One Year Later - Epiphany & Insurrection

Today is Epiphany, following the 12 days of Christmas, when we traditionally celebrate the magi reaching the Christ child, offering their gifts, falling down in worship, and heading home by a different road. 

Epiphany – the manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles as represented by the Magi (Matthew 2:1-12) ALSO a moment of sudden revelation or insight. From the Greek epiphainein, which means “to reveal”

A lot has been revealed recently. COVID-19 has stripped some things away and accelerated other things. But today, I’m thinking of something in particular that was revealed on January 6, 2021.

It was revealed to me that many of my fellow American citizens are deeply angry and distrustful of the foundation of our country to the point that they broke into the Capitol building in a wave of human bodies, causing death and destruction as they called into question the peaceful transfer of power that is a cornerstone of our democracy.

I am a Christian and ordained clergy. I’ve spent a lot of time preaching and teaching that our first allegiance is to God, above and beyond any citizenship we hold earthside. I truly believe that when I live by the law of love I see in the life of Christ, all other things fall into place.

And also, I am an American. That was my birthright and privilege even before I was a Christian. I was raised singing Yankee Doodle and Proud to be an American and the Star-Spangled Banner. I memorized the pledge of allegiance before I knew the Lord’s prayer. When I’ve traveled abroad, other folks have recognized by citizenship without my passport as soon as I open my mouth.

And I love our country. I love it the same way I love myself most days – for all that it is and all that it might yet be. I’ve never felt myself to be perfect, but I’m earnestly struggling to be better than I was yesterday. I understand the United States of America to be a most exquisite, daring experiment – can the values of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness be enough to hold us all together? Can the founding document of our Constitution provide enough of a foundation that we citizens who come from every corner of the globe, who carry different languages and religions and traditions and traumas can build a society that not only survives, but thrives?

I heard God’s call on my life as my heart broke for our brave military members who were deployed into desperate situations after 9/11 because I knew some of them as high school and college classmates. I signed up with the Air Force recruiter and eventually swore that I would “support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the office upon which I am about to enter. So help me God.”

I don’t know that any thing is perfect in this life except for God. So I hold the Constitution like I hold the Bible. It’s good, really good, but it’s also has human fingerprints all over it. Humans that were inevitably influenced by their context. In the same way that I wear mixed fiber clothing, eat shrimp and strawberries, and am ordained as a woman, I’m glad that Constitutional rights and liberties have been extended over time to include women and people of color. Like Dr. Maya Angelou said, “Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.” 

In the same way, I hold our national Capitol like I hold my church building. It may not have power, in and of itself, but its structure and its symbolism, the history and legacy that infuses every space points to something bigger, grander, and more meaningful than itself. The Capitol is the temple of our American democracy and last year’s acts felt like desecration.

Insurrection – a violent uprising against an authority or government. From late Middle English: via Old French from late Latin insurrectio(n- ), from insurgere ‘rise up.’

My fellow Americans rose up against our democratically elected government. And I understand up to a point – I don’t feel particularly seen, heard, or respected by my elected officials on a national level most of the time. There have been seasons when I’ve called and written my congressional representatives regularly, but Ted and John have never responded.

I’ve learned that the most effective arena where I can see change is my local government because the issues as well as the decision makers are closer. We are neighbors. We might know each other beyond the politics of the moment and want to do what might be a compromise so that we can all move forward in some way together. At the national level, the electorate becomes so much bigger, more diverse, and for most elected folks, this is their career. They become more interested in the optics and the spin than in policy and honesty, because those things could end their career and then what? But our government at every level is just us, citizens who offer themselves in service to our country.

So, on one level, I absolutely understand the frustration when those folks who are supposed to represent me, don’t see me, hear me, or respect me. I also know that as much as they are there on my behalf, they are serving on our behalf and there are lots of nearby neighbors, not to mention national ones, who fervently disagree with me on the values and strategies that should define America.

That’s the challenge and the opportunity of how we are built. And for 245 years it has worked. I am grateful to live in a nation that is founded on this premise, that “We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.”

