Everyday communion

•April 17, 2017 • Leave a Comment

I was meeting with a couple of friends just to hang out and be present to each other, attentive to what we are hearing through and in our conversation together.  Often, transformation is a result of people listening and speaking authentically and transparently to each other with no agenda.

In the conversation, communion came up as something that was going to be a part of the upcoming Sunday church service. I expressed at that moment that communion was happening already between the three of us as we attempted to respect each other, eat and drink together, and encourage each other. I have found that the sacraments more authentically happen outside of the church walls than they do inside them. We find ourselves eating together with people that we care about, and in the midst of those moments, we find ourselves changing into more caring, loving, transformed people because we come to those moments with no pretense.

In church, we mask who we are in our brokenness and beauty because we don’t want people to know how we don’t measure up or how we have fallen short of all of the expectations that we have for ourselves and of all of what we think God expects of us. Communion as a small cup of juice and a little piece of bread but devoid of the radical destruction of hierarchy in foot-washing and the call of Jesus to be more human, to be more of who God created us to be, is missing the whole point of Jesus eating and drinking with his disciples. Jesus is getting at the transformative power of sitting around the table together, as equals, eating and drinking together, enjoying the presence of the other people in the room and only being attentive to them. We like to cloak the experience in spiritual language about the body and blood of Christ, but we must get past the smoke and mirrors of our church traditions and work toward a more authentic worship that invites the Spirit into our daily experience of communion.

With that, who do you do communion with? Who are you eating and drinking with on a regular basis? Are there people that you would rather be eating and drinking with? When you eat and drink, is everyone included and welcomed, or are certain people left out? How do you know who is not fit?

The resurrection of Lazarus

•April 7, 2017 • Leave a Comment

In the lectionary this past Sunday, John 11 was the gospel text. I did not realize that most of the gospel texts for this Lenten season came from the book of John, which was interesting, only because I have been reading the book of John over the last few weeks, not even realizing that some of the signs of Jesus in John’s gospel were the focus of Lent.

As I sat and listened to my pastor work through John 11, I looked again at it, thinking about the entire narrative that John was trying to tell, which culminated ultimately in the death and resurrection of Jesus as Israel’s Messiah or King.

Just before this chapter begins, Jesus has narrowly escaped arrest by the Judeans again in the city of Jerusalem. The Judeans were the power-holders of the time, from whom the Pharisees were a part. These were the people closest to the center of political, religious, and economic power in the capital, Jerusalem. They had wanted Jesus in chapter 10 to claim to be the Messiah, or the new king, which would warrant them to arrest him and report him to the Roman authorities who would then kill him for claiming to be King rather than Caesar. However, Jesus continues to challenge them, telling them that they should look at the work that he has been doing and make the decision themselves, based on their knowledge of the scriptures. He does this because he knows that they will not relinquish their power in order to name Jesus as the coming Messiah because it would endanger them as much as him. They want to stay close to Rome so that they do not lose the working relationship that they have currently with the Roman empire. Claimed-to-be messiahs and their rebellions have already been crushed previously by the Roman empire, so the Judeans are not going to let their power be taken from them.

After Jesus narrowly escapes arrest, he goes to the wilderness on other side of the Jordan river from Jerusalem, keeping himself under the radar for the meantime from the Judeans and Pharisees, who are still on the prowl. While he is out there, messengers from his cousins, Mary, Martha, and Lazarus, come to meet him and ask him to come visit them because Lazarus is sick. Jesus’s cousins are from Bethany, a village just outside of the city of Jerusalem. When the disciples hear Jesus say that they’re going back to Bethany to see his family, Thomas speaks for everyone that they may as well go and die with him because last time that they went to Jerusalem, they were nearly killed as well for being Jesus’ followers.

When they arrive there, Lazarus has been dead four days already. At that time, common knowledge was that the spirit stayed with the body for 3 days after death, and then left. Lazarus is really, really dead now, having no chance of being resurrected. Jesus first meets Martha on his way to their house. In their meeting, she is not fully understanding what Jesus is telling her about raising her brother, but she does make a radical statement by claiming that Jesus is Israel’s messiah, promised from many years before. Good thing none of the Judeans had followed her out to meet Jesus; otherwise she would have been reprimanded for her false statements and lumped in with Jesus and his followers.

