Between Now and Then (Part 1 of 1)

Between Now and Then - An Introduction

Jesus was praying in a certain place, and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, “Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.” Jesus said to them, “When you pray, say: 

Father, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. 

Give is each day our daily bread. 

And forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us. 

And do not bring us to the time of trial.”   (Luke 11:1-4)

When freeway traffic becomes a bit like a parking lot - it can be frustrating. This is the kind of situation that seems to brew road rage. After being in L.A. and sitting in traffic that can  delay a short trip for hours, traffic in Columbus, Ohio - even when it comes to a stand still - is really quite a breeze. Having said that, I know that I have done my share of swearing - hitting the steering wheel - and taking part in righteous rudeness. It can happen very quickly. 

I will eventually arrive at my destination. And yet, between now and then, all hell can break loose - even if it is simply my own internal and nonverbal hellishness. The thing I must remember is that my hellishness does not do me or anyone else any good. So why go there? Why think about flipping my middle finger? Why let myself get all worked up and angry when I am greeted with that finger by another driver? What good does it do me to shake my head in a self-righteous wag? These roadway antics may not merely be the way I react to being on the highway in heavy traffic. It may be how I am very often in the rest of my life - letting myself react from that center of control that I assume is to be the ruling power of my day. Between now and then when I am fooled into believing that I have the right of way - the most important agenda - the privileged spot in life - the answer to everything that seems to be jammed up, I can be assured that I will be a contributing partner to the hellishness that often keeps us a divided and angry and intolerant people.

The other day I was locked in traffic. I was in my usual southbound lane. It is the lane that is to eventually lead smoothly into the exit onto I-70 East that will be on the left. Unfortunately, this lane is not the center left lane. I don’t use the center lane because I know it comes to an end and all traffic in that lane must merge into my lane. See, even there it is my lane. Ahhh! I realize that everyone does not know that the center lane will merge into my lane. The signs that eventually will alert drivers to the need to merge to the right come later than I would expect. That leads to a bottleneck and permits drivers in the center lane to speed forward and squeeze into my lane at the last moment. Quite often, drivers in my lane know this game and we keep close to one another’s bumpers - just to be obnoxiously righteous. Most times during the day the blending of the two lanes happens smoothly - plenty of time - good use of turn signals - hands waving in gratitude - and a transition that takes place well before the very end of the center lane.   But yesterday was not most times of the day - it was the making of hell.

Caught far back in the lane that bears my ownership, I prepared for a wait. The cars in the center lane were speeding by me. It was far enough back in traffic that they really were zipping along in that lane. At one point, a bright yellow SUV passed by and a young boy was leaning out the back window waving his arms and verbally taunting us as they drove by. They were going to get to their destination while we were stuck. It hit me that he did not know what was to come. The lane would end - the speed would be reduced - he would have to enter my lane - we would all be forced to be one. Ha! Now, that sounds as though I am gloating. Well, for a moment I was. Then it hit me. Between now and then we have the ability to handle the delays - the taunts - the injustices - the slings and arrows and waving arms of misfortune - with grace or we can become a part of the finger-flipping world that seems to rule the highways of our lives and our hearts. 

Between now and then - even though it may not seem like it - we are in that time in which the Reign of God is at hand. How does one live there - here? I like to say - we know the way. I remember a song by an east African group I enjoyed in the early 1970s. One line of a song has stayed with me over the years. It deals with being on a road - a road in life - a road we will all face - a road with a destination we have yet to reach. I doubt that the lyricist was writing about the Reign of God - but it sure has  spoken to me of just such a journey. It will be hard we know - and the road will be muddy and long - but we’ll get there - heaven knows how we will get there - we know we will. It is not easy to be gracious or loving or courteous or forgiving or kind in a world with a character that is often quite contrary to such images. We are within the days of the coming of the Reign of God - always have been - it is a life we have been invited to share with others. It is the life that is often recalled with images of light that open up a new reality in which the hellishness of the antics of the world are met head on by an alternate character. The image of light simply means that it will be a living presence - in real time - in our time - that attracts attention because it can appear to be so foreign - so out of place. 

The then that will come is as close as the now in which we find ourselves. Gene Wilder in the movie The Frisco Kid played the part of a Polish Rabbi traveling from NYC to San Francisco during the time of the ‘wild, wild west’. He often would respond to the times of difficulty that created great discouragement with these words of promise: When the Messiah comes. That would be a better time - a just time - a time of rest - a time of unbounded grace and mercy and kindness. The then of the coming of the Messiah - over the length of this long movie - was unfolding within the ordinary and everyday journey through the worst of days that seemed to rule the day now. The Torah that he was to deliver to the new synagogue in San Francisco - the book that opened up the vision and life of the Messiah of God - was becoming not that which was to come - but that which was unfolding already - leading, I think, to a touching revelation for the young Rabbi.

Between now and then the promise of God’s peaceable Reign - the Beloved Community - becomes the substance and shape of the day. We enter it or we walk away from it - we become a part of it or we become a part of something else. Yes, in the meantime - the time between now and then - we will get caught in traffic and flip a middle finger and leave no room for a stranger - but each of these times will reappear and we will be handed the opportunity to breathe in a life in which the coming of the Messiah is open among us. We are not invited to live within the way of the Messiah of God in order to get somewhere other than right here. We are invited to be right here - between now and then - as though we are a part of the character of God’s Reign. I’m sure all of us have seen that light go on here and there in our lives even in the midst of darkness. Those moments along the way display the holiness - the blessedness of God’s Reign.

TRRR

Whatever the privilege - disassemble it - for the well-being of all

I've become more and more frustrated by the anger in the air - people complaining that the world is not fair. My frustration may be amplified as I come to hear that those voices are correct - the world is not fair. Let us not forget - this the world baby - the world. This is not - has not - and will not be a safe haven for all. As soon as the world as we have had it must look into the world as it unfolds anew - people will call things foul - people will sound offended even betrayed - people will begin to make a list of the wrongs that have taken place and the people who are to be blamed for causing those wrongs. The air that gets stirred up in these times - stinks. It is like death. More than likely people on all sides point to those on the other side and make it quite clear that the air has become putrid because of the actions and words and values of those folks. Yet, when we are those who point out the foul smell of the other - we are not able to smell our own vileness.

I can be a vile person - I can stink up the air as well as anyone. To many, I am a person of privilege. Some would call it white privilege. Some would add white, male privilege. Some would even tag on white, middle-class, male privilege. Some would insist on white, middle-class, college educated, male privilege. Some would insist on white, middle-class, college educated, heterosexual, male privilege. Wait, one more, white, middle-class, college educated, heterosexual, colonialist, male privilege. It all fits. That is one way of looking at me. I think I have been able to own all the classifications. I could spend time telling you about adventures in my life that have helped me see how I manage to live with such labels and how I have tried to deny them. You may call me whatever you like. I do not like to hear all those labels because they carry so much baggage. Every bit of baggage only leads me and others to be participants in more and more of the stinking mess of the world.