Union - the action or fact of joining or being joined, especially in a political context; a state of harmony or agreement. From late Middle English: from Old French, or from ecclesiastical Latin unio(n- ) ‘unity’, from Latin unus ‘one’. 

I believe in free, open, and fair elections and I believe in perfecting the processes so that every citizen gets to exercise their right to vote. I believe in the processes that examine elections after the fact to look for errors, tampering, or undue influence. I believe the same election procedures that gave us Ronald Reagan and Bill Clinton gave us Donald Trump and Joe Biden. 

We often say we will never forget, whether it’s the Alamo or D-Day or 9/11. There is something powerful in what we remember, and what we forget. It speaks to our values and priorities. So I will never forget January 6, 2021. 

I pray for my fellow Americans. We have been and are being manipulated to distrust one another when one another is really all we have. We are our essential services. We are our supply chain. We are our government. We are in this together - this life, this nation, this opportunity to love and serve one another. Let us have a new epiphany - recognizing our common humanity, offering our gifts, and recreating home in a new way.

Invited in...

The other day, I saw a church Facebook post with a list of their upcoming events and worship services for the season of Advent – you know, the month-ish leading up to Christmas. The first two words of their post caught my eye and my heart:

Come home.

This church is a new start in the middle of suburban north Texas. Yes, most folks around here have probably been to a church at one point or another, may have even joined and had their name and contact information entered into a database, may have gotten pledge cards and small group information – but here is my question:

Can a church be our home?

Here is a list of things I associate with “home” 

• I can be myself there – no makeup, pajamas, may or may not have bathed that day, may or may not use a bit of profanity with the kids aren’t around
• I know where things are there – the water cups, the paper towels, the food, the comfortable places to sit, the bathrooms (and the extra toilet paper)
• The people who live there love me…and I love them. We get on each other’s nerves from time to time, but under all the normal rub of daily life, we love each other deeply.
• The people there know my story and I know theirs. We are constantly writing our stories together.

My husband and I have moved 8 times in our 15 years of marriage, so the physical space has become less and less important as long as our “home” can house all the things we need to make “home” together. We’ve added and subtracted bedrooms, given away furniture that no longer had a place, officed behind doors or in open spaces, cooked food in narrow galleys or wide open places with plenty of countertops.

But within whatever walls make our house, we make home there together. And I’m wondering how church can do the same. A few years ago, a church leader spoke of the difference it makes in a person’s life when they have “home” – a physical home, a medical home, and – yes – a faith home. When we put down roots and invest ourselves to the point of considering a place a home, we are healthier and more whole.

I know lots of folks who have a home where they lay their weary bodies down. And I know others who find a common home in coffee shops and bars, where the folks there know their names. I pray that we make our faith places homes – for ourselves and for others.

One of the new ways of being church and community that I love is Union Coffee. Recently I attended their State of the Union and 5^th birthday party as they shared stories, songs, cookies, and the news that they will soon be closing the doors on this location as they look toward two new places that will become home. One song they sing as a part of worship regularly speaks to this idea of home:

     Hold on, to me as we go
     As we roll down this unfamiliar road

     And although this wave is stringing us along
     Just know you’re not alone
     'Cause I’m going to make this place your home

     Settle down, it'll all be clear
     Don't pay no mind to the demons
     They fill you with fear
     The trouble it might drag you down
     If you get lost, you can always be found

     Just know you’re not alone
     'Cause I’m going to make this place your home

                                         - Phillip Phillips, “Home”

Dear ones, where do you find your home? 

What does it take for a place to feel like home for you?

Angels and Mothers-in-Law

This past week at the Krum Church, we dove into Mark’s gospel to hear about our kingdom work. We’re in the middle of a series, moving from water to glory.

A few weeks ago, we talked about our baptisms as we remembered Jesus’ baptism. In baptism, we are adopted by God and put on a new family name – Christian. And when we become a part of the family, it’s time to take on the family business.

