problem is only compounded by the way they serve as a marker of social status as well. Although, my memories of school lunches are that they were neither terribly appealing nor impressively good for you. Still, they do have some sort of nutritional standards, and the idea that there is such a stigma to free lunch that kids would rather go hungry, is disturbing.