There were a lot of things I loved about church this morning. Let me share with you a few of them.
I loved the big attendance we had at early service. In addition to a good number of members, there were even some visitors there (regular visitors, but still).
I loved how Felix and Francisco helped their mom and grandparents put ice in the ice chests so our bottles of water would be chilled. I loved that, in addition to our boys, we had two girls at the children's sermon. I loved the announcement Barbara gave about a bell choir boot camp and Tammy's comments ("who here does not read music? - raise your hands.") I loved the positive spirit of Barbara's comments when she asked people to consider ringing bells in the handbell choir.
What else was great about this morning's worship service? I loved hearing the peoples' exuberant singing during our hymn sing today and the wonderful hymns we sang ("O Christ the Same" - to the tune of Danny Boy; "I Want Jesus to Walk with Me;" and "Here I am Lord"). Folks in the congregation sang from their hearts with joy and love for God. It gave me goosebumps.
The choir had not planned to sing today, but on Saturday Barbara got inspired, called Heather Puebla and asked if she would sing "Lift High the Cross" as a solo, with the choir backing her up. She agreed and we did. It was lovely. Heather's voice just soared on the verses she sang solo, and when we joined her on the chorus it sounded like we were a 50 voice choir instead of a 7 voice choir.
I loved that people asked for prayers for several of our members who have had surgery or are in the hospital, and how we raised their names during the Prayers of the People. We thanked God for Gerri's healing, for improvements in Ynette's health, for Debbie's new job. We are one family in Christ - in good times and in bad. Thank God for our fellow members who care about us.
Summer's over and I loved that many of our youth were in worship today! Seeing them, giving them a hug, made me smile.
Our closing hymn today, "O God Beyond All Praising," is one of my favorites. I first learned it when I was serving at Mt. Zion in Conover, North Carolina. Every time I hear it I think of Tim playing that big, majestic organ, the cross lifted high as acolytes led the procession, the sense of God's Spirit wrapping all around us like a beautiful ribbon or a warm blanket. I loved singing that hymn today as the service ended.
After worship people grabbed a couple bottles of water to pass out to anyone they saw out in the hot sun as they drove home. They also took several bookmarks (made by Heather Grill and Heather Puebla) with scripture verses on them, intending to keep one and give two or three to friends or neighbors. I loved seeing the children - Felix, Francisco, Madisyn - giving people bookmarks and cold bottles of water to distribute.
On the way home I drove through the neighborhood around Shepherd King with 6 bottles of cold water. I saw a man and his young son washing their cars so I stopped and gave them each a bottle of water. Then as I drew closer to home, on the access road of 410 at Perrin Beitel, I saw some folks waiting for the bus. I gave a cold bottle of water to three of them, saying "this is from our church. Have a blessed day." There was one more bottle when I pulled into the driveway. I saw my neighbor sitting on her front porch. She waved; I hurried over with a bottle of water and said "you look thirsty." I loved doing that - giving people water for no reason except that God loves them.
That is a partial list of the things I loved about worship today. I thank God for today, for the people and ministry of Shepherd King Lutheran Church.
Pastor Kris Franke Hill, stm.
Sunday, September 8, 2013
Monday, March 18, 2013
Lent and Renewal
It is so easy to be defensive in response to words or actions that question or critize. As a pastor of a welcoming congregation, I cannot afford to be defensive when responding to critiques, misunderstandings, or frank queries. Today I received an email from a stranger who took issue with a blog I had posted suggesting a ban on assault weapons. In my reply I tried to be gracious and open-minded. There is so much defensiveness in our world that I just do not want to participate. It damages our relationships with one another.
Holy God, holy and mighty, holy and immortal, have mercy on us.
I have a new student to mentor at the local middle school. I like him, but we do not share similar interests, he's doing pretty well in school, and his home life is a sensitive topic. I struggle to know what to say when we spend an hour together each week.
Holy God, holy and mighty, holy and immortal, have mercy on us.
We’ve got some 30 people participating in a Lenten cantata at Shepherd King – The Tale of the Three Trees. What a tremendous turnout! Practice has kept us all busy and our first performance is this Sunday. Anxious and excited, both.
Holy God, holy and mighty, holy and immortal, have mercy on us.
Found out this weekend that one of our dear members will not win her battle with cancer. She’s had a full life and is dealing well with her situation, but we love her so much and will miss her. In this aging congregation it is tough to see our friends losing mobility and independence, losing their health, losing their lives.
Holy God, holy and mighty, holy and immortal, have mercy on us.
We've started a new Sunday school curriculum for adults; it is time to start planning for summer camp; I will begin mentoring a seminarian in a few weeks; our annual appeal is only 4 weeks away – that will keep us very busy; my husband and I hope to create a Bible Garden with the children of Shepherd King; I have no idea yet what I will say on Easter Sunday. So much to do.
Holy God, holy and mighty, holy and immortal, have mercy on us.
In the midst of our busy-ness, God calls to us, saying “be still and know that I am God.” In response to our hunger, Jesus hands us bread saying “my body, given for you;” he passes the cup, saying “drink. This is my blood, poured out for the forgiveness of all.” When we are estranged, Jesus takes the cross and dies in our place, reconciling us to God and to one another.
Whatever you face and regardless how busy you are, may the mystery and miracle of Christ’s death and resurrection fill you with peace and new life.
Pastor Kris Franke Hill, stm.
Holy God, holy and mighty, holy and immortal, have mercy on us.
I have a new student to mentor at the local middle school. I like him, but we do not share similar interests, he's doing pretty well in school, and his home life is a sensitive topic. I struggle to know what to say when we spend an hour together each week.
Holy God, holy and mighty, holy and immortal, have mercy on us.
We’ve got some 30 people participating in a Lenten cantata at Shepherd King – The Tale of the Three Trees. What a tremendous turnout! Practice has kept us all busy and our first performance is this Sunday. Anxious and excited, both.
Holy God, holy and mighty, holy and immortal, have mercy on us.
Found out this weekend that one of our dear members will not win her battle with cancer. She’s had a full life and is dealing well with her situation, but we love her so much and will miss her. In this aging congregation it is tough to see our friends losing mobility and independence, losing their health, losing their lives.
Holy God, holy and mighty, holy and immortal, have mercy on us.
We've started a new Sunday school curriculum for adults; it is time to start planning for summer camp; I will begin mentoring a seminarian in a few weeks; our annual appeal is only 4 weeks away – that will keep us very busy; my husband and I hope to create a Bible Garden with the children of Shepherd King; I have no idea yet what I will say on Easter Sunday. So much to do.
Holy God, holy and mighty, holy and immortal, have mercy on us.
In the midst of our busy-ness, God calls to us, saying “be still and know that I am God.” In response to our hunger, Jesus hands us bread saying “my body, given for you;” he passes the cup, saying “drink. This is my blood, poured out for the forgiveness of all.” When we are estranged, Jesus takes the cross and dies in our place, reconciling us to God and to one another.
Whatever you face and regardless how busy you are, may the mystery and miracle of Christ’s death and resurrection fill you with peace and new life.
Pastor Kris Franke Hill, stm.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Stop the Violence
Sixteen mass shooting took place in the United States in 2012 resulting in 88 deaths (information from The Nation magazine). They were:
February 22nd – five people were killed at a Korean Health Spa in Norcross, Georgia.
February 26 – gunmen opened fire in a Jackson, Mississippi nightclub, killing one.
February 27 – three students were shot to death at a high school in rural Ohio.
March 8 – two people were killed at a psychiatric hospital in Pittsburg.
March 31 – two people attending a funeral were shot and killed in North Miami, FL.
April 2 – a former student killed seven people “execution style” at Oikos University in Oakland, California.
April 6 – two men went on a shooting spree targeting African American men in Tulsa, Oklahoma, killing three.
May 29 – in Seattle, Washington, a man opened fire in a coffee shop killing five people and then himself.
July 9 – three people were killed at a soccer tournament in Wilmington, DE.
July 20 – a man entered a movie theater in Aurora, CO, and killed 12 people.
August 5 – six people were shot to death in a Sikh Temple in Oak Creek, WI.
August 14 – three people, including a police officer, were shot and killed at Texas A & M University.
September 27 – in Minneapolis, MN, a man shot and killed five people at his former work place, then killed himself.
October 21 – three people were shot to death at a spa in Brookfield, Wisconsin; the gunman then killed himself.