Last week, our reading started at Mark 1:21, but already in this gospel we've met John the Baptist, witnessed Jesus' baptism and the voice from heaven, seen God's Spirit driving Jesus into the wilderness to encounter and resist Satan, then Jesus’ return to announce the presence of the kingdom of God and calls hearers to repentance before calling Simon, Andrew, James and John to fish for people. Mark’s gospel is a fast-paced adventure story, characterized by phrases like “just then,” “immediately” and “at once.”

The text we studied focused on Jesus’ teaching in a synagogue and exorcism of an unclean spirit – both offering windows into his authority.

Authority – now there’s a concept I often struggle with. Usually authority means someone’s authority over me and the necessity of my obedience and submission. Not my favorites. But as I've struggled with these ideas in the course of my discipleship, a hymn came to my aid – “As the Deer,” whose opening lyrics are based on Psalm 42.

As the deer longs for the water, / so my soul longs after you. / You alone are my heart's desire / and I long to worship you. (Refrain) You alone are my strength, my shield / To you alone will my spirit yield. / You alone are my heart’s desire / and I long to worship you 

Hearing this song, sung by a youth choir many years ago, was like a key in the lock for me when it comes to authority. To GOD alone will my spirit yield. It was entirely freeing. I don’t have to bow down to worldly powers or consent to abuse by a partner. I don’t have to be satisfied with making 70 cents on the dollar or concede my unique gifts because of any classification under the sun. I don’t have to be content with the world and its exercise of authority.

I yield to God. That’s what I’m called to as a Christian in the world. It means I might be going against the grain sometimes. Really, if I’m not swimming upstream in this broken, hurting world, I’m failing to follow my savior.

I don’t have to worry about God abusing God’s authority over me the way I might worry about worldly powers. While corporations, countries, and citizens destroy the earth and degrade the image of God in each person, God is all about the liberation and redemption business. I can give myself wholly over to God’s authority, because God loves each of us so much, myself included, that God gives love and sacrifices God’s own self.

In a worldly sense, Jesus didn't have any power. He wasn't a king with political or military power. He wasn't a priest, who had the power in Roman Judea. He wasn't even a scribe with the authority of Jewish tradition. The only authority he had was the supreme confidence that what he did and said was God's will and God's truth. He lived into God’s kingdom, bringing a glimpse of life as it will be.

In a world plagued by powers that try to enslave us, Jesus breaks through. We are rescued from evil, injustice, and oppression by the authority of the crucified and risen Christ. When we put ourselves under the Lordship of Jesus Christ, we become agents who break the bonds that enslave our brothers and sisters.

So what does that have to do with angels and mothers-in-law? I’m sure not all of you are blessed with a wonderful mother-in-law like mine. I've heard enough grumbling and joking to know that.

But this Sunday we’ll take another look at Mark’s gospel, picking up in chapter one where we left off last week. Immediately after he rebukes an unclean spirit in the synagogue, Jesus goes to Simon Peter’s house, where his mother-in-law is in bed with a fever. Jesus heals her and she responds in one of the biggest surprises in the whole gospel.

Spirit-Filled

Not that long ago I was just beginning to attend church. I had come to be a Christian through a Wesley Foundation, a United Methodist campus ministry. So while I was familiar with praise music, loved communion, and was growing in faith through Bible study and relationships with other college students as well as the campus pastor, I had no idea about the church year.

I went to worship one Sunday to hear our pastor encourage us to wear red the next week to help celebrate the church’s birthday. I assumed it might be something special in this particular church, but I was in! I had nothing red, so that week I went shopping, found something that was reasonably priced, and looked forward to wearing it on Sunday.

That next Sunday was Pentecost. And while there were a lot of folks wearing red in the room, it wasn’t like any birthday party I was expecting. Instead, we heard the scripture story that is often pointed to as the origin of the church – Acts 2:1-17. The disciples, who had just witnessed Jesus ascend into heaven, were told before he went that they needed to wait.

They’re all gathered in one place, when suddenly there is an overwhelming sound like a violent wind and tongues that looked like fire, came to rest on each of them. They were filled with the Holy Spirit and could speak in other languages so that they could witness to the good news of Jesus Christ to all people.