She leaves her meeting with Jesus to go tell Mary that Jesus has arrived. Mary gets up right away to go see Jesus with a group of Judeans just behind her. The tension is building here because Jesus knows that he is going to encounter Judeans in this part of the country, but what conflict and fear this meeting might bring is hard to tell. When they meet, Jesus is moved by the mourning of Mary and the Judeans who have come with her, and he joins with them weeping with them. The Judeans admire his transparency, but they are critical of his appearance because they have seen the signs he has done and wonder why he couldn’t have stopped Lazarus from dying.

Jesus then moves to the tomb and raises Lazarus from the dead, much to the amazement of everyone there, including some of the Judeans, who come to believe in him as the Messiah though they were the ones who wanted to kill him in the previous chapter. Others, who are still committed to arresting and killing him, report back to the Sanhedrin, which is the overseeing group of priests and religious leaders in Jerusalem. Seeing that Jesus is a mighty man of God, who may start to gain some undue attention from the Roman authorities, the Jewish leaders decide that only by killing him will the Jewish nation be saved from utter destruction by the Roman empire. Rome could not stand to have another King, especially one coming from an area of the empire that they had had trouble with before. That is why Caiaphas, the leading chief priest says that one man must be sacrificed to save the nation. What Caiaphas doesn’t realize is that he is ironically predicting his own defeat and the saving power of God coming into play in the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus on Easter. Masterfully, God works good out of the evil intentions that the ruling authorities have toward the Messiah.

Heaven and Earth

•March 3, 2017 • Leave a Comment

When I was a kid, I remember envisioning heaven as I sang hymns and praise songs at church. I remember it being a very bright, light-flooded expanse of space with gold floors, in which a huge group of people were gathered around a traditional throne with God in its seat. I don’t really remember having any sense of where Jesus or the Holy Spirit were in the midst of all of it, but I do remember feeling a rush of warmth and security as I sang love songs to a God who had rescued me from my own inadequacies as well as loved me in the midst of them.  I grew up, thinking that heaven was some far off distant space from which God watched the world, working in different ways performing miracles for people over here, answering prayers for people over there, and generally interacting with the world but keeping himself separate because he is holy, distinctly different from this world. From this view, I remember having notions of the world as dirty, soon to be done away with and replaced with something better when Jesus finally returned.

In my studies of NT Wright, I have found much better understanding of how heaven and earth relate, and how God’s work in the world is redemptive, reconciliatory, and rescuing.  Rather than two separate geographical places, heaven and earth are two sides of the same coin of reality. One of them, earth, is painfully present to us every moment, while the other, we catch glimpses of as it breaks forth in God’s work in the world. When the bible talks about Jesus ascending to heaven, it is not some other place that he waits for God’s cue to finally come back. It is another sphere of present reality, in which Jesus is Lord and King of the universe. He is very real, very present and yet not entirely detectable to our daily experience as we muddle through our own emotions and moods.  

In the work of Jesus’ death and resurrection 2,000 years ago, God began his renewing work in the world. He is not going to one day do away with the world like a piece of garbage that he has used for a time, but in the end, has no further use but to destroy it. God loves his creation and world, and he is working constantly to bring renewal and hope through the work of his people. In that sense, we join God and Jesus in bringing heaven and earth together, working for the kingdom on earth as in heaven.

These ideas make me think of different children’s books that I have read that explore these notions of alternate dimensions and worlds that people have access to through magical entrances such as a wardrobe, a rabbit hole, or some other rather ordinary piece of modern furniture. I think that those authors were on to something in their explorations, though I thinks that they all fall short.

So what can we take from all of this? Creation is good, a gift from God and a place that continues to reflect his beautiful work in the world. It is not something that we can use and abuse for our own ends and then hope that God will bail us out when we have destroyed every good part. In the same way, we work together as bearers of God’s image in the world, reflecting his work of reconciliation, renewal, and rescue. We honor and take care of creation, bringing new life to it as God has brought new life to us. We live in such a way as to bring heaven and earth together into a single, seamless reality that only come fully into fruition when Jesus appears again. Heaven is not a place that we go to when we die so that we can escape God’s world. We live and die in expectation of the resurrection and renewal of not only ourselves, but the entire universe. 