December 11 – two people were killed at a mall in Portland, Oregon.
December 15 – 26 people, mostly children, were shot and killed at an elementary school in Newtown, Connecticut; the shooter’s mother was killed at her home; the shooter committed suicide.
We who are followers of Jesus Christ, who love God and live to do God's work in this world - what will we do in response to these killings? We must respond, not just with an expression of sympathy or an official statement naming these as tragedies, but with ourselves - our bodies, our minds, our efforts, our words and our actions.
I believe two things must be done in our nation to curtail these horrifying occurences. First we must provide comprehensive and excellent mental health care to all people who need it. That could get expensive to us as a society, but the cost is worth it to prevent more deaths like those listed above. Those who shoot innocent people for no reason are not well. I say that not to excuse their behavior but to underscore that providing mental health care to all is necessary if we are to have a safe society.
The second thing we must do is ban the sale of any and all rapid-fire guns in the United States. No one needs a rapid fire weapon to protect him/herself or to hunt, and those are the only reasons a person needs to own a gun. Guns do not necessarily keep a person safe. The mother of the shooter in Connecticut owned the guns that were used to kill her; they did not protect her life from danger.
The violence must stop. What will you do? What can we do together? We cannot be silent, we cannot fail to act any longer. Let's work together to stop the violence.
Pastor Kris Franke Hill, stm.
February 22nd – five people were killed at a Korean Health Spa in Norcross, Georgia.
February 26 – gunmen opened fire in a Jackson, Mississippi nightclub, killing one.
February 27 – three students were shot to death at a high school in rural Ohio.
March 8 – two people were killed at a psychiatric hospital in Pittsburg.
March 31 – two people attending a funeral were shot and killed in North Miami, FL.
April 2 – a former student killed seven people “execution style” at Oikos University in Oakland, California.
April 6 – two men went on a shooting spree targeting African American men in Tulsa, Oklahoma, killing three.
May 29 – in Seattle, Washington, a man opened fire in a coffee shop killing five people and then himself.
July 9 – three people were killed at a soccer tournament in Wilmington, DE.
July 20 – a man entered a movie theater in Aurora, CO, and killed 12 people.
August 5 – six people were shot to death in a Sikh Temple in Oak Creek, WI.
August 14 – three people, including a police officer, were shot and killed at Texas A & M University.
September 27 – in Minneapolis, MN, a man shot and killed five people at his former work place, then killed himself.
October 21 – three people were shot to death at a spa in Brookfield, Wisconsin; the gunman then killed himself.
December 11 – two people were killed at a mall in Portland, Oregon.
December 15 – 26 people, mostly children, were shot and killed at an elementary school in Newtown, Connecticut; the shooter’s mother was killed at her home; the shooter committed suicide.
We who are followers of Jesus Christ, who love God and live to do God's work in this world - what will we do in response to these killings? We must respond, not just with an expression of sympathy or an official statement naming these as tragedies, but with ourselves - our bodies, our minds, our efforts, our words and our actions.
I believe two things must be done in our nation to curtail these horrifying occurences. First we must provide comprehensive and excellent mental health care to all people who need it. That could get expensive to us as a society, but the cost is worth it to prevent more deaths like those listed above. Those who shoot innocent people for no reason are not well. I say that not to excuse their behavior but to underscore that providing mental health care to all is necessary if we are to have a safe society.
The second thing we must do is ban the sale of any and all rapid-fire guns in the United States. No one needs a rapid fire weapon to protect him/herself or to hunt, and those are the only reasons a person needs to own a gun. Guns do not necessarily keep a person safe. The mother of the shooter in Connecticut owned the guns that were used to kill her; they did not protect her life from danger.
The violence must stop. What will you do? What can we do together? We cannot be silent, we cannot fail to act any longer. Let's work together to stop the violence.
Pastor Kris Franke Hill, stm.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Hands Empty. Hearts Full
It was the look that got me, the look he gave toward the altar after the offering plates were collected. That look wrenched my heart, wrenched all our hearts, but what could we do?
At Shepherd King our adult ushers collect the offerings during worship on Sunday mornings. But often when there are children in the service the ushers ask a couple of them to carry the full plates back to the altar as the congregation sings the doxology. A worship assistant waits for them in the chancel, receives the plates, and takes them to the credence table.
On Sunday Kathy was the worship assistant. Conner and his little cousin, Hudson, were chosen to bring the offering forward to the altar. Conner has done this many times before; he's 8 years old and quite capable of participating in various ways in the service. Hudson had helped once before, but at barely 3, it's harder for him to handle those collection plates with checks, bills, and coins in them. So as the boys came forward Conner held the plates and Hudson walked alongside him, hands empty.
As soon as they started forward Hudson began to lobby for carrying one of the plates. He reached for a plate, but as the bigger and more responsible one, Conner held them fast. Hudson veered slightly in front of Conner. Conner patiently guided his little cousin over to the side and continued walking. As they got closer and closer to Kathy, waiting for them at the altar, Hudson's appeal for a plate become more demonstrative -- reaching again, giving his cousin pleading looks, getting in front of him. Conner didn't waver, just brought the plates forward. He had probably been told to carry them both for fear that Hudson might drop one, sending checks and cash flying.
Finally they reached the front. A few feet short of the altar Hudson came to an abrupt stop. Conner continued on and gave Kathy the plates, then he turned and headed back to his pew. But not Hudson (who loves Conner more than anything and usually follows him everywhere). Hudson just stood there - his body turned partially towards the back, his face turned toward the altar, his head down. And the look on his face was heartbreaking. This boy used to be so shy he would not come to the front of the church even with Conner or his Dad. But now he stood there all alone with a look of dejection and defeat on his face. We all ached to console him.
Kathy had begun walking toward the credence table with the plates, but Hudson's expression made her pause. For a moment she didn't move. Then she went back, reached down and invited Hudson to re-give her one of the plates. He happily moved forward, took the top plate, lifted it just a little, and put it back again. Then he turned and walked proudly back to his seat while Kathy took the plates away.
Grace had come to life right in front of us. We saw a boy who felt left out, rejected, and dismissed be acknowledged, be welcomed at the altar - the home of God. There, in God's presence, Kathy shared God's kindness, God's tangible love, with a little boy. The whole congregation sighed. Our hearts were filled by that gracious gesture. And Hudson learned, again, that he is loved in this place, that he matters to us, that we see him and care for him as a child of God, our brother in Christ.
Hallelujah!
Pastor Kris
At Shepherd King our adult ushers collect the offerings during worship on Sunday mornings. But often when there are children in the service the ushers ask a couple of them to carry the full plates back to the altar as the congregation sings the doxology. A worship assistant waits for them in the chancel, receives the plates, and takes them to the credence table.
On Sunday Kathy was the worship assistant. Conner and his little cousin, Hudson, were chosen to bring the offering forward to the altar. Conner has done this many times before; he's 8 years old and quite capable of participating in various ways in the service. Hudson had helped once before, but at barely 3, it's harder for him to handle those collection plates with checks, bills, and coins in them. So as the boys came forward Conner held the plates and Hudson walked alongside him, hands empty.
As soon as they started forward Hudson began to lobby for carrying one of the plates. He reached for a plate, but as the bigger and more responsible one, Conner held them fast. Hudson veered slightly in front of Conner. Conner patiently guided his little cousin over to the side and continued walking. As they got closer and closer to Kathy, waiting for them at the altar, Hudson's appeal for a plate become more demonstrative -- reaching again, giving his cousin pleading looks, getting in front of him. Conner didn't waver, just brought the plates forward. He had probably been told to carry them both for fear that Hudson might drop one, sending checks and cash flying.
Finally they reached the front. A few feet short of the altar Hudson came to an abrupt stop. Conner continued on and gave Kathy the plates, then he turned and headed back to his pew. But not Hudson (who loves Conner more than anything and usually follows him everywhere). Hudson just stood there - his body turned partially towards the back, his face turned toward the altar, his head down. And the look on his face was heartbreaking. This boy used to be so shy he would not come to the front of the church even with Conner or his Dad. But now he stood there all alone with a look of dejection and defeat on his face. We all ached to console him.
Kathy had begun walking toward the credence table with the plates, but Hudson's expression made her pause. For a moment she didn't move. Then she went back, reached down and invited Hudson to re-give her one of the plates. He happily moved forward, took the top plate, lifted it just a little, and put it back again. Then he turned and walked proudly back to his seat while Kathy took the plates away.
