re:generation

Thoughts on the Recent ELCA Assembly

2009-08-27T07:15:00.002-04:00

Here's my most recent article for the Redeemer Tidings:

It is a challenging time to be the church, indeed. Please note the following news release, from the ELCA New Service, August 21, 2009:

The 2009 Churchwide Assembly of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) voted today to open the ministry of the church to gay and lesbian pastors and other professional workers living in committed relationships.

The action came by a vote of 559-451 at the highest legislative body of the 4.6 million member denomination. Earlier the assembly also approved a resolution committing the church to find ways for congregations that choose to do so to "recognize, support and hold publicly accountable life-long, monogamous, same gender relationships," though the resolution did not use the word "marriage."

The actions here change the church's policy, which previously allowed people who are gay and lesbian into the ordained ministry only if they remained celibate.

Throughout the assembly, which opened Aug. 17, the more than 1,000 voting members have debated issues of human sexuality. On Wednesday they adopted a social statement on the subject as a teaching tool and policy guide for the denomination.

Some within our midst have been tracking these proposals very closely and will be troubledby these decisions. "How can this church act contrary to what is clear in the Bible?" they will say. (A challenging argument since we routinely contextualize and ignore many of scripture's ancient injunctions!) Some, on the other hand, will welcome this decision, seeing this as a victory for justice, seeing here signs of a more inclusive, welcoming church. Others still may remain conflicted and confused on the issue, desiring to respect Scripture and the tradition of the church but who are nevertheless personally affected, for whom homosexuality is not an evil "out there" but a reality in their families, communities, and perhaps within themselves.

The ELCA has been trying hard throughout this process to respect both sides of the debate, and, in its own words, to find ways to live together faithfully despite our differences. But still, there will be many whose conscience is greatly troubled, who will wonder how they can, in good conscience, remain within the ranks of the ELCA.

What does this mean for us? Alongside these decisions on ministry policy, the Churchwide Assembly also passed a resolution which would respect the "bound conscience" of those who disagree with these changes. Bound conscience was something to which Martin Luther appealed during the Reformation, and it has to do with the premise that, where there are differing interpretations of scripture regarding a moral issue, one cannot force one's conclusion upon another whose conscience is bound by an alternate view. Dr. Timothy Wengert, of the Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia, provided some helpful remarks on this point:

Respect for the bound conscience does not mean that one can simply declare one’s conscience to be bound to a particular interpretation of Scripture, and then make everybody else deal with it. Respecting bound conscience is not a form of selfishness or an excuse to sin. Instead, it means that the very people who hold different, opposing viewpoints on a particular moral issue based upon their understanding of Scripture, tradition and reason must recognize the bound conscience of the other, of their neighbor who disagrees with them, and then work in such ways as not to cause that other person to reject the faith and fellowship in Word and Sacrament. (from "Remarks Concerning Bound Conscience" by Dr. Timothy Wengert, 2009)

The assembly's acted under the banner of respect for bound conscience. In this case this means that synods and congregations who disagree with the change in policy, who are bound by their conscience, will not be forced to act contrary to their conscience (i.e. to accept gay and lesbian persons living in committed relationships as pastors.) But, of course, this begs the question: how are these decisions made within synods and within congregations where there is a considerable diversity of opinion and belief?

Much conversation and dialogue is needed in the coming weeks and months around this issue; to that end we will be holding an initial dialogue session on Wednesday, September 9th (with two sessions, 12 Noon and 7:30 PM.) I envision this as an opportunity for mutual understanding, under that same banner of respect for bound conscience. I have also requested the Church Council to begin to consider how we will address this issue in the coming months.

Those who desire to understand more about the Assembly's actions will do well to check out the resources on the ELCA's web site, www.elca.org/assembly.

In conclusion, some thoughts from the ELCA's presiding bishop, Mark Hanson, in his concluding remarks to the Assembly:

...we need one another. We need time. We need the voices of those who lament and those who rejoice over these actions, for together we have been called to proclaim the Good News of Jesus Christ and engage in God’s mission for the life of the world...