Let me try this. I think it is a part of being a follower of Jesus to be someone who is willing to disassemble and then reassemble labels like privilege to see how it has shaped me - notice the gifts it has handed me - own the demons it whips up within me. Each one of those labels invites me to experience the world from another perspective. If this is who I am - what does being a follower of Jesus expect of me. Stop - Look - Listen, and then ask questions of that which is not me and once again Stop -Look - Listen. Yes, there will be howling and push-back followed by complete disagreement. Back in the early 1980's, I was made to work through the meaning of that which some white folks hate to even mention: White Privilege. Later I used Peggy Macintosh's checklist (20 items) to work with adult education classes. There was never a lack of conversation. I also learned that some folks who saw themselves through this mirror for the first time often went dead silent - as though it should not be discussed - accepted - acknowledge. There were also those who became enraged and within moments the discussion often turned toward a them that are trying to change everything. There were also some folks who leaned forward and were willing to ask about how a person can grow through those labels and even grow out of the need to label others.

Ah, that is what it is to be a follower of Jesus - living within that which I am - beloved of God - and then living with a heart that sees in all others - others who are just like me - beloved of God. It is then that all things can be discussed - confronted - healed - forgiven - disassembled - and then, within a breath of fresh air, we can enter into the eternal journey of reconstructing our humanity in the image of God. This last aspect of being a follower of Jesus never ends. It is how we begin the day. It is how we face the moment at hand. It is how we plan to engage that which is to come.

We must remember that for some folks, this journey is one that can frighten me us - it can be too much to ask - it may take away that which we have earned for ourselves - it may invite us to step out of a privileged position in life in order to serve any and all. I seem to recall Jesus stepping out of the privileged position of teacher, rabbi, Lord - only to wash the feet of knuckleheads much like me. He disassembled the the meaning of privilege buy stepping into another way of being privileged. This is the privilege of walking in the image of God - the truly human one. This is a position that turns itself over to seeking the welfare of those who long to be fully alive - fully human - fully beloved.

I am privileged - privileged to bow and bend  - privileged to use my life to make life more gracious and hospitable for others. And yes, that comes at a cost. I may be labeled as a lover of those people. That may mean that to some degree - some small degree - I become somewhat other - also. Yet what a privilege it is to be one in the company of saints (beloved) who help to open my heart - my mind - my life - my experience of the world - to the fullness of life that I do not share when I attempt to have the world in my image.

We each are invited to take all that we are - however we have come to the place in which we live - and go ahead and live to the Glory of God. This will never be a presence of violence, threat, fear, jealousy, envy, or any of those traits that carry us into warfare against one another. This Glory shines when we - in  all our privilege of any kind - humble ourselves and risk living with all others as the Beloved, Children of God.
TRRR

Whatever the privilege - disassemble it - for the well-being of all

I've become more and more frustrated by the anger in the air - people complaining that the world is not fair. My frustration may be amplified as I come to hear that those voices are correct - the world is not fair. Let us not forget - this the world baby - the world. This is not - has not - and will not be a safe haven for all. As soon as the world as we have had it must look into the world as it unfolds anew - people will call things foul - people will sound offended even betrayed - people will begin to make a list of the wrongs that have taken place and the people who are to be blamed for causing those wrongs. The air that gets stirred up in these times - stinks. It is like death. More than likely people on all sides point to those on the other side and make it quite clear that the air has become putrid because of the actions and words and values of those folks. Yet, when we are those who point out the foul smell of the other - we are not able to smell our own vileness.

I can be a vile person - I can stink up the air as well as anyone. To many, I am a person of privilege. Some would call it white privilege. Some would add white, male privilege. Some would even tag on white, middle-class, male privilege. Some would insist on white, middle-class, college educated, white, male privilege. Some would insist on white, middle-class, college educated, heterosexual, male privilege. It all fits. That is one way of looking at me. I think I have been able to own all the classifications. I could spend time telling you about adventures in my life that have helped me see how I manage to live with such labels and how I have tried to deny them. You may call me whatever you like. I do not like to hear all those labels because they carry so much baggage. Every bit of baggage only leads me and others to be participants in more and more of the stinking mess of the world.

Let me try this. I think it is a part of being a follower of Jesus to be someone who is willing to disassemble and then reassemble labels like privilege to see how it has shaped me - notice the gifts it has handed me - own the demons it whips up within me. Each one of those labels invites me to experience the world from another perspective. If this is who I am - what does being a follower of Jesus expect of me. Stop - Look - Listen, and then ask questions of that which is not me and once again Stop -Look - Listen. Yes, there will be howling and push-back followed by complete disagreement. Back in the early 1980's, I was made to work through the meaning of that which some white folks hate to even mention: White Privilege. Later I used Peggy Macintosh's checklist (20 items) to work with adult education classes. There was never a lack of conversation. I also learned that some folks who saw themselves through this mirror for the first time often went dead silent - as though it should not be discussed - accepted - acknowledge. There were also those who became enraged and within moments the discussion often turned toward a them that are trying to change everything. There were also some folks who leaned forward and were willing to ask about how a person can grow through those labels and even grow out of the need to label others.

Ah, that is what it is to be a follower of Jesus - living within that which I am - beloved of God - and then living with a heart that sees in all others - others who are just like me - beloved of God. It is then that all things can be discussed - confronted - healed - forgiven - disassembled - and then, within a breath of fresh air, we can enter into the eternal journey of reconstructing our humanity in the image of God. This last aspect of being a follower of Jesus never ends. It is how we begin the day. It is how we face the moment at hand. It is how we plan to engage that which is to come.

We must remember that for some folks, this journey is one that can frighten me us - it can be too much to ask - it may take away that which we have earned for ourselves - it may invite us to step out of a privileged position in life in order to serve any and all. I seem to recall Jesus stepping out of the privileged position of teacher, rabbi, Lord - only to wash the feet of knuckleheads much like me. He disassembled the the meaning of privilege buy stepping into another way of being privileged. This is the privilege of walking in the image of God - the truly human one. This is a position that turns itself over to seeking the welfare of those who long to be fully alive - fully human - fully beloved.

I am privileged - privileged to bow and bend  - privileged to use my life to make life more gracious and hospitable for others. And yes, that comes at a cost. I may be labeled as a lover of those people. That may mean that to some degree - some small degree - I become somewhat other - also. Yet what a privilege it is to be one in the company of saints (beloved) who help to open my heart - my mind - my life - my experience of the world - to the fullness of life that I do not share when I attempt to have the world in my image.