Grace had come to life right in front of us. We saw a boy who felt left out, rejected, and dismissed be acknowledged, be welcomed at the altar - the home of God. There, in God's presence, Kathy shared God's kindness, God's tangible love, with a little boy. The whole congregation sighed. Our hearts were filled by that gracious gesture. And Hudson learned, again, that he is loved in this place, that he matters to us, that we see him and care for him as a child of God, our brother in Christ.
Hallelujah!
Pastor Kris
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Grief and Grieving
I don't know how to grieve. People grieve differently, of course, and there is no perfect way to do it. Even so, the process I follow, the ways I express my grief seem inadequate.
I feel like a child standing on a street corner with a lost look on my face. When I first heard the news I could only think to say these two things: "but I just saw her" and "oh God, oh God, oh God." We wander blindly through grief, not knowing where the path will lead us, unsure what to say or do, stuck fast in disbelief.
We did just see Julie, on Sunday. She was her usual delightful self - smiling, helping set the altar for communion, singing in the choir, talking about her kids. Who could imagine Mt. Zion without Julie Klutz and why would anyone have done so? Her grandmother lived to be 97; surely Julie had many more good years of life left.
But she didn't. On Friday she collapsed, went into a coma, and died, sending a whole community - church members, neighbors, friends of her sons, her family and her own friends - into shock. It didn't seem possible. It didn't seem real. It didn't make sense -- still doesn't.
I don't know how to grieve. Mostly I am numb and sad. My attention may be diverted by a task at work but as soon as it is finished I remember: "Julie is dead." When I awaken after a night's sleep, feeling the heaviness within, the thought comes quickly: "Julie is gone." On the outside I appear calm, normal, but inside a tiny "me" is beating her fists on the walls and screaming "no! no! no! It isn't fair!" I would cry if I could but the tears only come at inopportune moments - during a meeting, in worship when I'm giving the announcements or trying to sing. I don't know how to grieve.
Grief comes as it will, expresses itself on its own terms. One friend can't eat; several friends are having trouble sleeping. Julie's family is surrounded by people, come to offer their condolences. They get to talking, remembering, even laughing. But when the house is empty and it's time for bed, 'reality' (as Austin put it) smacks them in the face, punches them in the gut all over again.
I don't know how to grieve, but I do know this - we grieve together. We check on each other and talk even when we don't know what to say. We play music to relieve the pain and share special songs with our friends. We fix food and bring it to those in mourning. We encourage one another to rest, to eat, to know we are all still loved. We come together for worship to be comforted, to cry and lament, to hear the Word, to hold each other up. We do not do this grieving alone but with each other; together we keep going. And we remember - her smile, her kindness, her laughter, her goodness, her friendship. Yes, we remember.
"For everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die...
a time to plant and a time to pluck up what is planted...
a time to weep and a time to laugh...
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing..." (Ecclesiastes chapter 3)
Now is the time to grieve, and grieve, and grieve. It is also the time to live, giving thanks to God for the life of Julie Klutz, for each other, for the nearness of the Savior and for the promise of life everlasting.
Pastor Kris
I feel like a child standing on a street corner with a lost look on my face. When I first heard the news I could only think to say these two things: "but I just saw her" and "oh God, oh God, oh God." We wander blindly through grief, not knowing where the path will lead us, unsure what to say or do, stuck fast in disbelief.
We did just see Julie, on Sunday. She was her usual delightful self - smiling, helping set the altar for communion, singing in the choir, talking about her kids. Who could imagine Mt. Zion without Julie Klutz and why would anyone have done so? Her grandmother lived to be 97; surely Julie had many more good years of life left.
But she didn't. On Friday she collapsed, went into a coma, and died, sending a whole community - church members, neighbors, friends of her sons, her family and her own friends - into shock. It didn't seem possible. It didn't seem real. It didn't make sense -- still doesn't.
I don't know how to grieve. Mostly I am numb and sad. My attention may be diverted by a task at work but as soon as it is finished I remember: "Julie is dead." When I awaken after a night's sleep, feeling the heaviness within, the thought comes quickly: "Julie is gone." On the outside I appear calm, normal, but inside a tiny "me" is beating her fists on the walls and screaming "no! no! no! It isn't fair!" I would cry if I could but the tears only come at inopportune moments - during a meeting, in worship when I'm giving the announcements or trying to sing. I don't know how to grieve.
Grief comes as it will, expresses itself on its own terms. One friend can't eat; several friends are having trouble sleeping. Julie's family is surrounded by people, come to offer their condolences. They get to talking, remembering, even laughing. But when the house is empty and it's time for bed, 'reality' (as Austin put it) smacks them in the face, punches them in the gut all over again.
I don't know how to grieve, but I do know this - we grieve together. We check on each other and talk even when we don't know what to say. We play music to relieve the pain and share special songs with our friends. We fix food and bring it to those in mourning. We encourage one another to rest, to eat, to know we are all still loved. We come together for worship to be comforted, to cry and lament, to hear the Word, to hold each other up. We do not do this grieving alone but with each other; together we keep going. And we remember - her smile, her kindness, her laughter, her goodness, her friendship. Yes, we remember.
"For everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die...
a time to plant and a time to pluck up what is planted...
a time to weep and a time to laugh...
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing..." (Ecclesiastes chapter 3)
Now is the time to grieve, and grieve, and grieve. It is also the time to live, giving thanks to God for the life of Julie Klutz, for each other, for the nearness of the Savior and for the promise of life everlasting.
Pastor Kris
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Expectations
I had a "come to Jesus" meeting with Shepherd King's youth group last Sunday. The previous Sunday, when I was gone, our youth had made a plea for financial support for their trip to New Orleans at the beginning of worship. Then several of them sat off by themselves and proceeded talk all through the service and pay so little attention to what was going on around them that they did not stand up for the gospel or the creed or anything else. Adult members found their behavior inappropriate and disrespectful. By the time I was back in the office last Tuesday, the complaints were pouring in.
So we had a come to Jesus meeting. I told them they'd shot themselves in the foot - asking for support and then acting up all through worship. With their parents standing by listening, I talked to the youth about showing respect - to their parents, to the worshipping community, to me, and most of all, to God. We went over a list spelling out guidelines for good behavior in worship - take off your hat in church, stand up for the Gospel reading, open your bulletin and your hymnal and participate, keep your hands to yourself. Being part of the church, I said, is a two-way street. The congregation provides you with a cool youth room, supports the trips you take, teaches you Sunday school, hires you a youth director. In return, you need to come to worship, behave properly, and be courteous to others. We posted a copy of these guidelines on the door of the Youth room.
We have great kids here at Shepherd King. Each is a fine person with sensitivity and kindness, loyalty, good humor, faith in God, and willingness to help others. But often they come to Sunday school and then do not attend worship, staying in the youth room or going outside instead. That has irked me for some time, but it was only this past Sunday that I talked to them about it. Which makes me wonder - why have I hesitated to make it clear to the youth what I expect from them? Why haven't I addressed them like this before?
I believe the youth - their wellbeing, their behavior, their faith development - is the responsibility of the whole congregation. But I, like most members of our congregation, have left discipline to their parents. "If those kids are not in worship," I've reasoned to myself, "their parents need to do something about it!" Yet, truthfully, I don't believe that. The parents/guardians of these kids work hard to get their kids to worship; they've told their children how to behave in church. Why should they be the only ones who say to our youth "put that cell phone away, please" or "come on, it's time for worship and you guys need to be there"?
People grow and become their best selves when held to a high standard. Low standards do not make for friendliness, only sloppiness. Yet I think, in the church, we have been afraid of offending other people if we make our expectations clear. Do we expect those in our community of faith to come to worship every Sunday (or only on occasion)? Do we expect each other to speak up at meetings and participate in the ministry we undertake? Do we expect ourselves and one another to represent Jesus in our daily living?
God does not hesitate to let us know what is expected of us as baptized people. We hear these words in the rite of Affirmation of Baptism - "you have made public profession of your faith. Do you intend to continue in the covenant God made with you in holy baptism: to live among God's faithful people, to hear the word of God and share in the Lord's supper, to proclaim the good news of God in Christ through word and deed, to serve all people, following the example of Jesus, and to strive for justice and peace in all the earth?" Our response (should we accept this mission) is "I do, and I ask God to help and guide me."