I invite you into important, thoughtful, prayerful conversation about what all of this means for our life in mission together. What is absolutely important for me is that we have this conversation together.

We meet one another finally -- not in our agreements or our disagreements -- but at the foot of the cross, where God is faithful, where Christ is present with us, and where, by the power of the Holy Spirit, we are one in Christ.

Amen.

Grace to you, and peace!

Contemplating New Life

2009-05-19T12:41:00.002-04:00

As part of our community's celebration of Resurrection, some of us have been exploring the theme more deeply through N.T. Wright's book, Surprised By Hope. We probably shouldn't be amazed that the more we go at it, the more it seems the Resurrection (that of Jesus as well as that for all creation) brings with it new energy, new possibilities. Pity that the Church is usually too tired or busy to think much about it.

For those who are curious to know more and aren't likely to go out and actually buy the book (it can be a little dense for the uninitiated!) I offer some online links for N.T. Wright resources. Most of this stuff can be had (for free!)on his web site, www.ntwrightpage.com. In addition, here's a few things for your iPod. (It can help make fruitful your morning commute!)

Two lectures on Resurrection: "Resurrection and the Future World," and "Resurrection and the Task of the Church." Given at the Church of the Holy Spirit, Roanoke, VA.

The Future of the People of God. A series of 4 terrific, sprawling lectures given to a gathering of "emerging church" leaders in 2005. (4 MP3s.)

What an Idea!

2008-04-24T11:22:00.000-04:00

Several years ago I was working on the staff of a week-long summer camp. One night, while the children were settling in under the watchful eyes of their counselors, the program staff—a mix of clergy and lay folks—were kibitzing in the staff cabin. I don’t remember the details of the conversation, but it most likely had to do with the various and ever-present frustrations inherent in working with kids and faith.

It was late and the evening was coming to a close. Anxieties and frustrations were not going to be solved that night. Just then—out of the blue—one of the staff suggested something that sounded (quite frankly) weird: “Does anyone want to pray?”

Pray? The whole week-long program for the kids consisted of regular intervals for prayer (even a noble effort to instill in them an appreciation for the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer), but that was on the level of camp program. But prayer for us? Unplanned? Spontaneous? What an idea!

It was a valuable lesson for us all, especially for us adults who sometimes expect more from our children than we expect from ourselves. So pray we did (the night prayer called compline) and the evening ended with great peace, having given all our anxieties and frustrations into God’s care.

Does it ever occur to us to pray? I don’t mean at typical times, such as before meals or perhaps as part of a discipline of personal devotion, but right there in the middle of life with its joys and frustrations? In the life of the Church, prayer outside of worship is a matter of common practice, usually at the beginning and the end of a meeting or a bible study. But only once in my time here have I ever had someone suggest—in the heat of disagreement or conflict—“why don’t we pray?” Talk about radical!

Prayers rise up from our hearts quite spontaneously when we face grave danger or crisis, but perhaps less so when faced with the ordinary (and sometimes significant) confusion of life. In the course of our daily life we are bombarded with choices. What would happen if we took the time to sincerely ask, “Which way, Lord?” What would happen if we took the time to listen (in the quiet of our hearts) for the response?

Scripture encourages us over and over again to “pray without ceasing,” to “call upon God in every need,” to “cast all our anxiety on Him.” Notice the sense of the absolute in these verses: all the time; every need; all our anxiety. We, in our shortsightedness, can be pretty picky about what we bother to pray about.

What we need most is to let go of our fear and follow Jesus in the way of prayer. We need it in our homes and also in our church community. At Redeemer, the re:Imagine planning process has led us to a certain point, with a myriad of options and choices; now is the time of discernment. Which way, Lord? Have we taken upon ourselves an attitude and practice of prayer? Do we ask for direction, do we expect a response, and do we listen to hear it?