We each are invited to take all that we are - however we have come to the place in which we live - and go ahead and live to the Glory of God. This will never be a presence of violence, threat, fear, jealousy, envy, or any of those traits that carry us into warfare against one another. This Glory shines when we - in  all our privilege of any kind - humble ourselves and risk living with all others as the Beloved, Children of God.
TRRR

Uncovering Joy: Tales of Everyday Urban Spirituality (24 of 24)

Uncovering Joy - Whatever 

“For I want you to know, brothers and sisters, that the gospel that was proclaimed by me is not of human origin; for I did not receive it from a human source, nor was it taught it, but I received it though a revelation of Jesus Christ. You have heard, no doubt, of my earlier life in Judaism. I was violently persecuting the church of God and was trying to destroy it. I advanced in Judaism beyond many among my people of the same age, for I was far more zealous for the tradition of my ancestors. But when God, who had set me apart before I was born and called me through his grace, was pleased to reveal his Son to me, so that I might proclaim him among the Gentiles, I did not confer with any human being, nor did I go up to Jerusalem to those who were already apostles before me, but I went away at once into Arabia, and afterwards I returned to Damascus.” (Galatians 1:11-17) 

Joy is a gift. It all comes to be in the middle of everything that is going on around us. Therefore, it is not difficult to uncover joy. In fact, joy is just waiting to burst into the room and take everyone to a new realm of being - the Reign of God. There is one problem. The room can be so full of our agendas, egos, desires, and expectations that joy cannot be seen or heard. We can be so consumed by creating the life we want for ourselves that we miss the presence of the joy of the Reign of God even when it is standing in the same room with us. 

Again and again I have said that I am not a person of great discipline when it comes to practicing meditation or a life of prayer. And yet, God doesn’t let people like me miss out on the party that is available through contemplation. I truly believe that God’s Spirit of Life has a way of backing into us and bumping us and making a bit of unwanted noise so that we will turn - even if just for a brief moment - and lose control of everything we claim to control. I’m sure it happens to all of us. In fact I would go so far as to say this Spirit of Life is always throwing things into the day to help us see God’s Reign a bit more clearly - even if just for moments at a time. 

When I am presiding at worship in our congregation - even though we practice what some have called a joyfully-low, high liturgy - I am the one wearing a robe and the stole of my ordination. Even a visitor would have a way of knowing that I must be a leader in the community - liturgical garb has that poke-me-in-the-eye presence. As a presiding minister in worship I try hard to keep the flow of our historical liturgy moving in a way that is respectful and yet down-to-earth. Too often, liturgy can create an atmosphere of inhospitality simply by the way it is led and the way we carry ourselves. Having said that, I find that there is a wide open area between being too loose and too rigid in the liturgy. 

Sometimes what we do and how we do it is all about the individual leader. I would contend that both the informal leader and the formal leader of worship can play around in the world of individual egos more than in the realm of inviting the gathered community to play around in the world of praise and promise that is worship. Some might say that I can be a bit of a control freak when it comes to how we move through the liturgy. Other people may say I can be a bit too relaxed and irreverent. I tend to agree - with both. However the story is told, gifts have been given to me that shake me and stir me and remind me that I am not in control - nor will I ever be able to be in control. 

There is a woman named Amy. She has been in the congregation well before I arrived almost thirty years ago. Her parents are dear and devote saints within the congregation. Amy has Down’s syndrome. Her father and mother have always taught her to be polite, respectful, considerate, and they helped her learn the patterns of regular community life. Over the years, Amy has preferred to eliminate my title when she refers to me. It is not Pastor Debelak. It is not even Pastor Al. It has always been ‘Al’ or ‘Allan.’ Therefore a greeting will be ‘Hi Al.’ For years her father has tried to encourage her simply to call me Pastor. In the face of all the years of faithful, parental coaching, it is always  Al or Allan.

Through the years, Amy has talked to me about my daughter and continues to ask how she is doing even years after my daughter went away to college and then into her career. When my mother was ill she would ask about her. When my mother died, Amy would tell me how sorry she was about my mother’s death - for years. After my divorce she made sure she was there for me with a few comments and a pat on my back. Within all of her repetition I have found that I am renewed. I chuckle. I beam. I find that my heart becomes open to more than what I have ever expected. She is a gift 

This brings me back to the liturgy and being surprised and having joy spring right into the midst of things. Most Sundays, when the gospel is about to be read, the congregation stands as the gospel acclamation is sung by the people. The crucifer leads the gospel procession out into the middle of the gathered community. As the Presiding minister, I am last in line with the Assisting minister holding the lesson book for the reading. Once we are in position for the reading, I step back from the book and make this kind of announcement: “The Gospel according to Luke.” Within seconds, the congregation responds with: “Glory to you O Lord.” 

Now, let me step back for just a moment. For years we have tried to teach the congregation that simple Gospel Acclamation along with the one that follows the conclusion of the reading: “Praise to you O Christ.” Who knows why these kinds of responses take time to become a natural part of our worship life. And yet - in time - it has worked out. Now we have the announcement of the gospel and then - with that short pause - the response. Yes! 

Just when I can feel so good about having something “work” as the worship team has planned, joy is uncovered and it is called Amy. Within that pause - that very short pause - there comes a voice that breaks through the formality. For all who hear that voice, there is a corporate smile that stretches across the nave. In that moment - in that pause - in that slight bit of silence - in what some see as a solemn moment - in those fleeting seconds when I wonder if the “official” response to the announcement of the gospel will take place - we are all reminded of the essence of all that we do and say. Amy offers her own response to the announcement of the Gospel. It is an uncensored and uninhibited: “Whatever Allan.” The first time I heard it, I came quite close to losing it. I had to take a deep breath and settle back into the pages of that big lesson book being held by the Assisting minister whose eyebrows rose and eyes opened wide with joy.

“Whatever Allan” is a blessed reminder to consider the flowers of the field and the birds of the air. I am reminded of the power of the Holy Spirit that can and does spill out the power of God’s creative wind at any time and in any place so that we do not become consumed by our egos or patterns or lists of things that must be this way and not that way. That which is about to be shared is the reading of the Good News within the gospel lesson. All else is simply “Whatever Allan.” This gospel lesson is the power of the day that transforms lives and lifts us into visions of the Reign of God in Scripture. It is a word that spreads out through the congregation even as the words are being spoken. The congregation is standing to honor the reading in the midst of the community and all eyes are turned toward the cross that marks the place of the reading. Amy’s response cuts to the reason for our focused attention. It is not the robes, the procession, the processional cross, or the formal announcement of the lesson, it is the Good News. All else is simply “Whatever Allan.” 

There are moments when I am so caught off guard by this weekly response that I have come close to tears. In that moment so close to the reading of the gospel and in the middle of all the gathered saints, we are reminded of the joy that is not only about to be uncovered in the Scripture - but also the joy that God makes incarnate in, with, and under all that is ordinary among us. Those tears stir up deep emotions - long-held emotions. Amy’s voice cracks open the shell I use to keep myself safe from them. There, in that innocent response, it is as though the Reigning Lord, Jesus, is really present. The tears are, for me, like the plea: “Come, Lord, Jesus. Come!” Come and open up my heart. Come and let me have a glimpse of the life of your Reign. Come let these words be like seeds planted in my heart that your love and mercy and grace and forgiveness will burst forth within my life. 

When I look at all the work being done within our congregation and out in the community by the followers of Jesus among us, I am overwhelmed with joy. When I look around and see the compassion and acts of mercy and kindness and mutual consolation that takes place among us, I am overwhelmed with joy. When I see people walking through barriers and biases and across boundaries for the sake of others, I am overwhelmed with joy. And then, in the middle of all the Sunday morning worship that follows a wonderful historic pattern and provides the words and music and visuals that are meant to linger with us and shape us throughout the week, joy is available within a solo voice that makes us vulnerable to the word of God’s Reign that is our life: “Whatever Allan.” 