God has high expectations of us. God expects us to worship together regularly - hearing the Word, sharing the supper. God expects our lives to reflect the good news of Jesus. God expects us to work for peace and justice in all the earth. These are high expectations!
"From those to whom much has been given, much will be expected." That applies to us. We have received so much from God - life, health, safety, work, family, abilities, the love of Jesus and the hope of the resurrection. Now God lovingly expects us to achieve much, to give much, to strive to love one another as Jesus Christ has loved us.
Maybe we should post this section of the Affirmation of Baptism on our church doors so that we all will remember - God expects a lot from us. May God uphold us and enable us as we worship with full hearts, serve alongside each other, and promote peace and justice in all the world.
Pastor Kris Franke Hill, stm.
So we had a come to Jesus meeting. I told them they'd shot themselves in the foot - asking for support and then acting up all through worship. With their parents standing by listening, I talked to the youth about showing respect - to their parents, to the worshipping community, to me, and most of all, to God. We went over a list spelling out guidelines for good behavior in worship - take off your hat in church, stand up for the Gospel reading, open your bulletin and your hymnal and participate, keep your hands to yourself. Being part of the church, I said, is a two-way street. The congregation provides you with a cool youth room, supports the trips you take, teaches you Sunday school, hires you a youth director. In return, you need to come to worship, behave properly, and be courteous to others. We posted a copy of these guidelines on the door of the Youth room.
We have great kids here at Shepherd King. Each is a fine person with sensitivity and kindness, loyalty, good humor, faith in God, and willingness to help others. But often they come to Sunday school and then do not attend worship, staying in the youth room or going outside instead. That has irked me for some time, but it was only this past Sunday that I talked to them about it. Which makes me wonder - why have I hesitated to make it clear to the youth what I expect from them? Why haven't I addressed them like this before?
I believe the youth - their wellbeing, their behavior, their faith development - is the responsibility of the whole congregation. But I, like most members of our congregation, have left discipline to their parents. "If those kids are not in worship," I've reasoned to myself, "their parents need to do something about it!" Yet, truthfully, I don't believe that. The parents/guardians of these kids work hard to get their kids to worship; they've told their children how to behave in church. Why should they be the only ones who say to our youth "put that cell phone away, please" or "come on, it's time for worship and you guys need to be there"?
People grow and become their best selves when held to a high standard. Low standards do not make for friendliness, only sloppiness. Yet I think, in the church, we have been afraid of offending other people if we make our expectations clear. Do we expect those in our community of faith to come to worship every Sunday (or only on occasion)? Do we expect each other to speak up at meetings and participate in the ministry we undertake? Do we expect ourselves and one another to represent Jesus in our daily living?
God does not hesitate to let us know what is expected of us as baptized people. We hear these words in the rite of Affirmation of Baptism - "you have made public profession of your faith. Do you intend to continue in the covenant God made with you in holy baptism: to live among God's faithful people, to hear the word of God and share in the Lord's supper, to proclaim the good news of God in Christ through word and deed, to serve all people, following the example of Jesus, and to strive for justice and peace in all the earth?" Our response (should we accept this mission) is "I do, and I ask God to help and guide me."
God has high expectations of us. God expects us to worship together regularly - hearing the Word, sharing the supper. God expects our lives to reflect the good news of Jesus. God expects us to work for peace and justice in all the earth. These are high expectations!
"From those to whom much has been given, much will be expected." That applies to us. We have received so much from God - life, health, safety, work, family, abilities, the love of Jesus and the hope of the resurrection. Now God lovingly expects us to achieve much, to give much, to strive to love one another as Jesus Christ has loved us.
Maybe we should post this section of the Affirmation of Baptism on our church doors so that we all will remember - God expects a lot from us. May God uphold us and enable us as we worship with full hearts, serve alongside each other, and promote peace and justice in all the world.
Pastor Kris Franke Hill, stm.
Monday, April 2, 2012
Crucifixion
You can plainly hear someone screaming in the background. Someone is screaming, begging for help. The voice is terrified, the cries urgent. The dispatcher says "911, do you need police, the fire department or an ambulance" and the caller responds "someone outside needs help." In the background you can hear him screaming, shouting "help me, help me!"
Is it Trayvon Martin screaming or George Zimmerman? We don't know for sure, although several experts have said the voice is not that of Zimmerman, who shot and killed Martin in what he claims was self-defense. Questions about that claim remain.
I listened to the you-tube tape of the 911 call. The first time I didn't even notice the sounds in the background; I was hearing what the operator and the caller were saying. But the second time I heard it - a voice screaming, then crying "help me! help me!" It was chilling. We know that senseless killings happen every day throughout America. What is it about this case that has so captured the attention and roused the sympathies of our people? I think it's the details that get to us - the iced tea and skittles, that he was 17, the hoodie, that an African-American youth was regarded as suspicious in a gated community. All those things trouble our minds and hurt our hearts, but especially the screaming, the calls for help.
It is Holy Week in the Church, a week when we focus on the death and resurrection of Jesus. Already on Sunday many of us read the passion account from Mark and sang the somber hymns: "Were You There When They Crucified My Lord?" "O Sacred Head Now Wounded." Each year we remember and mourn the tragic death of Jesus, the Son of God. We confront, again, our own complicity in Jesus' death. Though it happened long ago, his dying continues wherever there is hatred, careless suspicion of others, killing, cruelty, blaming and scape-goating, prejudice, unconcern for those in need. During Holy Week we confess our guilt because we participate in those things.
I keep thinking about the screams, and yes, I assume they came from Trayvon Martin. Did Jesus scream in pain as he hung on the cross; did the Creator scream while watching the Son die? I haven't ever screamed aloud when someone I love dies or is near death; but those screams live within me. As the church moves toward Good Friday where Jesus will be nailed to a cross and left to die, the screams from the 911 tape sound in my head. Thinking of the crowd shouting for Jesus' death "crucify, crucify him," the soldiers whipping Jesus, the guards taunting and spitting on him, I hear in the background those screams.
I know Easter is coming - the resurrection, the bright promise, new life. I know that my Redeemer lives, that the Redeemer of the whole world lives. This Sunday will be filled with beautiful flowers, smiling faces, great good news, joyous singing, the sense that all is well. But I can't move too quickly from the dying, from the loss, the pointlessness of killing one another. Even when Easter is on the horizon, the crucifixion lasts a long, long time - minutes like hours, hours like days. Today there is sorrow. Today there is questioning, hurting, listening to the screaming. While we ultimately rejoice in life-everlasting, there is a time to wrestle with death, a time to ask 'why?,' a time to seek answers and resolution. For me, now is that time.
I pray God hears the screaming. I pray we hear and respond to the screaming and to this culture of death.
Remembering the Crucified One,
Pastor Kris Franke Hill, STM
Is it Trayvon Martin screaming or George Zimmerman? We don't know for sure, although several experts have said the voice is not that of Zimmerman, who shot and killed Martin in what he claims was self-defense. Questions about that claim remain.
I listened to the you-tube tape of the 911 call. The first time I didn't even notice the sounds in the background; I was hearing what the operator and the caller were saying. But the second time I heard it - a voice screaming, then crying "help me! help me!" It was chilling. We know that senseless killings happen every day throughout America. What is it about this case that has so captured the attention and roused the sympathies of our people? I think it's the details that get to us - the iced tea and skittles, that he was 17, the hoodie, that an African-American youth was regarded as suspicious in a gated community. All those things trouble our minds and hurt our hearts, but especially the screaming, the calls for help.
It is Holy Week in the Church, a week when we focus on the death and resurrection of Jesus. Already on Sunday many of us read the passion account from Mark and sang the somber hymns: "Were You There When They Crucified My Lord?" "O Sacred Head Now Wounded." Each year we remember and mourn the tragic death of Jesus, the Son of God. We confront, again, our own complicity in Jesus' death. Though it happened long ago, his dying continues wherever there is hatred, careless suspicion of others, killing, cruelty, blaming and scape-goating, prejudice, unconcern for those in need. During Holy Week we confess our guilt because we participate in those things.