I am excited about all the possibilities that lie ahead for this congregation, but I am ever more in awe of our reliance on God’s grace to make possibilities realities. I am learning that there is a time for rolling up our sleeves, but not without significant time on our knees.

Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. –Philippians 4:6

+ tjk

A People on a Journey

2008-01-22T20:26:00.000-05:00

"My feet hurt!" "We're hungry!" "Are we there yet?" Voices on a hiking trip with young children? Maybe. Or maybe voices of people on a journey through a wild place.

It is our story, after all. Consider the people of Israel back in the Old Testament. It's hard to believe that not long after being rescued miraculously through the parted Red Sea they were soon enough grumbling and murmuring and generally just misbehaving. "We had it better back there in Egypt," they said. "At least we knew where our food was coming from!"

When God leads a people into something new, it's not always an easy journey. Feet get tired. People get irritable. Some wrong turns are taken. Faith is tested. Lessons are learned.

Another image comes to mind. Fast forward a couple thousand years later. John the Baptizer, something of a new Moses, telling people to go ahead and get wet and go through the waters of the Jordan into something new. The kingdom of God is near! Prepare the way of the Lord! You would think the religious folk would be leading the way on that trip. Hardly so. The "religious" folk weren't sure what to make of that. It's a dangerous trip. The road appears uncertain. Everything familiar and safe is left behind.

Again, when God lead a people into something new, it's a strange, new journey.

The biblical stories of journeying people are powerful to me, because they speak the truth of our situation. Yes, right here in New Jersey 2008. Because we are God's people, saints all the way, called by name to embody God's life in the world. And (paradoxically) we're sinners all the way, too; stiff-necked and stubborn people who don't necessarily want to go where God might happen to lead. When God leads a people into something new...

Unfortunately, the Church (or at least the institution called the Church) is not always best set up to be led into something new. But newness is a dynamic that is woven throughout the scriptures. It's all about transformation, being led into something new: slavery into freedom; fishermen into apostles; brokenness into wholeness; death into life.

And us? Pity that we in the church often domesticate the Christian message into something merely about my spirituality, or my personal salvation, or my morality. The wild, untamed message of the scriptures is a message of radical transformation. Think of all the images. New life. Resurrection. A new heavens and a new earth. Freedom for the captive. Good news to the poor. Healing for the wounded.

Can we recapture that? Can we allow ourselves to be changed, to go through the water of repentance again, and open ourselves to be led into something new? Something new for our hearts? Something new for our families and our relationships? Something new for our community? Something new for our church? When God leads a people into something new...

Again, we find ourselves on the threshold of another Lent, another springtime. Will we go through the motions? Will we play it safe, journeying only over familiar territory? Or will we listen to the voice of the one who calls us into something new?

Advent Reflections

2007-11-21T22:42:00.000-05:00

No one can celebrate
a genuine Christmas
without being truly poor.
The self-sufficient, the proud,
those who, because they have
everything, look down on others,
those who have no need
even of God—for them there
will be no Christmas.
Only the poor, the hungry,
those who need someone
to come on their behalf,
will have that someone.
That someone is God.
Emmanuel. God-with us.
Without poverty of spirit
there can be no abundance of God.

- Oscar Romero

This week America begins its mad dash toward Christmas. Or, I should say, America accelerates its mad dash; the move toward the holiday season began some weeks ago. And no, this isn’t the usual anti-commercialism-of-Christmas rant. My dear newsletter reader, you have certainly read enough of those. This year I want to be decidedly pro-Advent.

Advent is a season often misunderstood, a prelude to Christmas festivities. When Advent comes across as merely a liturgical preparation for the celebration of Christmas, it is really nothing more than the Church’s version of the shopping season. Busy, busy, busy, with all the things that need to be done: Christmas pageants, decorating, and all the rest. Alas, another spiritual wasteland!