The day may come when I will be at Amy’s funeral or she will be at mine. In my faithful imagination, I hope that the congregation - upon hearing the announcement of the gospel lesson - will boldly insert “Whatever ____!” It is most certain that joy - overwhelming joy will fill our hearts and our lives. We are so enriched by the simplicity of sainthood. We are so in need of those voices that appropriately poke us with such truthfulness, it creates laughter and tears. Long-winded narratives of what we have or have not been able to do are nothing more than rubbish. We are people who are always in the presence of joy being uncovered without having to leave the ordinary and common and the life that is at hand.

TRRR

Walking in the Reign of God - the places it takes us - Whew

Think of the Reign of God as a verb - not a place - not a time. The Reign of God is happening - it is breaking in - it is interrupting the patterns of everyday life. That's action. I use this image in place of the word Heaven. I suppose I could also use Heaven as a verb rather than a place but it would take so much explaining and unpacking that people would still be looking to go somewhere after they die.

Maybe the best way to talk about the Reign of God as a verb is to imagine the life of Jesus. He was a creature of creation - a human being. His life is full of the everyday aspects of his place in history and the place in which he lived. Therefore he had to walk within and through the power structures of the day. It is in that historical context the he meets his followers. It is in that cultural context that he begins to live in a manner that is at times quite contrary to the cultural norms. It is in a specific religious context that he reforms the images and expectations that made religious folk of his day appear to be religious.  So, he is in the middle of all that - much like we are in the middle of our context today - yet, he lives out of a vision - a promise - an imagination that creates in him and through him - a very distinctive life. The Reign of God acts upon him - he begins to live as though no other power will be his guide. Jesus will take on this peaceable Reign as a guiding light he will follow every day - no matter what that might mean to his well-being.

We all can look around at our context and ask, "What the hell is going on around here?" This morning I was once again amazed at the brutality - the genocide - taking place in Aleppo. But more amazing is how fearful we can be that refugees from this Syrian devastation may be coming to our country. When the Reign of God acts out its life in, with, and under our lives, our anxieties and fears need not control us. The Reign of God welcomes - heals - soothes - offers life in the face of death. More importantly, the life within the Reign of God does all that - knowing there is a cost to being caught up within the active spirit of that Reign. Let's remember that there is a risk to the world-as-it-is when we step into the life of God's Reign and begin to act as though we are like the relief workers who step into hostility with an unbending ability to side with - stand with - care for - those who are the victims of such hostility. Let's also remember that the world-as-it-is will always be a hell of place to be. The Reign of God breaks into this place and time to face off against the power of hellishness that is so often the standard operating dynamics of a world of fear and anxiety.

The Reign of God is consistently and eternally one of peace - nonviolence - justice - reconciliation - forgiveness. Once again, we are talking about action - not a place. Just yesterday I put myself through the painful ordeal of reading the words of a pastor whose vision of the Reign of God consists of violence.  In his hellish attempt to do a make-over of the Reign of God, it becomes fine and even necessary to kill in the name of God. He calls for active violence against others. For him it was violence to counter another form of violence. And yet, at the end of those hellish acts of violence against violence - we are left in the middle of a hellish life in which death continues to rule and the Reign of God never comes to life. I find it interesting that the way of violence - the way of self-righteousness - the way of blame and condemnation never seems to bring about the life of the Reign of God. Oh, there are many promises - but all of them prove to be quite empty.

The living presence of the Reign of God - even if it is only able to impact a moment in time - has the power to change hearts and display a peaceableness that is inspiring to all. I find that when this Reign comes to life, people step back and watch - they become speechless - they breath more easily - they smile - they even seem to cross sides and agree that something new must come to life. Walking in the Reign of God is a daily discipline. It is the ordinary interruption of what is - so that any of us may be shaken up by a life in which peace presides in the face of hostility. I find that I am never ready to be face-to-face with the life of the Reign of God. Yet, there in the shape of others - even others with whom I find great differences - my hostility/hellishness is exposed and I am handed the opportunity to walk to a new beat that seeks the well-being of all. I an invited to swallow my pride and enter into an adventure for life that I had not anticipated.

This is not an easy walk. We not only must face the hellishness of others - we have our own investment in our brand of hellishness that keeps us from walking in the way of the Reign of God. I cannot always hear or see just how hell-bent I can be - how violent I am in thought, word, and deed. And yet, there are those wonder-filled moments when the life of the Reign of God is on display within the life of others - and it turns my head. More importantly they are able to turn my heart. You see, this life within the Reign of God acts upon us - it invites us - it pulls us - it tickles us - it opens us to that which is not us - yet. Whew, that can change the day.
TRRR

What do we do when the same lies are sustained by all parties

Will we as - 'followers of Jesus' - resist the ways of democrats and republicans? Maybe another way to put that is to ask if we will stand with and for those whose lives will be trampled by whatever power rises to the top? And when we do that standing with all the others we encounter in the next years, will that alter the cultural story-telling we all know so well?  Or will we give up on that way of life and sink back into the lies of our cultural stories?

It is far to easy to simply go along with the tales of good times when the good times are only for a few. Those few, remember, are the story-tellers of the culture. Therefore, no matter who spins the story  - it will always be a story that leaves no room for the outcast - the minority - the sojourner - the ones who are different from the culture's story-tellers. When the story leaves out or diminishes the worth of those who are not in control of making up the cultural story - that story is said to be good or even great. We must be clear though, without including them - without making the story big enough to include more than the few who have claimed ownership of the power to tell the stories - the story is a lie. I should say the story has been and is and will continue to be - a lie.

How do we become a people who resist the lies? How do we say No to the ongoing charade? How do we keep looking in the mirror to see how we each hang onto that storyline even as we are invited to resist it? How do we become a part of another story-line in which truth-telling is honored - even when it causes a loss to us? How do we work to stop the ongoing story-line that manufactures and then manages and then cultivates - division - fear of others - self-security - and blame? From what we can see throughout our history, a political party never is able to create a new story. At times there are glimpses of such a change - a strange moment in time in which our common brokenness is so exposed it is repulsive to most people. It is then that a change can take place. Yet, if that change begins to mess with the dominant story-telling of those who hold the pen used to write the story, there will be a backlash - that attempts to march us back into the redevelopment of a them upon which we can cast our blame for any and everything that seems to be going wrong.

More and more, we must be willing to speak up whenever the cultural lie persists among us. Even when it is being composed by the political party or movement that we find ourselves following. There seems to be a mythical aspect to our cultural story - a part that is so central to that story-line we often cannot see or hear the lies that it spins. It is as much a part of us as apple pie - baseball - reality tv - or whatever else is a part of life-as-it-is-for-us. It is as much a part of us as the racism - the privilege - the rage - the blessings - the curses - the wealth - the us verses them - that changes nothing at all. When we are able to stop listening to or consenting to or enabling the lies that keep things just as they always have been, we may be able to move into another life.