I keep thinking about the screams, and yes, I assume they came from Trayvon Martin. Did Jesus scream in pain as he hung on the cross; did the Creator scream while watching the Son die? I haven't ever screamed aloud when someone I love dies or is near death; but those screams live within me. As the church moves toward Good Friday where Jesus will be nailed to a cross and left to die, the screams from the 911 tape sound in my head. Thinking of the crowd shouting for Jesus' death "crucify, crucify him," the soldiers whipping Jesus, the guards taunting and spitting on him, I hear in the background those screams.
I know Easter is coming - the resurrection, the bright promise, new life. I know that my Redeemer lives, that the Redeemer of the whole world lives. This Sunday will be filled with beautiful flowers, smiling faces, great good news, joyous singing, the sense that all is well. But I can't move too quickly from the dying, from the loss, the pointlessness of killing one another. Even when Easter is on the horizon, the crucifixion lasts a long, long time - minutes like hours, hours like days. Today there is sorrow. Today there is questioning, hurting, listening to the screaming. While we ultimately rejoice in life-everlasting, there is a time to wrestle with death, a time to ask 'why?,' a time to seek answers and resolution. For me, now is that time.
I pray God hears the screaming. I pray we hear and respond to the screaming and to this culture of death.
Remembering the Crucified One,
Pastor Kris Franke Hill, STM
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Hoodies and Race.
The reports say that Trayvon Martin looked suspicious because he was wearing a hoodie with the hood up. Wow. If that's all it takes for a young man to look suspicious then most of the church kids I've known the last 10 or 15 years fit the bill. In North Carolina the kids at Mt. Zion wore hoodies - Billy, Taylor, Corey, Jarrett, Logan, Eddie, Brandon... Here at Shepherd King, in Texas, the kids wear them, too - Lane, Catie, Cameron, Saidee, Rane... In fact, if you're an American between the ages of 7 and 27 you probably own and wear a hoodie, sometimes with the hood up. It's standard dress these days.
I doubt that people would think Billy or Taylor, Cameron or Saidee or any of the others I listed above would look "suspicious" when they're wearing hoodies. That's because each of them is white. A crucial element left out of the official reports is that Trayvon Martin looked "suspicious" because he was wearing a hoodie and he was black. He was, in fact, a young African-American male -- just the image that would come to mind for most of us if we heard that a "suspicious person" was in our neighborhood.
Racism is an important component in this case. I'm not, in particular, talking about George Zimmerman - the man who shot and killed Trayvon; I'm talking about us - you and me and the society we live in. We are all infected with racism, whether we want to be or not. I certainly do NOT intend to think of young black men as likely criminals. I know such labels and stereotypes are untrue, unfair, and harmful to all of us. You're probably like me. You do not intend to be racist; you do not harbor illwill or hatred of African American people in your heart. You try to be open and accepting of all people. That is how I think of myself, and yet still, we are infected with racism.
Nobody likes to be called a "racist" - we bristle and insist that we do not hold a person's skin color against them. Most likely, that is true - we do not intentionally reject people or dislike people because of their color. That is true of me. Even so, we have racism in our minds and our hearts. We may hate that (I do), we may try to eliminate that (I do), but to be truthful, to be fair, it is there. Ridding ourselves of racism is hard work; it requires consistent, sustained effort. We shouldn't expect it to be easy or that we'll accomplish it quickly.
Slavery in the United States was abolished in 1863 when President Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation. Of course, the on-going civil war meant that this law did not take effect in many places until several years later. The first African slaves were brought to the United States (territory at that time) around 1565 (Wikipedia). 300 hundred years of slavery in America has been followed, thus far, by almost 150 years of freedom for African Americans. Now, we know that good things take longer to establish than do harmful things. Making peace is a long process; starting a war happens in an instant. So it should not surprise us that we - our society - still has a ways to go in terms of overcoming racism.
I do not mean that last statement to be an excuse. My hope is that we might, all of us, realize that racism lingers within us like toxic waste saturates the soil after a spillage has been cleaned up. To say certain actions or attitudes are 'racist' is not to say we are all a bunch of awful, irredeemable people who clearly hate anyone who is different from ourselves. Acknowledging racism among us is simply a confession of truth. If racism were not prevalent among us - not just in some individuals, but in our collective lives - Trayvon Martin would not have seemed 'suspicious' because he was wearing a hoodie with the hood pulled up. He looked suspicious because he was a young, African-American male wearing a hoodie with the hood pulled up. And that is racism.
We can tackle this problem. It is not insurmountable. We can move beyond the racism we have grown up with (as a society - I don't mean in your or my individual families). But the first step, as I see it, is to admit the fact that there is still racism in our minds, in our attitudes, in our reactions to others. We cannot talk about racism as if it only applies to someone else. I must strive to erase racism in myself and you, in yourself. We can do this, together. We can confess the wrong within us and ask God to help us change, help us grow, help us be the people we want to be. Please join me in doing that today and into the future.
No more Trayvon Martins. No more senseless killings because we distrust one another, in large part, on the basis of skin color. Let's work harder to be cured of our racism. And may God help us and bring us to that goal.
Pastor Kris Franke Hill, STM
I doubt that people would think Billy or Taylor, Cameron or Saidee or any of the others I listed above would look "suspicious" when they're wearing hoodies. That's because each of them is white. A crucial element left out of the official reports is that Trayvon Martin looked "suspicious" because he was wearing a hoodie and he was black. He was, in fact, a young African-American male -- just the image that would come to mind for most of us if we heard that a "suspicious person" was in our neighborhood.
Racism is an important component in this case. I'm not, in particular, talking about George Zimmerman - the man who shot and killed Trayvon; I'm talking about us - you and me and the society we live in. We are all infected with racism, whether we want to be or not. I certainly do NOT intend to think of young black men as likely criminals. I know such labels and stereotypes are untrue, unfair, and harmful to all of us. You're probably like me. You do not intend to be racist; you do not harbor illwill or hatred of African American people in your heart. You try to be open and accepting of all people. That is how I think of myself, and yet still, we are infected with racism.
Nobody likes to be called a "racist" - we bristle and insist that we do not hold a person's skin color against them. Most likely, that is true - we do not intentionally reject people or dislike people because of their color. That is true of me. Even so, we have racism in our minds and our hearts. We may hate that (I do), we may try to eliminate that (I do), but to be truthful, to be fair, it is there. Ridding ourselves of racism is hard work; it requires consistent, sustained effort. We shouldn't expect it to be easy or that we'll accomplish it quickly.
Slavery in the United States was abolished in 1863 when President Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation. Of course, the on-going civil war meant that this law did not take effect in many places until several years later. The first African slaves were brought to the United States (territory at that time) around 1565 (Wikipedia). 300 hundred years of slavery in America has been followed, thus far, by almost 150 years of freedom for African Americans. Now, we know that good things take longer to establish than do harmful things. Making peace is a long process; starting a war happens in an instant. So it should not surprise us that we - our society - still has a ways to go in terms of overcoming racism.
I do not mean that last statement to be an excuse. My hope is that we might, all of us, realize that racism lingers within us like toxic waste saturates the soil after a spillage has been cleaned up. To say certain actions or attitudes are 'racist' is not to say we are all a bunch of awful, irredeemable people who clearly hate anyone who is different from ourselves. Acknowledging racism among us is simply a confession of truth. If racism were not prevalent among us - not just in some individuals, but in our collective lives - Trayvon Martin would not have seemed 'suspicious' because he was wearing a hoodie with the hood pulled up. He looked suspicious because he was a young, African-American male wearing a hoodie with the hood pulled up. And that is racism.
We can tackle this problem. It is not insurmountable. We can move beyond the racism we have grown up with (as a society - I don't mean in your or my individual families). But the first step, as I see it, is to admit the fact that there is still racism in our minds, in our attitudes, in our reactions to others. We cannot talk about racism as if it only applies to someone else. I must strive to erase racism in myself and you, in yourself. We can do this, together. We can confess the wrong within us and ask God to help us change, help us grow, help us be the people we want to be. Please join me in doing that today and into the future.
No more Trayvon Martins. No more senseless killings because we distrust one another, in large part, on the basis of skin color. Let's work harder to be cured of our racism. And may God help us and bring us to that goal.
Pastor Kris Franke Hill, STM
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Mitt, Tim, and Jesus
This morning the radio played a clip from a recent press conference held by a presidential candidate. The candidate's wife explained how her husband had nearly decided not to run for office. Together they had discussed how draining a campaign would be, how they would encounter negative publicity, how their personal lives would be under scrutiny and they might get dragged through the mud. At that point her husband thought perhaps he should not run for president. But, said his wife, she looked him in the eye and asked him: "Mitt, can you save America?" When I heard that remark I gasped aloud and said "oh my God!" "Oh my God!" I said again and again, shocked that anyone would suggest such a thing.