But Advent is much richer than that, and decidedly counter-cultural. As the Church, we can begin to reclaim a bit of the heart of Christmas by finding some rest and nourishment here in Advent. It’s not so much an anticipation of Christmas Day (Macy’s takes care of that just fine) but rather an anticipation of Christ’s future coming, his Second Advent. The scripture lessons for the season bear this out, speaking of that great and promised time when the nations “shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks,” (Isaiah 2) and when “the earth will be full of the knowledge of the LORD as the waters cover the sea.” (Isaiah 11) “The day is near,” says St. Paul, and he’s not speaking of a magical Christmas morning, as lovely and wonderful as that is; he is speaking of the true day, the coming of the light that shines in the darkness. Advent returns us again to this hope, looking back at the coming of the Savior in Bethlehem, looking forward to his reappearing in glory. It is the hope of creation restored, evil vanquished, and death defeated. Even the most glorious Radio City Christmas show pales in comparison.

Be still, the scripture admonishes us. Tall order, this time of year! Without poverty of spirit, without coming to terms with our deep need and longing for the living God, here and now, it is not possible to celebrate Christmas. I pray that you find—in the midst of the bustle of the season—some inner space, a moment of quiet, perhaps a pang of spiritual hunger. May these short days be filled with great hope, and may that ancient Christian prayer be never far from our lips, “Come, Lord Jesus!”

Seeds in the City

2007-07-26T05:48:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I feel very, very small.

That feeling may just be another symptom of encroaching middle age. In youth, if the world doesn't revolve around you at least you feel like a pretty big player in it. Invincible. Eternal. The older you get (I've come to discover) the smaller you get. The world becomes impossibly large. You, a speck, a drop in the sea of time and space.

These are not, perhaps, the kinds of thoughts one is expected to have in the company of teenagers on a church trip. But this particular trip - service in New York City - kindled just those kinds of thoughts for me. On one hand, a city of amazing proportions, people everywhere, millions of intesecting intentions, motivations and beliefs, the inevitable glimpses of terrible human brokenness. On the other, tiny, seemingly insignificant acts of kindness.

And so who are we to imagine that picking up a paintbrush is going to make much a difference to anyone? And cleaning out some damp church basement? How does that reflect the kingdom? How does that impact the world?

In human terms probably not very much. But, as it is said, we are not called to greatness; we are called to faithfulness. The kingdom of God, in this regard, is rather a small thing.

Jesus understood smallness. After all, he spoke of the mustard seed, the smallest of all seeds. He spoke of a little yeast leavening the whole dough. He spoke of a little cup of water given to one who is thirsty, an act of heavenly proportions.

We're not called to greatness; we're called to faithfulness. In a sense you might say we are called to smallness. In our care of the small things we are trusting God in a big way.

It seems to me that many folks struggle to make sense of what it means to follow Jesus in our world. Perhaps the idea seems so impossibly huge, so beyond reach, best left to the experts. But we would do well to reflect on that little mustard seed. A tiny thing, like the thousands of moments each day, so ordinary and insignificant. Seeds of the kingdom.

Be small. Follow Jesus.

+ tjk

Reflections on the Great Vigil

2007-06-14T06:43:00.000-04:00

Easter is already a few months behind us, but I thought a few shots of the Easter Vigil set-up would be interesting. The Vigil (which begins as dusk on the Holy Saturday, the day before Easter) is actually the first note of resurrection in the church's liturgy. For me, it's the highpoint of the liturgical year.

I would have preferred to have some pics of the actual service but they would've been hard to come up with. Snapping pictures during worship isn't the best idea, plus the fact the lights are pretty low throughout. But here are some pictures of the set-up in the Fellowship Hall at Redeemer. We process into this space (from the "new fire" on the lawn) to the service of readings, all 12 of them! All in candlelight.

This is actually a shot from the children's service on Good Friday.