I really do think that is a possibility. It is an endless possibility - always at hand - always waiting for me and you to go there instead of staying within the lies that never allow us to be fully human - fully standing with all others for the well-being of all others. Both parties do not really go that far - so, I suppose - we must.
TRRR

Uncovering Joy: Tales of Everyday Urban Spirituality (23 0f 24)

Uncovering Joy - What Catches Your Eye 

“Now the apostles and the believers who were in Judea heard that the Gentiles had also accepted the word of God. So when Peter went up to Jerusalem, the circumcised believers criticized him, saying, “Why did you go to uncircumcised men and eat with them?” Then Peter began to explain it to them, step by step....” 

(Here Peter tells the whole story of his adventure in Joppa)
“When they heard this, they were silenced. And they praised God saying, “Then God has given even to the Gentiles the repentance that leads to life.” (Acts 11:1-4, 18) 

It must be spring break. Lines of students - clusters of students - packs of students are being led up the grand, stone stairway to the main doors of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in NYC. Remarkably patient security people inspected the bags and offered a word of thanks. Without an agenda in hand I had to catch my breath and decide where my journey in this great museum would begin. 

Everyone in the cavernous entrance hall seems to be ready to take off in different directions. That’s how people are. It is quite a piece of art in its own way - to see how people choose to move through the centuries and cultures. Within the masses of young students there were a number of well-dressed and well-appointed adults who walked as though they were quite familiar with the ways and spaces of the museum and as much at home as one can look dressed in such fine fabric and etched make-up. 

Lately my eye has been drawn to bright mixes of colors that are able to awaken my senses and brighten up my outlook on the day. On this day I set off through rooms of sculpture and carvings from Africa and the South Pacific. These rooms were obviously not the choice of most of the people in the museum - the rooms were uncluttered and wide open. I gave myself the freedom to read about the places from which these delicate pieces were created. After hearing about the recent earthquake in Chili, I now saw just how vulnerable so many people would be if a Tsunami of great force had rippled across the Pacific. A great numbers of islands are scattered east of Australia and the many dots in the middle of this wide expanse of water was difficult to put in perspective. Adding to my amazement was the fact that from each island there was a culture of people that could be quite distinct and the distinction could be seen in the way art dressed up their essential objects of everyday life. 

Months ago I watched a video on the human genome project sponsored by National Geographic. The project said we all come from one people - one tribe. Through DNA testing, they have charted out the journey of their storytelling. From one people - we have a diversity of looks and customs and ways to find meaning and purpose and worth. 

Looking at all the island in the south Pacific the theory of this project all seemed quite possible. Over time, things change and bend and move and separate. Something new keeps entering into the picture. Even as now I look around the room in which I am writing, we are like a museum of living art often unable to see the world as another might see it - but longing to do just that. Not only have we changed and keep on changing - so does the planet. Most often, we do not even know what will happen in our individual lives - how can we see how the earth will bend and move and separate and make something new even though we have set borders and boundaries and claimed ownership for this place and that place? 

I eventually wandered into the museum’s display of modern art. Just as some people consider some pieces of modern art a display of chaos, this first room was just that - chaos. Upon a second look, the chaos was just a cover for how we each have an eye for this or that. Everyone was moving and pausing and turning in random fashion within the room. One elderly woman sat at the edge of a bench gazing at one specific piece of art. She was definitely engage in that painting even as folks brushed by through the space between her eyes and that canvas. I was pulled toward two pieces at the other end of the room. I visually played with them as is often my way of entering into a picture - drawn into just a piece of the whole. A young woman next to me was looking at the same paintings. She had a camera in her hand and so did I. She took a wide angle shot of each of the whole paintings. I drew very close and focused on one portion of the whole - caught up by the vivid colors. She looked at me like I was a bit odd; we each melted back into the chaotic art work of patrons moving in what appeared to be some kind of swirling madness. Then again, we each were being led by our own vision and intentions. 

It is not difficult to remember that people will go off in different directions. Most often we benefit from our diversity of actions and choices. People who wander through art museums may be quite conflicted by the kind of art that suits them. That which pulls one person through the rooms of modern artists may also be that which pushes them from the lighting used by a classic Dutch artist. Then again two people wandering through those rooms of modern artist may fly through one room only to linger in another - both loving modern artists - both loving only a certain expression of one particular type of art.

I find that within the grand mixture of people in a city - like art in a museum - means that there will always be something that pulls us away from one line of thought or action. We can try to keep our eyes fixed on the surface of things - that which initially attracts us - but as we do that, so much more is missed. There are so many reasons that our eyes wander and we begin to take in sights and experiences we would not choose if we were left up to our own view of life. Like a gallery, the streets and restaurants and businesses and neighborhoods in cities beckon us to look up and let our eyes be caught up into the strange and sometimes peculiar and odd other. 

It takes flexibility to begin to appreciated a work of art that does not fall within categories of art that have been a part of our own world view. It also takes time. The time is needed to help us see with new eyes and hear the story of the piece of art or the culture in which the art is produced. It is then that we see the nuance - the perspective - the cultural bedrock that comes to life in a piece of art. There have been so many times when I would move quickly through one room of a museum on my way to the room that fits me best. To be quite honest, I still do that. Then again, a return visit to a museum helps me walk more slowly and see the art I have been walking past on my way to another room. 

I do not move easily between one room of art and another - some transition time is usually necessary. Such time as this is also needed when I find myself entering the lives of others who are at first only seen as strangers. There may be something odd about “them” - something different - something that may be so very subtle. At times, whatever may be different is able to move me in another and new direction - that’s fortunate. That which is avoided becomes that which is to be removed or that from which I remove myself. In the realm of being God’s people, this movement away from those who are seen as different becomes a part of the brokenness that divides and separates and restricts life. Traditionally we call that sin. It is not easy to walk into a new room of art and learn about the character and style of the artists. It is not easy to walk into a room of people who are not what I have come to know and begin to learn about the character and style of those who differ from me. 

In the Church we say that the power of the Holy Spirit is that which gives us a nudge to check out the other room - the other person - the other culture - the other, no matter what our first impressions or biases may try to  tell us.  This Spirit tickles us into taking a look - so that we will be handed the opportunity to be caught up into a new vision for life. I find that the people around me are like strange pieces of art. Sometimes I simply remove myself into another room. Then again, it only takes a bit more time to step into and begin to learn what makes up that work of art - called you. Just as I was standing in front of a painting alongside a young woman and we each had our way of venturing into the work of the artist, we each need to move into that which we do not know in ways that may be quite different. What is most important is that we move - we enter into the art - we enter into the lives of those around us. That movement takes deliberate action. In our storytelling, the Spirit nudges us and pulls us into experiences that not only catch our eye but they also create connections that we never anticipate. 