What hubris! [Hubris - extreme haughtiness, excessive pride or arrogance.] What incredible, inexcusable hubris - especially for someone who worships God. God saves, and God alone. Human beings work, serve, lead, support, critique, inquire, respond, listen, advise, and work some more. But no human being, no candidate for office, no president has the ability to "save America." Is this what we think now? If so, we will always be disappointed because that expectation is simply wrong.
On Sunday Tim Tebow threw for 316 yards in the Bronco's playoff win over Pittsburg. Tebow-mania, already rampant, has intensified as fans say his passing yards are a sign from God. They interpret 316 [passing yards] as a message from God, linking it to John 3:16 (a wonderful passage from the Bible about our salvation in Jesus Christ). Is this a miracle? Sports commentators did not expect Denver to win much, have not expected Tebow to succeed as a quarterback, yet he's done well and now has even won a playoff game. Is God speaking through Tim Tebow? God might speak through Tebow - in the same way that God speaks through other human beings - but not because the quarterback registered 316 yards in passing. God speaks to us in scripture, in sacred music, in prayer and meditation - not in football statistics.
I am increasingly puzzled by my fellow Americans, many of whom claim that ours is a "Christian nation." [My Dad taught me long ago that this is neither true nor possible. One becomes a Christian through baptism and you cannot baptize a nation.] How can people who worship one God ("Hear O Israel, the LORD is God, the LORD alone." Deuteronomy 6:4) not take offense at anyone who asserts (or whose wife asserts) that he can save America? How can serious Christians think God is speaking to them through the exploits or the statistics of a football player? God does speak to us, all the time, in scripture, in issues and events that challenge us, in our neighbor who needs us or the one who annoys us.
Maybe this is what we get when nearly every aspect of our lives is defined as a commodity, when our most holy days (holidays) are celebrated by gluttonous spending, when we measure our worth in terms of our wealth, our self-esteem in terms of our appearance. Maybe this is what happens. We begin to believe that a president can "save" us from our problems; we expect television shows to bring us messages from heaven; we worship Tim Tebow instead of worshipping Jesus. Maybe we've lost our minds - or just our common sense.
If you want to be saved, turn to God. God is waiting to receive you with joy. If you want to hear a message from God, pray, attend weekly worship, read scripture. Watching football is great - but it's just football. Let presidents be presidents (the job is hard enough without anyone expecting them to be the Messiah). Let Jesus be Jesus and let Tim Tebow be a guy who loves Jesus and plays quarterback.
Pastor Kris Franke Hill
What hubris! [Hubris - extreme haughtiness, excessive pride or arrogance.] What incredible, inexcusable hubris - especially for someone who worships God. God saves, and God alone. Human beings work, serve, lead, support, critique, inquire, respond, listen, advise, and work some more. But no human being, no candidate for office, no president has the ability to "save America." Is this what we think now? If so, we will always be disappointed because that expectation is simply wrong.
On Sunday Tim Tebow threw for 316 yards in the Bronco's playoff win over Pittsburg. Tebow-mania, already rampant, has intensified as fans say his passing yards are a sign from God. They interpret 316 [passing yards] as a message from God, linking it to John 3:16 (a wonderful passage from the Bible about our salvation in Jesus Christ). Is this a miracle? Sports commentators did not expect Denver to win much, have not expected Tebow to succeed as a quarterback, yet he's done well and now has even won a playoff game. Is God speaking through Tim Tebow? God might speak through Tebow - in the same way that God speaks through other human beings - but not because the quarterback registered 316 yards in passing. God speaks to us in scripture, in sacred music, in prayer and meditation - not in football statistics.
I am increasingly puzzled by my fellow Americans, many of whom claim that ours is a "Christian nation." [My Dad taught me long ago that this is neither true nor possible. One becomes a Christian through baptism and you cannot baptize a nation.] How can people who worship one God ("Hear O Israel, the LORD is God, the LORD alone." Deuteronomy 6:4) not take offense at anyone who asserts (or whose wife asserts) that he can save America? How can serious Christians think God is speaking to them through the exploits or the statistics of a football player? God does speak to us, all the time, in scripture, in issues and events that challenge us, in our neighbor who needs us or the one who annoys us.
Maybe this is what we get when nearly every aspect of our lives is defined as a commodity, when our most holy days (holidays) are celebrated by gluttonous spending, when we measure our worth in terms of our wealth, our self-esteem in terms of our appearance. Maybe this is what happens. We begin to believe that a president can "save" us from our problems; we expect television shows to bring us messages from heaven; we worship Tim Tebow instead of worshipping Jesus. Maybe we've lost our minds - or just our common sense.
If you want to be saved, turn to God. God is waiting to receive you with joy. If you want to hear a message from God, pray, attend weekly worship, read scripture. Watching football is great - but it's just football. Let presidents be presidents (the job is hard enough without anyone expecting them to be the Messiah). Let Jesus be Jesus and let Tim Tebow be a guy who loves Jesus and plays quarterback.
Pastor Kris Franke Hill
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Differently Sainted
There's this man who gives away Christmas dinners every year. I get the privilege of distributing those meals because he prefers to remain anonymous. Today I brought a turkey, a bag of potatoes, dinner rolls, cans of corn, cans of green beans, a can of cranberry sauce, and a bag of stuffing mix to 4 different families - with one more yet to be delivered tomorrow. The recipients were an elderly woman on a fixed income (who plans to share her meal with a needy family in her apartment complex), a transgendered man/woman who works hard for very low pay and struggles to make ends meet, a family of four just getting back on their feet after months of unemployment, and a man who lives next door to the church and is looking for work.
The guy who purchases and gives this food says he does it in thankfulness to God who has richly blessed him. He lives in a modest home, works every day, and doesn't have much in the way of material things. In the years I’ve known him I’ve developed a deep, abiding affection and appreciation for him. That may not seem surprising considering his yearly generosity. But here's the thing... he and I are very different. We are different in precisely those ways that divide the citizens of our nation in this day and age.
Were he and I to discuss politics (which we never do) we would, no doubt, be polar opposites of one another. He listens to one well known TV news station; I listen to another. On social issues about which I am passionate, I suspect he would be equally passionate on the other side. We've probably never voted alike, and I'll bet we read and understand God's Word in vastly different ways. Even so, this man has a place deep inside my heart.
That is certainly not because I am a saintly person who speaks and acts graciously to those on the "other side" of current events and debates. Very often (too often) I do not. Like many these days, I am quick to label other people as "ignorant" or "callous,” call them "fear-mongers" because of their position on various social and political concerns. Politicians on the “other side” irritate and infuriate me; I believe they pontificate, manipulate and outright lie to the American people. My friend may well think the same about those who I support and respect.
The whole thing goes deeper than just what I say or think. A part of me despises people who do not see the world as I do on certain pressing issues - sexuality, gun control, the role of government, taxation and the economy, the essence of the Christian faith. My convictions are so fierce that I get angry at those who do not see things "plainly," as I see them. And it isn't just me. The people of this nation are polarized, divided - dare I say, divided against one another - on these matters. "We" do not like "them."
On all these matters, the man who gives the Christmas dinners would be a "them" to me, as would I to him. Despite this, I love him dearly. I honor him - and not just because he gives food away at Christmas. I admire how he works honestly and with integrity, I honor how he cared tenderly for his wife as she was dying, I respect his gentleness with animals, his concern toward those who struggle and his free admission that one day he might be numbered among them. I appreciate the way he loves his aging parents and his care of the earth.
So where does that leave me? He watches "that other news channel" for heaven's sake! Yet he is decent and compassionate and human, and I genuinely care for him. Right here is where Christ steps into the world – in body and blood, inhabiting those who move us even while we do not understand them. Not everything in life can be fully explained; not everything adds up. Surely Jesus is present and at work here, now, when "us" and "them" find mutual respect and even love for one another. Regardless of the sorry state of things, there is hope for the world – great, authentic hope - because Jesus still comes and dwells with us in human flesh.