Putting Christ Back in Life

2006-12-22T11:35:00.000-05:00

It is somewhat fashionable, around this time of year, for those in my position to get up on a soapbox and rail against the overblown celebration of Christmas. The season’s tizzy has already begun. It begins a few hours after Halloween when the Santas and the tinsel begin making their appearance, and the great commercial holiday machine begins its groaning toward its (hopefully) most profitable time of the year. And the put-the-Christ-back-in-Christmas crowd also gears up also for its annual struggle. It’s not a crowd to which I necessarily belong.

I am becoming less and less interested in “Christmas criticism,” to be honest. First of all, I happen to like all the lights; the more over-the-top the better. And as for the shopping…well…I do my best to avoid the mall just about every time of year. Besides, how can you get too upset about a day when people give things to each other? And as for church services, I’m not even going to complain about those who only worship on Christmas; given all the folks who never go to church, isn’t it wonderful that some people come to worship at least once or twice a year!

The fact is that most of what we associate with our culture’s celebration Christmas really doesn’t have much to do with Jesus at all and frankly never has. If you want to discover the reason behind most of our cultural Christmas observances, just look out the window. It’s cold and dark out there! People need—deep down—something to lighten up the darkness, a reason to feel good about life at the onset of winter. Much of our cultural ado around Christmas actually has more to do with ancient pagan practices which surrounded the winter solstice. If—in the 4th century—the Emperor Constantine had decreed the celebration of Christ’s birth to be during the summer, we would have found some other reason to string the lights and give gifts and set up trees indoors.

So, if you get the feeling that Christ is obscured this time of year, remember that that’s the way it’s always been. The Savior came, but hardly anyone noticed; a babe born in a barn! The natural inclination for our culture is to make a big show of it, to “deck the hall” and all that jazz, but the God who deigned to become one of us did so in hiddenness and humility. The true light came into the world, but the world did not recognize it. That’s still true today. And yet, somewhere in the middle of all the hubbub of the season, the people of God gather together in the quietness and darkness of the winter gloom and sing “joy to the world, the Lord has come!” That’s not just good news; to most of the world, that’s truly news!

Putting Christ back in Christmas and showing up for church on Christmas Eve is terrific, but far more important are the weeks that follow, when the pine needles are swept up, the lights taken down, and all the new toys piled up with the one ones. It’s in those ordinary moments that Christ really needs to be. In other words, the true light of the world has come; what are we going to do about it? That’s the question which gives impulse and energy to our mission, to invite our world to follow Jesus.

And so I invite you to join with us, in this Advent and Christmas season and beyond, as we journey together in the way of Jesus. The light has come into the world, and the darkness has not overcome it.

Cultivating Mission

2006-06-23T14:52:00.000-04:00

This past week I uttered a phrase that I never would have imagined uttering. Standing beside our newly paved parking lot, a smooth sea of steaming blackness, I thought to myself, “What a beautiful parking lot!” Others joined my joy and said the same. As un-theological as I am generally about parking lots this one is something to give thanks for, and we can all thank the efforts of Kerry Roselle, Bill Rohmann, and the rest of the Property and Maintenance Committee for making it possible.

While a group of us were discussing the layout of the lines with one of the contractors, we spoke of the placement of new “visitor” spots. The contractor seemed puzzled. “Why do you need visitor spots?” A good question, really, and one that I am sure many of you are asking.

The simple answer has to do with cultivating a sense of mission. There is (hopefully) a clear message sent, not only to outsiders but also to ourselves, that a vital aspect of the church’s mission in our world has to do with invitation and welcome. A church which reserves parking spaces for its leaders may be motivated by a well-intentioned sense of respect, but it may also send the message that the most important people in the church are its pastors. On the other hand, prime parking spots dedicated to visitors sends the message that the most important people in our midst are our guests. That’s thinking in terms of mission.

So the next time you are tempted to irritation over those great parking spaces which may, on any given Sunday, be vacant, let that be a reminder of our mission, to invite our world to follow Jesus. Invite a friend or two to church, and let them know there is a special place waiting for them!