Urban spirituality becomes a life that is willing to lean into the other room and take a look and find out what catches our eye. At first, nothing may grab us - we may even be repulsed. Then again, day after day we are thrown back into the diversity of God’s artistry. Some things seem so different we cannot wrap our minds around how these differences can be overcome - or if we should even think about overcoming them. It is then that we find ourselves on a rooftop in Joppa being introduced into a life that is strange and odd and even forbidden. The Holy Spirit moves us into and through those times that we might see it all within a new perspective. It is then that our eyes begin to see all things in a new light. The Church in Jerusalem had to be pulled into another room of God’s creativity. The adventures of Peter offered the others permission to look again and to see the expansiveness of God’s rule and the artistry that invites us to come and see and bring an end to the many ways we attempt to be islands to ourselves. 

TRRR

The Way of Nonviolence as an Endless Journey - where joy endlessly abides

I was going to begin with the simple statement that the way of nonviolence is an endless journey. I like the sound of a journey. It means we are moving - we are moving from this place to another place - even if the movement simply happens in our hearts. Having said that, for nonviolence to become a part of the center of our lives - our hearts - is to enter an amazing journey that not many are able to engage. The mere journey that transforms our hearts is one that does not merely change our core or center - it makes for a new way to journey into and through the days of our lives.

I was also a bit skittish about using the word endless to describe this journey. That can sound as though it is a journey that is really not one we should enter. If it is endless - it is within all of time. It can mean that there are no breaks - no opportunity for retreating. And yet, endless can also carry the notion of utter availability. It becomes that which is at hand and that which is yet to be and it offers to expand our understanding of all that is and all that could be. The way of nonviolence is available even as I turn to the ways of violence in words or actions or thoughts. Endless need not sound tedious. Endless can be a soothing word - a blessed assurance. Endless is like that parent who waits for the long lost son to come home and the older brother to come into the house without bitterness and anger. Endless for me is the Reign of God that is no longer distant or in another time or place. Endless takes in my present wandering life an gives direction that has the power to stir up hopefulness.

I always see nonviolence as a way that one can move within our world. It is quite contrary to that which comes so naturally to all of us. That is why so many people remind us to pray for peace - endlessly. Peace comes as nonviolence erupts into the everyday patterns of life. Prayerfulness becomes the way we focus - the way we catch ourselves in the act of having our lives participate in the many faces of violence of the world. I like to picture this notion of prayerfulness as a stream of water that flows into and through us. In other words, it need not be part of a movement outside of our everyday experience. I would suggest that prayerfulness is a present reality much like the beating of our hearts that we most often do not even consider - or the breath we take without making it something we must control. The way of nonviolence is always present and at hand. A vital part of this journey we are invited to enter as our own means we keep in mind - whose we are. Keep in mind the breath of life that is the breath we all share. The way of nonviolence is one in which I recognize that the breath that keeps me alive was once your breath - or the breath of my enemy - or the breath of those I have not known. We endlessly take in that which is not us - yet becomes us.

Most frustrating for me is when I attempt to turn to other ways of living into the way of nonviolence. It never works. There is either the way of nonviolence - the way of God's Reign as I call it - or - there is the way of fear - anxiety - blame - jealousy - envy.... hell among us. Within this basic frustration is  why I liked the expression saint-sinner that is used to describe us. I don't like it when it is used as an excuse to back away from the journey of nonviolence - the ways we settle for what is because it falls in line with our character. Instead, I like it as a tool to remind me to keep in mind that which is not at hand. Yes, I let fear reign - I scapegoat - I allow anxiety to turn you into an enemy, but I also have this creative breath that will always be the power of an amazing grace that can becomes me and changes how I entertain your presence.

The way of nonviolence is an endless journey and yet it is never a journey we take on our own. It is always a communal adventure. It is embraced as we take part in the miracle of dialogue.  For too often, we see ourselves as nonviolent people when in reality others are able to spot the violence in our words and actions. We need the eyes and ears of others to help us lean into the way of nonviolence. We are endlessly a people meant to hold hands and walk together into the endless creativity of God's peaceable Reign where - joy abides.
TRRR

In the Reign of God - Black Lives Matter in a particularly urgent way

This week as I was whipping through things I wanted to read as I was waiting for this or that to take place. In one article I was moved by this comment about Black Lives Matter. It was in response to how many folks try to turn the phrase to what is considered - by some - the more inclusive statement: All Lives Matter. The comment was as simple and profound as this, "Black Lives Matter in a particularly urgent way." Yes, you matter - Yes, your heritage matters - Yes, your economic situation matters - Yes, the lose of your status as majority is bugging you - BUT, in a particularly urgent way, we must stand up as people who do not tolerate the systemic injustice that still rules the core of our culture.

As a white man - no, let me say it like this - as a follower of Jesus whose skin happens to be light in a society that has long decided that light is right - I am being called to ask questions about the life around me. Why can I go most anywhere and never be harassed for being a 'senior' looking European guy? Why do I know of so many stories of African American males who have been pulled over while driving - no wrong doing - no complaints - just pulled over for driving or walking with a skin color and a hair texture that is not like mine? Why can European-Americans carry guns so freely within the limits of the law and yet if you carry - under those same limits - and you are an African-American - well, that may just be your demise? How many of your children are afraid to go out of the house because they are afraid of the police in their neighborhood? Yes, they may be afraid of other young people in the neighborhood - but to be afraid of the police...never happened to me.Why is it that every African-American parent I know has had to have 'the talk' (and I don't mean birds and bees) with their children?

In the name of the Christ - the Messiah of God - the Reign of God, the centrality of our humanity must lead us into lives that not only sustain - but also insist on - a plurality of people within our lives. When we step back - when we attempt to hold on to life as we have had it or want it - when our minds are consumed with how much we might lose - when we have notions of what is great based on a greatness sustained through bias and preference and legislative actions, we need to ask some questions of the world around us. I think it would help us in those moments to consider: what did Jesus do - with whom did Jesus sit and eat - who were those other two on the crosses alongside Jesus - with whom did Jesus side within the systems of his day? In a particularly urgent way Jesus stepped into a world of people who held no power and were often consider less-than-welcome/worthy and he stayed there to take on the brunt of what would come from an established reign in which some folks were able to fit in - by birth - by ability - by knowledge - by physical attributes.

In a particularly urgent way there was no waiting for another day. In fact, that day was at hand and it was a day in which there would be no distinctions - no partiality. Having said that, we must be willing to see that we live in just such a day. Some things do not change in regard to systems that brew fear and insist on whipping up demons among us. We still have a propensity to find people who can become those people who we are able to tag in whatever manner will make us shine with a righteous glow. It is urgent for all of us who say we are followers of Jesus to get off of the high horse of privilege that has infected the very root system of the church and our culture. When we ride that horse, we do not even associate with the real world around us. Instead we ride away from it - we attempt to secure ourselves from its - we come up with well-formed strategies of serving those who are far away rather than living alongside and within the diversity of our own neighbors.

To be honest, somethings really are quite black and white. Some divides are indeed like great chasms over which no one can leap. There are topics we have called untouchable and people we insist must be untouchable as well. There is privilege that is so much a part of our lives we will not take a second look at our own lives with a critical eye. AND YET, we must.

