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.

Water-washed & Spirit-born

A couple of Sundays ago at the Krum Church we did two fun things: 1) we celebrated Epiphany (when the 3 wise men, kings, or magi – whatever you want to call them – came to worship the Christ child) and 2) we started our new Sunday schedule with two worship services (11am and 5pm). I came home Sunday night intoxicated on a blend of joy, Holy Spirit, and exhaustion. It was magnificent.

Last week was no less exciting as we launched into our new series – “from Water to Glory.” As a liturgical, connectional church, we keep the Christian calendar. This means that last Sunday was the time we were called to remember the Baptism of the Lord. Jesus, who knew no sin, came to be baptized by his cousin, John, in the river Jordan. And in that moment, as he came up from the water, the Spirit appeared like a dove and the voice of God spoke, "You are my son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased" (Mark 1:11). 

In the sacrament of baptism, we are born anew by water and the Spirit (John 3:5). We are water-washed and Spirit-born, brought into a special covenant as God’s grace is poured out upon us.

As United Methodists, we understand God to be the one who acts in baptism. Yes, we show up, we profess our faith, we present our child, but ultimately baptism is something God does with, for, and to us. As such, we don’t baptize someone more than once, although we do take opportunities, like this Sunday, to remember our baptism and be thankful.

Because I believe that God speaks over each of us in our baptism and beyond, “You are my child, my beloved; with you I am well-pleased.” Of course we feel inadequate, we may try to quibble and say that those words only apply to Jesus. Most of those protests come from the place of shame, because we don’t feel like we deserve for God to feel that way about us. After all, unlike Jesus, we’re not perfect!

But hear this good news, brothers and sisters – God loves you and there’s nothing you can do about it. Whether or not you are ever baptized, God is just crazy about you, so much so that God will keep calling you and calling you and calling you, like a suitor who won’t take a hint. God wants a relationship with you!

Not because you did anything to deserve it. None of us deserve it. But simply because God made you for God’s self. You are God’s beloved child and God wants to be in your life like any good parent does.

As much as I get frustrated, tired, and otherwise less than good in my parenting relationship, it’s been a place of unsurpassed divine revelation for me. When I look at my boys, when I hold them in my arms, when I observe their wit, their curiosity, their humor – my heart swells with love. And if my little old heart, puny and human, can feel this depth of love, I can’t even begin to imagine what God feels for each of us. God’s love is an ocean compared to my water drop.

We make a covenant in our baptism and when we accept God’s grace that we will grow by faith toward perfection in love. Make sure you heard that correctly – perfection in love, not the world’s standards of perfection which are all warped and tangled up with fame, wealth, success, etc. God in Jesus Christ doesn’t promise those things. Being a follower of the crucified and risen One doesn’t come with a lot of guarantees of worldly comfort.

But being perfected in love is a different story. It means letting your heart grow, letting your love swell to encompass not just your family, your friends, your tribe. If you let God really get ahold of you, you find yourself loving strangers, enemies, those the world finds unlovely and unlovable. It’s an uncomfortable spot, because when you love others, really love them despite everything else about them save that they are God’s own child, you can’t treat them the same way anymore.

That’s the ground we’ll cover at the Krum Church these next few weeks. How do we grow from the waters of baptism to the glory of resurrection? We’ll look to the pioneer and perfecter of our faith as the trailblazer for our own journeys. May we have the grace to let God work in us!

Courage in Relationships

One of my favorite parts of the holidays is the way it brings together friends and family. I’m not great at sending birthday cards or having long phone conversations, so I appreciate cultural norms that bring us face to face. There’s nothing like really connecting with others when you share space.

I also love people-watching. When I was working on my undergraduate degree, I nearly got a minor in sociology – the academic way to say people-watching. And in seminary, I took family system classes – the theological, psychological way to say people-watching.

So I couldn’t help but watch during holiday get-togethers. I noticed how unkind one dear woman was to herself. When something would go awry, she would often preface her aside with “well, that was stupid…” or “I’m so stupid…” I was saddened that a mature, faithful woman would speak so harshly to herself. And you know that there was probably more going on internally.

I noticed the curious way we all fall back on old habits when we are around our family of origin – the family we grew up with. When we’re with our parents, we can’t help but become something like the children we once were, and sometimes that’s not very pretty. We follow long standing patterns of relating with siblings – teasing them about weight, lateness, etc. – no matter how old we are.

Recently I’ve been trying to read my Brene Brown book, The Gifts of Imperfection, again. I can race through novels in under a week, but I’ve been trying to read this book for over a year because it’s like rich fudge – I can only read a little bit before it’s too much. I have to set it down to reflect.