That ethic of invitation will also be emphasized in July by our next Invite-a-Friend event, an outdoor service at 10 AM on July 2nd, followed by an ice cream social, on the Unneberg Lawn. We encourage you, in the spirit of mission and invitation, to invite someone you know to worship on that day. Your invitation might seem like such a small thing—like a mustard seed, perhaps—but it is part of living out our wider mission, of inviting our world to follow Jesus. For here, in this grace-filled community of Jesus, there is peace, shade and rest.

Go and Follow Jesus

2006-06-16T14:59:00.000-04:00

“Who are we? What are we doing here? What is this church-thing all about?” These might seem to be strange questions coming from me. Surely I know what we’re doing here. (Or at least, you would think, I should know!) But in my view these are not such strange questions. Over time, organizations and institutions have a tendency to lose sight of their reason to be, and, without careful attention to matters of mission, they can get muddled, confused and off-track.

These are not strange questions for the Church Universal, or for this expression of it in this time and place. On one level, there is a obvious purpose for our gathering: a people gathered around Word and Sacrament. But that still leaves open the question: Why? For what purpose? Are we merely another religious club, dallying with these God-things for our own sake? (One might, I dare-say, get that impression!) Or is God accomplishing something--doing something--not merely for our sake and our personal spiritual enrichment but for the sake of the world?

Sometimes things come into focus without our even realizing it. It was about year ago on the final day of Sunday School that we gathered the children around the font. The theme of the children’s story that day was “mission,” and as they were dismissed they were blessed with the waters of baptism, signed with the cross, and given a very clear mission: “Go and follow Jesus in all you do.” Or, in other words, go and be disciples. As you have been blessed, now be a blessing.

The year since has been filled with the never-ending work of ministry and the usual liturgical cycle, but now with those questions--”who are we?” and “what are we called to do?”-- still echoing on the edges of conversations and rattling around inside sermons. I assembled a “vision team” to work with those questions. We prayed and talked and prayed some more. We made lists and wrote statements. We invited others into the conversation. And so what a surprise to find myself at the place where I started a year ago. “Go and follow Jesus in all you do.” Seems simple and basic, but such is usually the case in speaking of mission.

If we want to catch a vision of the what church is really all about, it helps to look at the story of Pentecost, the birthday of the Church. The disciples were gathered, praying (perhaps navel-gazing), not quite sure what to do next in those weird, uncharted days after the Resurrection. Then the Holy Spirit burst upon them with great energy and verve for the mission that Jesus himself gave them: “Go, make disciples of all nations, baptizing them...” It wasn’t a matter of some memory of Jesus that they had somehow to convey to others, by their own ability. No, the gift of the Holy Spirit was (and is!) the power of God loose in the world. Caught up in that power, they were now emboldened and empowered to do what Jesus said they would: be my witnesses. Jesus had given them the clear mission: “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” Luther himself caught that vision: we are called to be “little Christs,” not for our sake but for the sake of the world.

In these coming days of Pentecost, I invite you to consider your faith in terms of mission. Mission is sometimes a difficult concept for us to grasp, as most of us grew up with the notion that “mission” was something that “missionaries” were involved in, in some far-off place called the “mission-field.” That may have been more-or-less accurate at the beginning of the 20th century, but here in the 21st, the church finds itself in a cultural setting not unlike that of the 1st century: wildly pluralistic, diverse, and generally with no idea who Jesus is or what the Kingdom of God is all about. Our mission is daunting, but we do not attempt it without help. Jesus himself said, “But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses.” (Acts 1:8)

How do we--as a church and as individuals--live faith in terms of mission? I believe the key is discipleship, by following Jesus. Following Jesus isn’t done in isolation, for a few minutes on Sunday morning. Following Jesus calls us to bear witness to God’s love through our living, in the very ordinary context of daily life. It is missional, because through it our lives become living witnesses to the grace of God, for the sake of the world.