Within this time - within our daily lives - within the words we speak - within each breath we take - we have been invited to turn the world upside down with a love that seeks the well-being of all - even if we think they do not deserve it. For as that takes place - as we enter into a life in which we question and make ourselves see the injustices of the day - as we listen and abide with and walk alongside those not like us - we may feel the breath of new life - the spirit of God - that is endlessly creating the peaceable Reign of God in a particularly urgent way among us.
TRRR

Uncovering Joy: Tales of Everyday Urban Spirituality (22 of 25)

Uncovering Joy – Transfiguration 

“Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah” – not knowing what he said. While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.” (Luke 9:28-36) 

It was supposed to be a short stop for some quick work. It was to be as it often was: cup of coffee, a bagel, and open up the computer before I was on my way to a meeting. The coffee shop was unusually crowded with people working at laptops. It was quiet and orderly and intense. As I was about to turn the corner and approach the table I usually try to grab to do some work, there they were. The three of them were standing on the cushion of the bench surrounding the table on which their muffins were scattered like seeds from a biblical story. 

I didn’t know who they were – but they were making sure that their presence was known. The Glory of the Lord shown all around them and I don’t think anyone was taking much note of it. All three of them were wearing hooded sweatshirts – or was it some kind of dazzling apparel?! One was in pink, one was in blue, the other was in red – and they were all clothed in life that was making the room glow from their little enclave in the coffee shop. What faces! What spirit! 

My order was place and payment was made and now I walked to the pick-up area to wait for my bagel to be toasted. It was then that I realized I was in the presence of the fullness of our humanity. Were these the three kings (actually two kings and a queen) bringing the treasure of our humanity right into the midst of this common place of people who have other things to do? I leaned against the shelves filled with newspapers and advertisements, crossed my arms over my chest, and watch the glory unfold. They were going about their business – laughing business, funny business, mischievous business, you’re-only-young-once business. I could only smile and keep watching. There was nothing else needed for the rest of the day. This was enough to sustain me and make me think of what was not - but could be. 

Well, as I stood there watching the glory shine, one of the three looked up to see me looking at them. Big smile – big eyes – I just had to give a wave. It was reciprocated. Worlds blended for a moment. Then they were back at being a team of humanity making much of little and singing out with voices that I could not understand but it was really quite an uplifting piece. Sometimes, we need only be in a distant place to receive the overflowing glory of God’s people when they are at play in the garden of life that can be so utterly full of wonder. 

These kind of divine displays often allow us to enter them and come closer and see things through another perspective. Sure enough, carrying my coffee and bagel back to my table I had to pass right by this small gathering of saints. Being cordial, I gave a simple “Hi!” I have learned over the years that a man with a beard can frighten children of this age so I make it as short as possible. They all look at me and one smiled, grabbed my attention, and said “Hi!” after which the other chimed in and then the other...and then, even after I had passed by, their “Hi!” was repeated as though it was the word of the day as I drifted off out of sight. 

So, is this a passing event? Am I making much of nothing? Was the tenor of my day one in which I was ripe for such a greeting from this realm of glory? Now that it has passed, what good was it and how will it be a part of my day as I continue on through all the rest of the ordinary stuff through which we all move each and every day? I can’t say. Then again, for a moment and in the moments that followed, I saw something amazing – something I too often look past so that I can go along to join in that which I have somehow deemed more worth my time. Even now, within this simple reflection, I realized that those three spilled life all over me. 

Special moments come even when we do not expect anything but the common to appear. On another day and in another mood or within an agenda that would not settle for such an extravagant experience, I may have moved on down the road toward whatever was next on my “to do” list. I know that happens quite a bit – maybe too often. Unfortunately, the training within our adventures in life does not let us take advantage of what is put in front of us. Coming across those three was like standing on a lawn and having someone turn on the sprinkler that is just a few feet away. Wham! Be present...be alive...be joy-filled, and be ready to have the Reign of God draw us out of ourselves and introduce a bit of glory – ordinary glory. 

I don’t expect that I will ever have an experience like the one of the Transfiguration that are shared with us by some of the gospel writers. Unfortunately, when I think like that, I am already saying something that eliminates opportunities filled with surprise and wonder and imagination. As people who are beloved by God, the most common of places and times can be and will be transfigured in order to bring us in touch with the whole story of God’s ongoing creative power. Like Peter and John and James, we may feel as though we just want to go to sleep even during the unfolding of God’s glory. And yet, even as we go to sleep, the glory still shines. We do not have any control over how much and how often the glory of God will brilliantly shining and make a scene among us. In those moments, nothing is demanded of us. We can look on and be overwhelmed and have nothing to say but mere babbling. Isn’t that a form of prayer – being so caught up in the presence of God that we do not even need or have words that fit the event? 

Laughter is not too far away from crying...or is it the other way around? Wouldn’t a full experience of the glory of life be those in which such apparent opposites crash in on one another? Well those glorious three in the coffee shop settled down into a bit of whining and crying. It was time to go and they were not ready to step down from that table bench. It took a few minutes of transforming those wide smiles into floor-dragging frowns before they were ready to be led out the door. How could I not look up from my work as the parade passed by! The smiles were gone and my initial wave to the leader of the pack went unacknowledged as though he was saying – “what are you smiling about buddy?” The final moments of eye-to-eye contact with the last one reminded me that our days can indeed move from one place to another in a matter of moments and then - it is as though they vanish.

It is in the telling of these simple stories that we can remind ourselves to look up again. I don’t care if you are a big-picture person or a detail person, the details can stretch us out into the big picture and the big picture can bring us into the fullness of life within a few details. What is most important is that we are willing to venture out of our picture and seen more than what we have let ourselves see. It will be those moments that move us to see and hear and be present in the glory of God’s Reign among us. More and more, when joy spills out into the room, it never ruins the day. Rather, we may well be shaken or stirred up so that we become open to how God is always spilling out life that will revolutionize our ordinary vision. 

Those disciples who came down off the mountaintop had an experience that was “way out there.” It would not be the norm within what was the ordinary of their peasant lives – at least not for awhile. After time passes, they will learn to see the glory of God all around them even when Jesus is dead and gone. We know that they will become the church that continues to shine just as those three heroes of old on the mountaintop. They would see the possibility of life full of joy and spilling out around them and being spilled out by them. We all need to find ways to be at home within the glory of God that we are told is so available we may walk right by it on our way to what we think are bigger and better things. 

Can laughing children – crying children – be a passageway leading to the Lord of all Hopefulness? I would say yes. More than that, I would bet that we – despite our desires and needs – are having the Reign of God spilled on us through our lives and we most often…don't even realize it is taking place. Unlike Peter, remember that we are invited to simply take it in and learn a bit about the Glory of God. There needs to be no outcome – no monument erected. We are invited to take that glory and continue to see it over and over again. 

TRRR

Can Old Words - Offer New Life? Let the wind blow

The historic creeds of the church do not thrill many folks - not many folks even want to continue saying them in worship. In many ways I climb into that boat also. And yet, I am now thinking that the only reason I have question the  recitation of the creeds is that I have lost my sense of faithful imagination. Images used in the past may turn old - even too old to help us recall the power that brought people to use them in the first place. Let me share what happened to me today.