A month…

•October 14, 2016 • Leave a Comment

A month of insanity has gone by. We have harvested 2000 acres of corn and just gotten a start on soybeans. Finally, we have a rain day. After 3 full weeks of working every day, I’m ready for a break. I forget how much I love the sound of rain on my roof and the boisterous thunderclaps in the early morning hours before dawn. 

I have had more time to read in the last month as I wait for a load of grain to haul into the elevator. I finished 2 books and started a 3rd. Each of them has touched me in different ways, but I have appreciated each of the authors. The first that I finished is called If God is Love by Philip Gulley and James Mulholland. I had started reading the book several years ago and lost interest for whatever reason, but in this current ungracious and often harsh political climate, I have tried to keep my thoughts and feelings gracious as I think God does with us at all times.  Being gracious and respectful is the theme of the book, but he explores it from many different angles and scenarios, which creates tons of challenges for me because I do not always want to be gracious. I hold grudges and get annoyed easily with the different people around me, but I try my best to not return a spiteful remark with another one or an angered reply with another equally harsh reply.  What I realize the most most though, is that I have been taught my entire life that proper justice is a hurt for a hurt and a pain for an equal pain. My challenge here is to move beyond these responses and walk in the way of Jesus, responding with doing good to repay evil or harm and to sacrifice my pride and selfishness for the good and well-being of another person.

Another book that I just finished was called If the Church were Christian by Philip Gulley. This book taught me again to look at my own life and church and ask if we are truly looking to Jesus to guide our actions individually and communally. Gulley created ten more than statements that highlight the shift in priorities that needs to happen in the church for it to follow more closely in the way of Jesus. I am listing them below as a way for you to consider what these shifts in thinking and habits might look like in your personal life and community life.

If the church were Christian, then…

1. Jesus would be a model for living rather than an object of worship.

2. Affirming our potential would be more important than condemning our brokenness.

3. Reconciliation would be valued over judgment.

4. Gracious behavior would be more important than right belief.

5. Inviting questions would be valued more than supplying answers.

6. Encouraging personal exploration would be more important than communal uniformity.

7. Meeting needs would be more important than maintaining institutions.

8. Peace would be more important than power.

9. Then it would care more about love and less about sex.

10. This life would be more important than the afterlife.

Think about these ideas and how they might challenge our ways of doing church and meeting together. Could we begin a different shift in the church toward love, mercy, grace, peace, justice, and reconciliation? What would our communities look like if we did?

The power of the present moment

•August 24, 2016 • Leave a Comment

I was struck again last night as I hung out with two teenagers from youth group how difficult being present can be. Feelings of inadequacy on my part and a fear that they had little interest in discussing the upcoming school year in the first place swept over me as I tried to navigate awkward silences, in which I know that God was a part of the discussion, but I still couldn’t shake that feeling. I get caught up in planning and making sure that I am accomplishing all that I need to that when I finally get to the point that my plans are complete, the real challenge is merely being present to these students.

Being present may sound like a strange way to describe hanging out or having a conversation, but it is a powerful way of thinking about being with people, no matter who they are. Being present means that we let go of our agendas and plans for a moment or multiple moments to truly listen and learn from the other living, breathing being in the situation. Sometimes we get so caught up in what we want to get done that we ignore/don’t hear what people are truly communicating to us over and above what we came together to talk about. Sometimes our greatest witness or way of showing Jesus to everyone is by being present.

My greatest temptation is to walk away, escape the awkward moment of opening the conversation space for something organic to unfold in the midst of us being together. Yet, a part of me says to stay, embrace the uncomfortable, breathe in, and allow God to reveal to me more and more about myself as well as the people around me as I truly open my ears and eyes to see and hear God in the moment.

Back in the blogging mood…

•August 15, 2016 • 2 Comments

Since Lesotho, I have been hesitant to blog. Traumatic experiences in the mountain kingdom and attempting to acclimate to the empire-state of America has been a continuously evolving experience, even now, 4 years later (has it really been that long?). God has held onto me, though, working in the present moment as he always does, constantly drawing me into places and ways that he is moving his Kingdom forward in our world. Maybe the most attractive thing about the way that God moves in the world is the way that he guides us and nudges us deeper and deeper into his Kingdom practices and experiences. We cannot help but move forward in his calls to equality, justice, peace, and reconciliation because to love our neighbor and our God requires it.