Discipleship need not be so complicated. In this coming season of Pentecost, we will lift up these 7 dimensions of discipleship as concrete practices for mission: In Baptism, we are called to pray daily, worship regularly, study the scriptures, invite others to the community of Jesus, encourage and serve our neighbor, and to give as God has given to us.
Simple as that, and as rich as that. We are called to be disciples, and to make disciples, for the sake of the world, for God so loved the world that he sent his Son, and God’s Son now sends us. Go, and follow Jesus is all you do, and in the power of the Holy Spirit bid others to follow, too.

Sacred Play

2006-03-23T10:06:00.000-05:00

These days one of the greatest challenges I face is not so much work as it is play, specifically, playing with my children. I never would have imagined play to be so difficult, but I’m finding that, as I get older, playing (at least the kind of playing done by the likes of 3 and 5 year olds) can be…well…just another form of hard work. And, in our house, Mom and Dad are expected to participate.

For all its challenges, I continue to be amazed at the play of my children. These past winter months meant extended time indoors; they also meant that the house was in total disarray, from top to bottom. Toys, blankets, books…a real mess. Frankly, as long as their play was peaceable, this wasn’t too much of an issue. Peace-amid-clutter is preferable to any sort of disharmony, in my opinion.

I’ve noticed certain themes reappearing in their play. Play is, after all, a form of drama. There is usually some sort of crisis involved. Imaginary rock slides of cascading blankets and pillows. Terrible storms wrecking havoc upon cities of blocks. Trains toppling over crumbling bridges. There are the variations of the cops-and-robbers theme: stories populated with good guys and (of course) bad guys, locked in eternal struggle. And, if there are moments of defeat in their play, there will soon come eventual redemption and victory. The good guys, after all, always win.

These themes—crisis, seeming defeat, eventual victory—are deeply imbedded in the fabric of their imaginary universe. I am not so sure where these themes are developed in their minds; probably through stories we tell, books and (who knows?) maybe even the television. They not only perceive these dramatic themes but they also live them out through their play, enacting little dramas, whether with toy trains, stuffed animals, whatever they can animate with their imaginations. And by playing, they are wound up in the story they create. They become, in some sense, the story they tell. Only through time and experience will these stories unfold in their own reality. Life is (as most adults will admit) a reality of crisis, seeming defeat, and (hopefully) moments of victory despite it all.

In the coming weeks, the Church enacts—or shall we say plays—these very themes. We probably don’t think often of our worship life as “play,” but that might be a good way to think about it. After all, we already live in the reality of the Resurrection; yet we play Holy Week, immersing ourselves in that sacred story of the crisis of sin, seeming defeat of the cross, the victory of the resurrection. It’s not just a liturgical exercise. It’s a re-telling and a re-enacting of a sacred story, much in the same way children will re-enact their favorite stories. By letting ourselves be drawn into the story, say, of Jesus washing his disciples’ feet, or the agony of Gethsemane, or indeed, the astonishing discovery of the empty tomb on that first Easter, we claim our place in the story. It’s not simply the story about Jesus and his followers who lived in a faraway time and a faraway place; it’s our story. By playing it out we rediscover the crisis of our humanness, the seeming defeat in the face of death, and the astonishing reality of victory through the resurrection of Jesus.

As another holy season comes upon us, let us allow ourselves to be astonished again at this, our story. Let us allow ourselves to experience the tension and intimacy at the table with Jesus, confronted by his call to radical love. Let us sink to the depths of our deepest brokenness, revealed and experienced in his cross. And let us rise and shine—again—with the astonishing news that he is not dead, but he is risen! This is the glorious good news! Let us play it out, and then (most importantly) let us live it out!

+ Pastor Tom Kildea

Reflections on Ash Wednesday

2006-03-03T09:22:00.000-05:00

At our Ash Wednesday liturgies, those words, remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return, were repeated again and again as 100+ people were marked with ashen crosses. I don't know why this year that image has been particularly profound to me. A real counter-cultural ritual, this. Especially moving was marking my wife and 3 year old with that reminder of death. If that doesn't put Lent into some perspective, I don't know what will.