Peace,
Pastor Kris
The guy who purchases and gives this food says he does it in thankfulness to God who has richly blessed him. He lives in a modest home, works every day, and doesn't have much in the way of material things. In the years I’ve known him I’ve developed a deep, abiding affection and appreciation for him. That may not seem surprising considering his yearly generosity. But here's the thing... he and I are very different. We are different in precisely those ways that divide the citizens of our nation in this day and age.
Were he and I to discuss politics (which we never do) we would, no doubt, be polar opposites of one another. He listens to one well known TV news station; I listen to another. On social issues about which I am passionate, I suspect he would be equally passionate on the other side. We've probably never voted alike, and I'll bet we read and understand God's Word in vastly different ways. Even so, this man has a place deep inside my heart.
That is certainly not because I am a saintly person who speaks and acts graciously to those on the "other side" of current events and debates. Very often (too often) I do not. Like many these days, I am quick to label other people as "ignorant" or "callous,” call them "fear-mongers" because of their position on various social and political concerns. Politicians on the “other side” irritate and infuriate me; I believe they pontificate, manipulate and outright lie to the American people. My friend may well think the same about those who I support and respect.
The whole thing goes deeper than just what I say or think. A part of me despises people who do not see the world as I do on certain pressing issues - sexuality, gun control, the role of government, taxation and the economy, the essence of the Christian faith. My convictions are so fierce that I get angry at those who do not see things "plainly," as I see them. And it isn't just me. The people of this nation are polarized, divided - dare I say, divided against one another - on these matters. "We" do not like "them."
On all these matters, the man who gives the Christmas dinners would be a "them" to me, as would I to him. Despite this, I love him dearly. I honor him - and not just because he gives food away at Christmas. I admire how he works honestly and with integrity, I honor how he cared tenderly for his wife as she was dying, I respect his gentleness with animals, his concern toward those who struggle and his free admission that one day he might be numbered among them. I appreciate the way he loves his aging parents and his care of the earth.
So where does that leave me? He watches "that other news channel" for heaven's sake! Yet he is decent and compassionate and human, and I genuinely care for him. Right here is where Christ steps into the world – in body and blood, inhabiting those who move us even while we do not understand them. Not everything in life can be fully explained; not everything adds up. Surely Jesus is present and at work here, now, when "us" and "them" find mutual respect and even love for one another. Regardless of the sorry state of things, there is hope for the world – great, authentic hope - because Jesus still comes and dwells with us in human flesh.
Peace,
Pastor Kris
Monday, October 24, 2011
Mentoring
I'm so excited! I have two students to mentor this year at Shepherd King's adopted school - Eisenhower Middle School. Next week I will meet with one of them, and the following week I'll meet the other.
When the school year began, the student I mentored from last year - N - was no longer enrolled at Eisenhower. I was disappointed because I'd become fond of him, but I knew he had planned to go live with his mother. The Counselor at Eisenhower found another student for me to see - Z - and just as that was set up, N returned to Eisenhower. I told her I would gladly see both of them, one on Monday mornings and the other on Tuesdays.
Before I go any further I have to confess - I have no special skills or wisdom to offer these two boys. What I have is time. I meet them at the school and we go to the library to talk for an hour. We talk about whatever is on their minds, or I might ask them a few questions about school or their particular interests. But the most important thing I offer them is an hour a week. For that one hour (40 minutes, really) I'm all theirs. I listen to them, encourage them, celebrate and lament with them, and occasionally offer words of guidance. My aim is to let them know that I care and, by meeting with them each week, to allow them to count on me.
Mentoring is not hard to do. You don't have to understand and help your student with homework; you don't have to have answers to their problems. Mostly you just have to commit some time to them and show you care. The benefits you - the mentor - receive are rich. You get to know a young person, grow to appreciate his/her abilities, see how he/she copes with challenges, and come to care about someone who is tied to you in no way other than by mentoring. It is a wonderful experience.
We've all been mentored by someone - an adult who took time for us when we were young, a colleague who helped us learn the ropes, Sunday school teachers, grandparents, friends who modeled faith for us and had confidence in us. In a few weeks the Church will celebrate its official "mentors" on All Saints Sunday. Saints are not people who are holier or more spiritual than others; they are ordinary individuals who have trusted God and followed Jesus in their own lives. They are mentors to all of us, their lives showing how we, too, can live.
One of my personal mentors or 'saints' currently is Leymah Gbowee, a Lutheran from Liberia who just won the Nobel Peace Prize. Ms. Gbowee helped organize the women of Liberia to protest the long standing civil war that had killed thousands of people and ravaged their homeland. Hundreds of women - Lutheran, Catholic, and Muslim - wore white and gathered in the center of town to call for an end to the war. Mostly they were silent, letting their presence speak for them. When official peace talks reached a stalemate, the women used their bodies to prevent the committee from leaving until an agreement had been reached. Former Liberian leader, Charles Taylor, is now in exile and a new, democratic leader has been elected. Ms. Gbowee is an inspiration to me and a model of how faith can lead people to work, peacefully and successfully, for change.
Who do you mentor? Consider volunteering at your local school as a mentor - you, too, can change a life for the better.
Peace,
Pastor Kris
When the school year began, the student I mentored from last year - N - was no longer enrolled at Eisenhower. I was disappointed because I'd become fond of him, but I knew he had planned to go live with his mother. The Counselor at Eisenhower found another student for me to see - Z - and just as that was set up, N returned to Eisenhower. I told her I would gladly see both of them, one on Monday mornings and the other on Tuesdays.
Before I go any further I have to confess - I have no special skills or wisdom to offer these two boys. What I have is time. I meet them at the school and we go to the library to talk for an hour. We talk about whatever is on their minds, or I might ask them a few questions about school or their particular interests. But the most important thing I offer them is an hour a week. For that one hour (40 minutes, really) I'm all theirs. I listen to them, encourage them, celebrate and lament with them, and occasionally offer words of guidance. My aim is to let them know that I care and, by meeting with them each week, to allow them to count on me.
Mentoring is not hard to do. You don't have to understand and help your student with homework; you don't have to have answers to their problems. Mostly you just have to commit some time to them and show you care. The benefits you - the mentor - receive are rich. You get to know a young person, grow to appreciate his/her abilities, see how he/she copes with challenges, and come to care about someone who is tied to you in no way other than by mentoring. It is a wonderful experience.
We've all been mentored by someone - an adult who took time for us when we were young, a colleague who helped us learn the ropes, Sunday school teachers, grandparents, friends who modeled faith for us and had confidence in us. In a few weeks the Church will celebrate its official "mentors" on All Saints Sunday. Saints are not people who are holier or more spiritual than others; they are ordinary individuals who have trusted God and followed Jesus in their own lives. They are mentors to all of us, their lives showing how we, too, can live.
One of my personal mentors or 'saints' currently is Leymah Gbowee, a Lutheran from Liberia who just won the Nobel Peace Prize. Ms. Gbowee helped organize the women of Liberia to protest the long standing civil war that had killed thousands of people and ravaged their homeland. Hundreds of women - Lutheran, Catholic, and Muslim - wore white and gathered in the center of town to call for an end to the war. Mostly they were silent, letting their presence speak for them. When official peace talks reached a stalemate, the women used their bodies to prevent the committee from leaving until an agreement had been reached. Former Liberian leader, Charles Taylor, is now in exile and a new, democratic leader has been elected. Ms. Gbowee is an inspiration to me and a model of how faith can lead people to work, peacefully and successfully, for change.
Who do you mentor? Consider volunteering at your local school as a mentor - you, too, can change a life for the better.
Peace,
Pastor Kris
Monday, October 17, 2011
Like Vacation
We don't go on vacation until the end of the week, and we'll only be in the hill country for three days, but in some ways vacation has already started. On Thursday Don and I will be at a small cabin near Vanderpool Texas, celebrating our 15th anniversary. We were at the same place last year for a few nights -- just a scattering of small cabins near the river, accessible to both Garner and Lost Maples, and a short, beautiful drive to Leakey. As I anticipate our upcoming trip I can almost smell the fresh hill country air, see the sun rising over the treetops, and hear the cooing of the doves.
When I've felt tired in the office this morning I've refreshed myself with thoughts of napping during vacation. I've escaped the sound of traffic rushing past my window by imagining those peaceful trails in the park. Vacation has already begun, here in my office, breaking into my daily routine with its own unique reality. It is coming. Soon there will be rest, enjoyment, long minutes and slow-moving hours of freedom. Because vacation is drawing near, its coming affects me today.