Some people were amazed and in awe. Others assumed the worst – that these no-good followers of that radical rabbi were drunk. But Peter, always willing to step out ahead and called to be the rock of the new church, stood up to offer his witness to all. This was not drunkenness! This was the fulfillment of prophecy – “In the last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams” (Acts 2:17).

One thing I learned about the church year is that it repeats, starting over in Advent. This helps us follow the life of Christ through birth, ministry, death, and resurrection, imprinting upon us the pattern of the “pioneer and perfecter of our faith” (Hebrews 12:2).

Come Sunday, it will again be time to celebrate the birth-day of the church, the pouring out of God’s Spirit upon God’s people, as we hear the Pentecost story. At the Krum Church, we’ll conclude these Great Fifty Days of Easter by affirming that Easter People are Spirit-Filled.

That pastor in the church I attended as a new disciple of Jesus asked us to wear red to remind us of the fiery nature of the Holy Spirit. The Spirit moves as it will, bringing forth new life, advocating for us and all creation, and praying for us when our words fail.

In the ancient near east, the writer of Acts tried to capture the nature of the Spirit with powerful metaphors like “strong wind, gale force” or a “wildfire” as Eugene Peterson renders it in his modern translation, The Message. I wonder if we tried to describe the Holy Spirit in our post-modern words what we would say.

Is the Holy Spirit like electricity, powering and illuminating our lives? Such a constant that we have no idea how we would do life without it? Or is the Holy Spirit more like the internet, connecting and informing us across all boundaries that were formerly considered insurmountable?

Of course, no language is ever adequate to capture the essence of God, but we are called to use words in our witness, as Peter does. When we use these metaphors, when we try to understand the nature of God with our finite minds, it’s like trying to capture the spirit of the sea in a Dixie cup. It’s true, as far as it goes, but it’s not the whole truth. But putting these glimpses together help us know God better.

God wants us to know him because that’s part of being in a relationship. Paul writes, “Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known” (1 Corinthians 13:12). So don’t underestimate the longing God has for you and your capacity to grow in love and understanding. I pray God pours out the Spirit upon us all so that we can be good news to the world!

A Good Conspiracy

A few weeks ago, I attended one of my husband’s doctoral recitals at UNT. He is a saxophonist and, for one piece, he played with a quintet of other woodwinds. What struck me most powerfully, besides its beauty, was the fact that there was no director. Just six individuals, keeping an eye and an ear toward each other as they made music.

This was a good conspiracy. The less common definition of “conspire” is “to act in harmony toward a common end” (see merriam-webster.com). It comes from the from the Latin “conspirare,” from the root parts “con,” which means together, and “spirareto,” which means breathe. Originally, to conspire was simply to breathe together.

I know, my English degree is showing as we explore these word roots, but language is important. That’s why we spend so much time in the words of Scripture. Words have power. “For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return there until they have watered the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and succeed in the thing for which I sent it” (Isaiah 55:10-11).

 

God’s word goes out and does not return empty. In Hebrew, the word for wind/breath/spirit is “ruah.” Usually, you can’t see your breath. It’s intangible; you can’t grab it. When all is well, we don’t think about it too much. But the ancient measure between a living person and a dead person was breath – one had it and the other did not. 

In that recital, the musicians were conspiring. They were literally breathing together as they brought forth something more wondrous than any of them could have alone. I could see it in the movement of their shoulders and hear it in the rippling waves of sound that came from their instruments. And most magnificently of all, even as they breathed together, they listened to one another, balancing the volume of each part so that no one was dominant or out of accord.

There are so many lessons we can learn from the arts. It’s powerful to breathe with our fellow creatures and with our Creator. When I breathe with others, when I get down to the basic things that make us human – like wanting the best for our kids, longing to feel safe and secure, needing enough food each day – I am able to have compassion. I am able to see deeper than the picky, pesky things that separate us and see them as my brother or sister, struggling just as much as I do just to breathe sometimes.

When we breathe with our Creator, when we allow our spirit to be one with the Holy Spirit, who knows what we might do?! We become comforted such that we can offer comfort. We are set on fire for God, our souls restless for justice and righteousness. We are empowered to be change agents in a broken world desperately in need of good news that transforms.