Brown says that the three gifts of imperfection are courage, compassion, and connection. The latter two I get and value already. But she points out that the three are inextricably linked together. So it took me a while to unpack what she had to say about courage. It rang a bell in my mind because “courage” was the word I chose to guide my journey in 2014.

According to Brown, courage is less about heroics and more about the original definition of the word, which meant to share your heart by telling your story. If you think about it, and how all of our stories are complex messes of sweet successes and utter failures, you’ll have a good idea of why this is the definition of courage.

Brown also happens to be a shame researcher and it was through her work that she came to discover these gifts. Because shame can’t stand courage. Shame thrives on secrecy, embarrassment, and fear. When we overcome shame by having the courage to share our story, connecting with another in authentic relationship and receiving compassion, shame is banished!

Watching the dear ones in my life these holidays, I wondered how much of our familiar ruts are based on shame and just how much courage it would take to intentionally speak the truth of our lives to one another. And how much stronger our bonds could ultimately be if we did.

We’re built to live in relationship, with each other and with God. It’s no coincidence that Jesus says, “For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them" (Matthew 18:20). It’s also not coincidental that this teaching comes right before the question of how many times we have to forgive one another. To be in relationship, we have to be ready and willing to exercise forgiveness muscles that may be weak from lack of use.

Another point Brown makes in her book that made me stop to reflect was about self-talk. If we are called to forgive our brothers and sisters, we are also called to forgive ourselves. And yet, think about your typical day. If you’re anything like me, you probably find yourself lacking in the mirror, on the scale, on the road, as a parent, and on and on. It’s easy for us to become our harshest critics.

But if we are to be loving and kind toward others, we have to start practicing that with ourselves. So, next time you find yourself slipping into the easy, unredeemed rut of speaking negatively toward yourself, remember the magnificent God who made you and have courage. You are a beloved child of God and nothing can change that. Praise be to God!

How do We Know?

When we come to faith in God, our response is to witness to God, to help others know the God we have come to know. And yet, God is so transcendent, so other and yet so near, that we can never wrap our minds completely around this mystery.

We often get stuck in post-Enlightenment thinking that lifts up analysis, descriptions, and theories as the best or only ways of knowing. It’s head knowledge.

But you know as well as I do that there are lots of other ways of knowing things, ways that come through our spirit, our gut, or our intuition. Limiting our ways of knowing to our heads downplays what we might learn in other ways.

We are minds, to be sure, but we’re also bodies. At this time of year, when we celebrate God’s incarnation, when God consented to life in a body, it’s worthwhile to see how our bodies might teach us.

Bodies have ways of knowing that are different from and yet intimately connected with the mind’s ways of knowing. Some neurobiologists hypothesize that we automatically, almost reflexively, confront an unknown stimulus with the question “What is it?” If we think of God as the ultimate first, we can understand our constant questioning, trying to understand “what is it?”

Even as our minds are constantly trying to know the world, the primary way we have to do this is through our bodies. While Enlightenment thinking would tell us that we can use “pure” reason, realistically we know that everything we consider with our minds passes through the filter of our bodies.

The ancient church had a saying for this - lex orandi, lex credenda – which just means that what the people do truly reflects what the people believe. If we say we believe in serving the poor, clothing the naked, and feeding the hungry, yet do nothing toward these beliefs, you can be pretty sure we don’t really believe those things.

One intentional way we teach ourselves through our bodies in through ritual. Theologian Theodore Jennings writes that “ritual action is a means by which its we discover who we are in the world and ‘how it is’ with the world.” Or, to put it more simply, the way we learn to do things is by doing them.

Sounds ridiculously simple, right? But consider learning to ride a bicycle. If I were to say to someone, “Here is a bicycle. There are two wheels, which are attached to a metal frame. The brakes stop the wheels by friction by either pads or discs and are controlled by levers on the handlebars, which you hold with your hands. To ride the bicycle, you sit on the seat and balance on the wheels. To move forward, place both feet on the pedals and push them around in circles.”

This is only one silly example of how many times people learn how to do things by doing them, rather than by explanation or instruction. Jennings goes on to say that “the performance of a ritual, teaches one not only how to conduct the ritual itself” but also how to behave “outside the ritual space – in the world epitomized by or founded or renewed in and through the ritual itself.”

To put it another way, just as a bicycle teaches us how to ride it, the bread and cup at the Lord’s Table teach us how to be fed and share with one another. In baptism, we gently, carefully use water to symbolically wash a body, knowing that there’s also a soul being renewed. It’s simple, but indescribably beautiful.

We can be transformed by the rituals we follow. The hope of all of our Christian rituals is that the way we are in worship – loving, kind, patient, attentive, joyful – might become the way we are in the world. In worship, we practice being a citizen of the Kingdom of God so that we can carry our passport into the world, re-presenting God to all we meet.