In worship we were directed to join in and recite the Nicene Creed (that is the longer of the two that are used in congregations that recite the creeds). I went along with the direction. And then, in the last line of the creed I heard life - I felt alive - I realized how much life I have right at hand - I thought about moving forward without the baggage of the past. I took in exactly what the third article of the creed was lifting up for all of us: a deep breath of air - a holy reminder of life at hand - a power that is meant to bring into being the life that the powers of death simply hate: a life of nonviolence - a life of self-sacrificing love - a life of mercy without end - a life full of hope for how we will be transformed from day to day into a people whose lives do not simply repeat the lives we have been living - a life of forgiveness for all.

In the last half of the last line of the creed we say: the life of the world to come. We say those words as a completion of the whole sentence's imagery. The whole thought goes like this: We look for the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come. As a people whose lives are full of God's creative wind, it is vitally important for us to keep in mind - that which has been declared dead - that which has hawked the empty promises of death - that which has endured the lies of death's power - that which has violated the wonder and glory of our humanity - and call it out as being powerless among us. That is called the resurrection of the dead.

Within the wind of God's creativity, the power of death that tries to whip us up into a frenzy of hate and disorder and abuse and revenge and violence and unbound desire becomes nothing more than a limp attempt at life - a bravado of self-consumption and self-adoration that is only able to cause death. So with a bit of imagination we think about life that is to come - life that can spring even from the domain of death. I find that - to be a breath of fresh air. Even when I am being consumed by the bullshit of death's imitation of power and I long to have a piece of it for myself, there is a promise of resurrection of the dead. New life is always at the doorstep. I will not be lost in the abyss of desire that keeps the seeds of death growing within me. Rather, even death will face resurrection. Yes, even all the bullshit that attempts to suck the wind out of the life of the world around me - will experience resurrection. That is a promise that blows my mind. It is a promise out of my control for if I claim to be in control of such a wild, life-blowing event it will be another sign of how I am a devotee of death's rule.

Therefore we say the life of the world to come. Beyond the power of death is life. Within this day, that promise of life lifts us up so that we will breathe in the power that death simply cannot overcome. The promise of the life of the world to come is the breath that is full of the kind of imagination that somehow moves - cowards like me - anxious souls like me - back-turning, back-stabbing wimps like me - unforgiving fools like me - to resist that which comes so naturally to me. Ah, the life of the world to come - it is coming - it is a promise - it is eternally available - it is that which was and is and will be - even when I dare not go there. Resurrection of the dead simply means we are alive within a promise that expands our lives into the unbounded realm of the kind of creativity that restores that which has been corrupted - heals that which has been wounded and thus now only knows how to wound others - embraces that which we have been pushing away from us - sacrifices that which we once thought we must have as our own.

Now I wonder about how things will take shape for me. Will I remain within the allure of death's claim on life? Will I take time - all along the way and within each day - to look for the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. Blow me away with that thought and restore a breath of new life within me.
TRRR

Religious Trip Advisors - an eternal hoax

Imagine all the money churches would lose if they stopped serving as trip advisors - you know - this is how to get to heaven - this is how to get to hell. That trip advising too often seems to be the beginning and the end of the message. In some places that is all that you will hear. It may come to you through a grading system you can use to discover for yourself the way to one place or the other place. It may come as the complete bastardization of the intent of the ten commandments so that they are used to keep you in control of the journey you want to take. It may come as a thunder of threat to frighten or a syrupy sweetness to attract. I may come as the saving message that will bring you eternal joy - always couched in language of another time and place.

Imagine going to worship and never being told of a place other than here - this life - this day. Imagine going to worship at a place that does not make us wonder about the great by-and-by and how we can get there. Imagine taking part in a study of Scripture and it is not about leaving here or being left behind. Imagine hearing stories of people who lived out of love and never fear. Trip advisors always seem to have the plan for your journey into the bosom of Abraham - or not. Hmm.

I remember being the host pastor for a International Pentecostal Conference at our congregation. Our church was a safe place because for decades, we were what is called a Reconciling in Christ congregation in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. That simply means we publicly stated and then lived within the reality that the saints among us who are LGBTQ are always saints among us and with us - without question. This Pentecostal conference was for LGBTQ folks who also identified as Pentecostals. I was told that those are usually contrary identifications.

Well, in a discussion with several of the pastors, I brought up Bishop Carlton Pearson. He was a Pentecostal Bishop prominently known in the worldwide Pentecostal movement. But he also had become a Bishop exorcized from his communion. He had come out as a Pentecostal clergy who could no longer serve as a trip advisor. No more 'how do we get to heaven - how do we stay out of hell' - no more talk about another place to which we are meant to be. No more 'spiritual coercion' that leaves people either boasting or gloating or too often - rejected. Instead, he preaches about life within - what I call - the Reign of God - which is ife now - life that is the place and time for us to be the followers of Jesus - the radicalized movement of grace - the overwhelming power of forgiveness - the eternal gift of life that has no end and is already at hand.

The response was clear. They said they disagreed with that. Hell and Heaven are essential to the preaching of the faith. Really? And what faith might that be? Obviously it is one that needs trip advisors - travel agents - and off course - the fees you must pay to become an informed traveler. Yet, the final destination is never seen - it just hangs out there like a carrot or a hangman's noose. By the way, you can tune into those wise trip advisors weekly - or read one of their devotional books.

Here is one way I see this heaven and hell thing. I really think that I often am walking around in a hell-like world that is also a part of the in-breaking of all we hear of heaven's glory. When I am willing and able to open my eyes and not look away from the brutality of life - from the pervasive gestures of prejudice and bias to the unthinkable actions of tyrants, here I stand - right inside the gates of hell. And yet, at the same time - or moments within that time - I see and hear the utter presence of life that has been depicted as life within heaven's gates. This is life in which we are provided with a lens that gives us the vision to see that which is not yet present even as the world spins around in its own violence and degradation. Here I stand - Here I am invited to act as though enemies have no power because I will not be seduced to see them as enemies. Here I am available to be a presence of peace that will not fall for the words and deeds that so often make life a living hell for all of us.

I suppose I would suggest that we all stand in the same place. The journey is not a way out of this place. It is a way that leads us more deeply into the hell-holes that can be transformed into a the peaceable Reign of God (my way of saying heaven). This is a journey in which we drop the stones we so often like to throw - that simply add to the hellishness around us - and listen and touch and lean into that from which we so often are told to flee. It is much easier to throw those stones - especially if we are wanting to get on board the train that will take us away from those-kind-of-folks and take us to a better place - as we want it with our-kind-of-folks. We must remember the those stones can become instruments that become the building blocks for a new life - a new day - a new community. In the midst of such life, we will see that vision that seems a bit dream-like in the book of Revelation when the new Jerusalem comes down to earth - for this is where it was always intended to be - the City of God always present - for all.

No power can displace that vision. No trip advisor is needed. The Reign of God comes down to us to transform us. We need more people who announce its coming - its availability - its gift of life - its breath of fresh air. When the Reign comes down - it will be some Reign indeed. So let it shine baby - let it shine.
TRRR