Someone asked me on Wednesday, "how long are we supposed to keep this on our foreheads?" I recalled the inconsistency I felt on past Ash Wednesdays, with Matthew 6 still ringing in our ears ("be careful not to parade your piety..."), while Christians walked around with this cross for all to see. Should we not do as the gospel commands? Wash our faces, and get on with life with our hearts rent, not our clothing/ourward appearance?

for your listening enjoyment and edification...

2006-02-24T11:35:00.000-05:00

I made a comment not too long ago by the disconnectedness of people walking around with earphones dangling from their heads. I also mentioned that I (much to my own horror!) have a similar affliction. But honestly, more often than not, I am walking around not with some head-throbbing music blasting in my ears, but with some biblical lecture or sermon. Proof once again that I'm in the right business!

Here's a couple of things in digital audio format that I have found interesting. I can only direct you to the files themselves; I offer no support on how to get the thing on your MP3 player. Suffer that on your own.

Lately, I've been listening and reading quite of bit of N.T. Wright, an Anglican bishop and a prominent New Testament Scholar. Here's a series of lectures that he delivered for a group called "Emergent," a movement geared toward the post-modern church.

Lecture 1
Lecture 2
Lecture 3
Lecture 4

Here are a few others, also by Wright. I'm not sure the context, but you can check out www.ntwrightpage.com and probably figure it out. Regardless, some really interesting biblical prespectives.

Jesus and the Kingdom
Jesus and the Cross
Jesus and God
Jesus, the World's True Light

All in all, 8 or 9 hours of talk. Are there any kindred souls so disposed to listen?

March 2006 Newsletter Article

2006-02-24T11:21:00.000-05:00

“What is this?” “Who is this man?” Such are the reactions to Jesus’ miracles, his healings and (more confounding, it seems!) his forgiving of sins in the Gospel of Mark. Sometimes we—with our middle-class, modern sensibilities—tend to domesticate Jesus, so that there is nothing particularly strange or discomforting about him. (Note the popular hymn, “What a Friend We Have in Jesus”…what could be more comfortable than a good friend?) But we are reminded in Mark—and elsewhere in the gospels—of the Jesus who is strange, revolutionary, and utterly confounding. That is the Jesus that we encounter in Lent.

As part of our Lenten theme this year we will journey together through this strange and wonderful story of Jesus as is depicted in the Gospel of Mark. The Gospel begins with many tales of Jesus’ power and authority. Midway through the story, however, this powerful man Jesus begins to venture in a different direction. Hailed as messiah and would-be king by those closest to him, he begins a stunning journey to Jerusalem, where his enthronement is not upon a throne but rather upon a cross. And so it is appropriate in this season of Lent, which is moving us closer and closer to that cross, that we experience the movement and fullness of this story.

For the several weeks in Lent we will be reading through Mark’s gospel, starting on Sunday, March 5th, and thereafter on succeeding Wednesdays and Sundays (see the outline provided.) This will constitute a departure from our regular, appointed texts. But it is an opportunity for us to engage—on a deeper level—the whole story of Jesus and his message, which is sharp and edgy, and sometimes not so neat and tidy as we would like to make it. It is the story of God’s return to his exiled people, the climatic moment in the story of Israel, the story of which we—as God’s people—are now a part.

I invite you to take this opportunity to dive into the scriptures as we journey in this story together. If you attend every service in Lent—both Sundays and Wednesdays—you will encounter the totality of the story in Mark. The reading plan is provided for you so that you may keep up with our community’s reading on those days that you may not be present with us in worship. We will be using Today’s English Version (a.k.a. The Good News Bible or Good News for Modern Man) which is an easy-to-read and widely available translation. We have many copies of these, and they will be made available at all services.

I also invite you to read this story prayerfully; to let yourselves be perplexed by its strangeness, confronted by its sharpness. It is an opportunity to dig beneath the surface and to discover who is this Jesus that we are bid to follow, and so to follow him.