Christmas Eve is a rich time for ritual. When I was a child, we baked cookies and put the best ones out for Santa Claus with a big glass of milk. When I became a Christian, I added the ritual of worship – hearing the story of the Christ child in the manger, sharing communion, and lighting candles. If you want to know God, consider joining us at the Krum Church at 7pm. There’s always a place for you at God’s house!

the Grateful Life

When my husband and I first got married, we were rich in things and short on cash. We had plenty of clothes and two great cars thanks to our parents’ generosity all our lives and plenty of household items thanks to our friends’ and families’ generosity through wedding gifts.

But not having a lot of disposable income taught us that there was a lot more to life than stuff. We survived just fine on PB&J’s and canned soup. And when our first anniversary came around, the simple spaghetti dinner that my husband cooked meant more than eating at a fancy restaurant.

So when our first child was born, we, like many parents, wanted the best for him. But our fervent prayer, as we were once again blessed by the generosity of family and friends was this – May our child have everything he needs and only some of what he wants. May he have to save up for some things and learn to be satisfied and happy with what he already has.

Now as Christmas draws near and my firstborn is old enough to really want things, I’m having trouble figuring out how to help him live into this prayer. I know I wanted things when I was a child, but my husband would tell you that I’m notoriously hard to shop for now. And the reason is that I’m usually more than content with what I have.

So as my son sat busily circling things in the Toys ‘R Us catalog that came in the mail, I wondered how I could help him learn what I’ve learned, even in the middle of one of the most consumeristic times of the year. It’s important to me, because this season is really about God and God’s generosity in giving God’s own Son to be our Savior.

I don’t have it all figured out and there are plenty of other areas where I struggle, but here are some things we’re going to try to teach our children to live the Grateful Life rather than the greedy one.

1) Be a gratitude role model. I have to live what I preach, even at home. In my prayer life, I count my blessings. Saying these blessings out loud can reinforces this type of modeling. “I’m so happy you are in my life.” “I’m so grateful to have good friends.” “Your Dad is the best Dad in the world.”

2) Give thanks. Children of all ages can write or draw a picture of the things they are thankful for. Some grown-ups call this a blessing journal. Or start a simple bedtime ritual of asking what your child is grateful for each day.

3) Treat others with kindness. In these busy, crazy times of social networking and little connection to real people, it’s important to be present in the moment whether that means letting someone merge on the highway or holding the door open. Saying “thank you” is a first step. Rudeness toward others speaks of entitlement – that others are not as important and are in our way.

4) Take action. Recently the librarian at my son’s school fell and broke her hip. When we got home, I asked him if he’d like to make her a “get well” card. He was delighted! He got busy with stickers and markers, then helped me mail it. Simple acts are great ways to share joy and nurture gratitude.

5) Keep it simple. I’m guilty of wanting to take my firstborn to every class and special event. I want him to experience everything! But when we take our walks around the neighborhood, I’m reminded that any moment can be special if you take the time to be present. When we focus on people, relationships, or the wonder of creation, it’s easy to find awe and gratitude.

6) Talk about the world. It’s easy to get frustrated when my child asks “why?” for the 200^th time in the day. But even as I’m in the midst of changing brother’s diaper, cooking dinner, answering the phone, and who knows what else, I try to respond to my son’s honest curiosity. Why rain is important to the earth, where our food comes from, and all the other things that are important to our family. I want him to be able to see the world from outside his four-year-old shoes because our gratitude grows when we’re able to understand the other side of things.

Courage in 2014

Just after the first of the year, words started popping up on my social media. Single words shared what my friends, colleagues, and family members were going to focus on in 2014. I embraced the idea since this year brought a whole lot of new to my life – new church, new home, new role, new people. And every new beginning gives the opportunity to grow into who we’d like to become.

Looking for the origin of this idea, I found One Word 365 and MyOne Word. One Word 365 said: “Forget New Year’s Resolutions. Scrap that long list of goals. Choose just one word. One word that sums up who you want to be or how you want to live. One word that you can focus on every day, all year long. It will take intentionality and commitment, but if you let it, your one word will shape not only your year, but also you. It will become the compass that directs your decisions and guides your steps.”

God is my compass, but I also know the power of words to shape us and the world we live in. After all, God called creation into being through the Word. So I prayed, asking God what I would need in the year ahead, how I might grow, who I might become with all the opportunities and challenges ahead.

COURAGE is my word for 2014. You can read the original post about that here. This is the word God is speaking into my life that I’m confident will not return empty, but accomplish what God has in mind (see Isaiah 55:11). 

This all came to mind because our church is in the midst of our Disciple’s Eleven series. God’s revelation to us is not just a story about a divine being, but about divine love and God’s desire for relationship with us. To live healthy, whole lives as disciples, we need relationships!