So I’ve come a long way since the Mountain Kingdom of Lesotho… and yet, not too far. I still have my struggles and issues, but God works in each of us, no matter the obstacles.

I graduated from university with a degree in Elementary Education; I had a wonderful student-teaching experience in a community that I have been involved in since junior high through youth ministry. Seeing this community through the lens of public school shed new and different lights on the community’s needs. After graduating though, I did not jump directly into teaching/youth ministry. Instead, I moved back home (my parents’ home) and began working on the farm (a notion I had never dreamed of doing up to that point).  Now working on the farm is never quite what people (or myself) always envision, but it was a welcome transition from sitting in a classroom. I love getting my hands dirty, smashing my fingers, and working up a good sweat. I welcomed the concrete nature of getting a project done, which was very unlike planting seeds of peace, love, contentment, and justice in students at school. At school, results were hard to evaluate and measure in the classroom, which is how working with people always is, no matter the setting. Oftentimes on the farm, the end result/goal is much easier to see, based on yield goals for a crop, broken equipment that needs to be fixed, or pest control in specific fields.

Since coming onto the farm in the beginning of 2013, I have learned so much more about myself, my community, and the ways that God is moving in all of them.  This year is my 3rd year on the farm, and every year continues to bring its challenges and breakthroughs. I am not only working on the farm, though. I have become a part of the local school board, started working with youth in my old high school through the same youth ministry that I worked with before Lesotho, rejoined the work crew in a local trucking company, and continued to serve musically and orally at my local church. Life seems crazy and very full a lot of the time, but I am attempting with each passing day to take a day of rest each week and allow myself to cease from creating (a very difficult challenge, indeed).  In the mix the last four years, I also got married to my childhood sweetheart and built a home in my home community, not too far from her or my parents (less that 3 miles; lol). 

And now, with each passing day, I wonder and ask myself where God is moving and how I can join him in his work. How can I bring more hope, more love, more peace, more justice, more patience to a community of broken and hurting people, one in which I am finding out more and more my own brokenness? 

A poem from Lesotho

•December 24, 2012 • Leave a Comment

So after some searching around and reading some emails, I found this poem from one of the current SALTers in Lesotho who is doing the agricultural side of things rather than the educational side of things like I did. This poem though gives some good insight to the celebration of Christmas in Lesotho as well as a little bit of the scandalous and abnormal nature of the birth of Jesus 2000 years ago.

I hear that it was small and pretty quiet

I hear that it’s small
much quieter
I’ve never been separate from North American hype
from the onslaught of red fuzzy hats
sawed pine trees & eclectic nativity scenes
I hear that it’s small
much quieter
in rural Lesotho, there’s only a day
it’s almost December and
I haven’t heard a thing
it’s hot & we’re waiting desperately for good rains
we’re waiting expectantly
for what will bring us security
for what will bring us peace
for what will bring us life
but that’s how it happened in history, yes?
the quiet entrance
that twinkling star
with all creation attentive
expectant to his coming
for who will bring us security
for who will bring us peace
for who will bring us life

in this way
liturgy mimics
we first wait for his coming
for days that bear centuries
preparing & alluding

and, he comes

at last in that quiet
that perfect beginning of fulfillment
in the realization
of whose voice is ringing now

we walk next
following his movements
swallowing the words that part things differently
the biting words, the gentle words
the hidden words, and
things clarify
water washes
wounds heal
his life & teachings confirm
throwing paradox into wholeness
flipping the finest knowledge over
calling nothings to join his stride

and, for all things true
violence awaited
carrying blood & guilt & war
hatred & jealousy & pride

and all that hangs
and falls
as he stands again
the curtain rips.

it’s Easter that is bigger here in rural Lesotho
it’s Easter that is bigger for our hearts
of course, it had a long beginning
and
I hear that it was small

and pretty quiet
when he first arrived.

If you want to hear more about what is happening on Abby’s journey in Lesotho, you can check it out at abbyinlesotho.wordpress.com