This Sunday at the Krum Church, we’ll affirm that Easter people witness. It’s a word that’s gotten a bad reputation, as we might recall a street preacher with a bullhorn, condemning people to hell without even knowing their names. Or the awkward teenager handing out sinner’s prayer pamphlets which promise to bring eternal life without relationship.

Being a witness is our Christian calling and I encourage those of us who are shy about it, because we’ve seen it done poorly or hurtfully, to reclaim it! Being a witness is simply about being someone who has seen something happen and is willing to tell about it. I pray that you have seen the word of God work in your life. That is something to talk about!

One of our gospels states, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people” (John 1:1-4). May the life that comes through Jesus Christ –abundant, overflowing, grace-filled – come into being in us. And may we have the courage to tell someone!

Jesus Christ and His Reign

This Sunday, our church will make one final affirmation as we conclude our series on what we believe. We believe in Jesus Christ and his reign! It’s a shocking, countercultural statement to make, although most of us have lost touch with that.

But look at some of the story from Scripture – an embarrassing teenage pregnancy, a poor peasant couple forced to flee as refugees to Egypt after the birth of their baby, and King Herod’s slaughter of Jewish baby boys in a unsuccessful attempt to put an end to this new King. It doesn’t sound like a royal story. But this is the story of Jesus – a Messiah who goes to the poor and marginalized over the rich and powerful, a Savior who is rejected by the very people he is there to save, and a King who reigns from a bloody cross.

If we call ourselves Christians, this is the story we hold as true, and not just true, but the definitive bedrock of our life stories. At least, that’s what we say.

When I was in the ordination process in The United Methodist Church, which is a long and challenging journey, one of the questions I had to answer for the Board of Ordained Ministry was this, “How do you interpret the statement Jesus Christ is Lord?”

It takes going back to a governing system much different from our own to put understanding to this statement and yet it is the foundational affirmation of faith in the New Testament. Paul goes so far as to say that “no one can say ‘Jesus is Lord’ except by the Holy Spirit” (1 Corinthians 12:3).

In the governing system of the ancient near east, where Jesus was born and lived, there were those in power, like governors and kings, and they were often addressed as “Lord.” To call a poor, homeless, rebellious rabbi “Lord” was to pledge allegiance to a very different system than the one the world could see and touch. It was to risk your life as a citizen of the kingdom of God, rather than a subject under rule by Caesar.

A great way to get rid of Jesus is to make him out as a distant spiritual possibility, like a great historical figure or a warm, fuzzy feeling you get when singing your favorite praise song. But when you recognize Jesus as the Lord of your life, when you allow him to take up room, stake a claim on you, and take charge, it changes the dynamic. No longer is God a convenient genie, stashed in a pocket until we need to make a wish, what often may pass for prayer. Instead, Christ takes the lead in your life, reorganizing priorities and changing things so that you are living as a citizen of the kingdom of God, no matter what your earthly papers may say.

When we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ this Sunday, we affirm that God is triumphant! God has the final say. Christ is victorious over death, such that we need not fear even the grave.

It’s a difficult reality to live out every day. On Sunday we confess Jesus is our Lord, but what happens on Monday? There’s a simple way to figure out where our allegiances really live – take a look at your calendar and your check book. Where do you spend your time and money? That’s where you’ll find your heart, “for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21; Luke 12:34).

So as we look forward to Easter Sunday, considering giving your Lord and King more than your words, more than an occasional Sunday morning presence, more than a logical assent to the idea that there is God. Give Jesus your whole self, your full commitment, and unswerving loyalty.

I’m looking forward to receiving our confirmands, those youth who have spent several months in fellowship and learning, into the kingdom. Through our ritual, they’ll renounce the spiritual forces of wickedness, reject the evil powers of this world, and repent of their sin. They’ll accept the freedom and power God gives them to resist evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves. They’ll confess Jesus Christ as their Savior and promise to serve him as their Lord, in union with the church which Christ has opened to people of all ages, nations, and races.

They’ll be taking a bold step into the kingdom of God. I pray we all have the courage to follow!