Last Sunday we talked about Barnabas, the son of encouragement. En-courage-ment. Courage - from the Middle English corage, equivalent to the Old French cuer which means heart. If courage is to have heart, then encouragement is to put heart back into someone when life has left them battered, bruised, and bleeding. If I am to have courage, then I also need a Barnabas (or ten) who encourage me, who slap me on the back and make me take a breath when I’ve stopped breathing deeply in the Spirit.

This next Sunday, we’ll talk about Peter and Paul, focusing on how we all need a Yoda. Yoda is, of course, the Jedi master and teacher of Obi-Wan Kenobi and Luke Skywalker from Star Wars. 

For Christians, we see this principle in Peter and Paul as they become mentors, coaches, and spiritual teachers for the fledgling church. We need people to look up to – wiser, God-energized guides who help us find our way through challenges that aren’t for faint hearts or weak stomachs.

One way I’ve seen courage playing out in my life this year is in my search for Peters/Pauls. In my new role, I’ve realized how much I don’t know about tax code, electrical systems, and so many other things. And although it sometimes stings my pride or makes me shove things around in an overloaded calendar, I’ve sought out mentors.

In a culture that glorifies busy and hurry, it’s hard to have the patience of presence to allow the gradual work of learning to occur. A lot of life is just osmosis as we soak up wisdom and experience simply by being with another. Osmosis was how protégés like Timothy, Titus, Epaphroditus, Erastus, Epaphras, Silas, Luke, John Mark, and others learned from Paul. They traveled with him, watched what he did, and then were given their own assignments to see how well they were developing their potential.

In another church I served, the senior pastor gave this blessing to each baptized person, “(Name), your church loves you. We make this vow in your presence, to surround you in steadfast love. Who you are is God’s gift to you. Who you become is your gift to God. Amen.” I always found it such a succinct, beautiful summary of life. Spending time with our Peters/Pauls helps us grow into the gift we ultimately offer to God. And that takes some courage.

Independent, Free, & Brave

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed...”

I imagine, like most people, that I often observe traditions without giving them too much thought.

That’s been the case for me with July 4 most years. The day would find me in typical celebration of this American holiday – enjoying a barbeque with friends and family and ooo-ing and ahhh-ing over fireworks.

But this year I spent some time with my good friend, Google, digging into our collective roots, reading our Declaration of Independence, and ruminating on what our unique society has created and taken over the course of nearly 240 years of being.

The quotation above is just a small snippet from the beginning of the Declaration of Independence, laying the groundwork for setting forth a list of grievances against the King in order to justify the breaking of ties between the colonies and the mother country in the eyes of the world. While a vote in the Continental Congress severing our ties actually happened on July 2, 1776 and there is some dispute about when the Declaration was signed, some suggesting dates as late as August, July 4 has come to be the date when we celebrate this document and the foundation it laid for our country.

As much as we celebrate, I wonder how much we believe the words of the document itself? Do we really believe that “all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness?” Of course, Mr. Jefferson, as chief author of the Declaration, speaks in the mode of his day. I would hope that our postmodern sensibilities would include women in our belief of equality, although we’ve had voting rights for less than 95 years. And there are so many other glaring inequalities that you and I could cite.

Even as I write this, I wonder where to take my stand. The 56 signers of the Declaration obviously felt compelled to take their stand, to stake their reputations and their lives with bold strokes of ink. A wise colleague of mine differentiates carefully between “kingdom issues” and the sensationalized issues we see bandied about by pundits. He takes his stand on matters of the kingdom, those things that are close to the heart of God. The other he lets fall away like dross.

I appreciate his wisdom because I’ve seen too many good and godly people take their stand and alienate people left and right. Our magnificent nation staked its claims on these self-evident truths of equality and yet like so many of us, individually, has wandered, strayed, and sinned with startling regularity. Jesus cries, “"Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” (Matthew 23:37).

I wonder what Jesus cries when he looks over our nation. Are we willing? As Barbara Brown Taylor wrote, “If you have ever loved someone you could not protect, then you understand the depth of Jesus’ lament. All you can do is open your arms. You cannot make anyone walk into them. Meanwhile, this is the most vulnerable posture in the world - wings spread, breast exposed - but if you mean what you say, then this is how you stand.”

Jesus chooses to identify as a mother hen - no fangs, no claws, no rippling muscles - who stands between the chicks and those who mean to do them harm. All she has is her willingness to shield her babies with her own body. Which Jesus does, arms spread, breast exposed.

I believe God’s Word still speaks, seeking to gather us in, guiding us in the ways that lead to life. If we mean what we say, let’s take our stand. May we use our independence in ways that glorify God!