The kingdom of God is like that, too. Jesus initiated the kingdom of God on earth through his life, death, and resurrection. But it isn't fully here yet. We know that by observing the world around us. There is still pain and suffering here; there is still injustice and corruption here; we do not yet live in peace and harmony with one another. Where God rules as sovereign there is no hunger, no war, no crime, no disease, no death. When the reign of God comes everyone will have work to do (meaningful work), everyone will be healthy and well, and we will all treat each other with respect and kindness.
The world is not like that now, however. Nations are quick to go to war against one another, age old conflicts continue with newer, more modern weaponry. We work hard, buy things, invest money in the hope of retiring one day, yet others cannot find work, people are losing their homes to foreclosure, some are hungry, and many are frustrated. This is not how life is in God's realm. It is discouraging to see the disparity between the life God intends us to live and the one we do live. According to God's vision, there is enough for everyone - enough money, enough food, enough houses, enough work, enough friendship, dignity and love. Some day life will be like that, God's way, but that day has not yet arrived.
God's kingdom is not here in its fullness. But it has been begun in Jesus Christ and the completion of God's reign is coming. On that day when our Lord returns, things will change as dramatically as summer gives way to fall or winter to spring. Every person will live with dignity and humility - confident in his own worth and honoring the worth of others. Jealousies will vanish, grudges will disappear, wounds and scars will be healed. We will live honest, productive lives; our relationships will be truthful and loving; we will share habitually with friends and strangers alike and there will be no need to fear anyone. Creation itself will be restored - mountaintops alive with healthy trees, skies clear and radiant, waters flowing strong and clean.
As we await the fullness of God's kingdom we can already feel the effects of its presence. Throughout the world people are calling for justice and freedom; hope is stirring the air around us. Habitat for Humanity recently reached 500,000 houses built for low-income families - ordinary people working together have made that happen. More and more people are finding ways to recycle and to reduce their waste, striving to make the earth healthy and whole. And although traditional churches may not be as full as they once were, people young and old are looking for ways to encounter God, to know God, and to live in communion with God. The kingdom may not be here yet, but we can feel its presence, we can see its affect on our lives, we know it is coming soon and we are getting ready.
Jesus urges us to live how he did - as though the kingdom of God was already fully established. There may not be justice everywhere around us, but we can be just and fair to one another; we can expect justice in every situation. Where people are hurting, hungry, neglected we can respond with concern -- our hands ready to comfort and our ears to listen. We can trust that there is plenty of time, plenty of goods and money, plenty of room for everyone and so we do not have to rush or horde or oppose one another. By trusting we demonstrate that Jesus is lord of all. We can pool our resources, donate our time, and work to make a positive difference in the world. God's kingdom is near! Its nearness is rubbing off on us and on the way we live.
May the kingdom of God touch you and brighten your life. Look for signs of its presence here, now. It won't be long before God's kingdom comes and the whole world sings God's praise.
Peace,
Pastor Kris
When I've felt tired in the office this morning I've refreshed myself with thoughts of napping during vacation. I've escaped the sound of traffic rushing past my window by imagining those peaceful trails in the park. Vacation has already begun, here in my office, breaking into my daily routine with its own unique reality. It is coming. Soon there will be rest, enjoyment, long minutes and slow-moving hours of freedom. Because vacation is drawing near, its coming affects me today.
The kingdom of God is like that, too. Jesus initiated the kingdom of God on earth through his life, death, and resurrection. But it isn't fully here yet. We know that by observing the world around us. There is still pain and suffering here; there is still injustice and corruption here; we do not yet live in peace and harmony with one another. Where God rules as sovereign there is no hunger, no war, no crime, no disease, no death. When the reign of God comes everyone will have work to do (meaningful work), everyone will be healthy and well, and we will all treat each other with respect and kindness.
The world is not like that now, however. Nations are quick to go to war against one another, age old conflicts continue with newer, more modern weaponry. We work hard, buy things, invest money in the hope of retiring one day, yet others cannot find work, people are losing their homes to foreclosure, some are hungry, and many are frustrated. This is not how life is in God's realm. It is discouraging to see the disparity between the life God intends us to live and the one we do live. According to God's vision, there is enough for everyone - enough money, enough food, enough houses, enough work, enough friendship, dignity and love. Some day life will be like that, God's way, but that day has not yet arrived.
God's kingdom is not here in its fullness. But it has been begun in Jesus Christ and the completion of God's reign is coming. On that day when our Lord returns, things will change as dramatically as summer gives way to fall or winter to spring. Every person will live with dignity and humility - confident in his own worth and honoring the worth of others. Jealousies will vanish, grudges will disappear, wounds and scars will be healed. We will live honest, productive lives; our relationships will be truthful and loving; we will share habitually with friends and strangers alike and there will be no need to fear anyone. Creation itself will be restored - mountaintops alive with healthy trees, skies clear and radiant, waters flowing strong and clean.
As we await the fullness of God's kingdom we can already feel the effects of its presence. Throughout the world people are calling for justice and freedom; hope is stirring the air around us. Habitat for Humanity recently reached 500,000 houses built for low-income families - ordinary people working together have made that happen. More and more people are finding ways to recycle and to reduce their waste, striving to make the earth healthy and whole. And although traditional churches may not be as full as they once were, people young and old are looking for ways to encounter God, to know God, and to live in communion with God. The kingdom may not be here yet, but we can feel its presence, we can see its affect on our lives, we know it is coming soon and we are getting ready.
Jesus urges us to live how he did - as though the kingdom of God was already fully established. There may not be justice everywhere around us, but we can be just and fair to one another; we can expect justice in every situation. Where people are hurting, hungry, neglected we can respond with concern -- our hands ready to comfort and our ears to listen. We can trust that there is plenty of time, plenty of goods and money, plenty of room for everyone and so we do not have to rush or horde or oppose one another. By trusting we demonstrate that Jesus is lord of all. We can pool our resources, donate our time, and work to make a positive difference in the world. God's kingdom is near! Its nearness is rubbing off on us and on the way we live.
May the kingdom of God touch you and brighten your life. Look for signs of its presence here, now. It won't be long before God's kingdom comes and the whole world sings God's praise.
Peace,
Pastor Kris
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Bigger, Faster.
What a marvelous world we live in. Today the Nobel Prize for physics was awarded to three American scientists for their recent discovery that the pace at which the universe is expanding is accelerating. Although that sentence is easy to understand grammatically, the concept is hard to grasp: the entire universe is expanding at an ever increasing rate. The image that comes to mind for me is of taffy being pulled and stretched more and more.
"O LORD our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory above the heavens." (Psalm 8:1)
Scientists, however, tend to compare this process to a mound of raisin bread dough. As the dough rises (increasing in size) the raisins are pulled farther and farther apart. Think of the raisins as galaxies and you have a simple illustration of what is happening in our universe - the whole thing is getting bigger, wider, and as a result the galaxies are moving away from each other.
Scientists say this is a good thing. If the universe were to stop expanding it would collapse upon itself (because of the pull of gravity). My mind cannot quite picture that, but surely the earth would not survive such an event. Space itself is expanding - there's more of it all the time. Greek philosophers used to wonder whether the universe was infinite or finite. If it is finite and you stuck your hand out at the edge, where would it go? What an amazing question to contemplate.
If the universe is ever expanding what does that say about us and our place in it? Out in the country, away from the lights of the city, when you gaze up at the night sky with its millions of stars, it becomes obvious how small a single human being is by comparison. When we think of the countless generations that have preceded us and all those that will follow us, our lives, our communities, the nations and their struggles also seem small and passing. Is our own significance being reduced as the universe gets bigger?
"When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars that you have established, what are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals, that you care for them?" (Psalm 8:3-4)
And yet God does care for us, even though we are tiny in comparison with the universe, even though - considering the breadth of time - our days are but a sigh. There are so many wonders in the created world we'll never fully understand them all. But the knowledge that science has gained of the universe and how it operates is fascinating.
"You have given (human beings) dominion over the works of your hands; you have put all things under their feet." (Psalm 8:6)
Praise God for our ability to learn and understand. Praise God for this incredible world where we live. Praise God for caring about all of us regardless when or how long we live. Truly God's being and God's activity is more than our minds can fathom.
"O LORD our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!" (Psalm 8:9)
Pastor Kris
"O LORD our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory above the heavens." (Psalm 8:1)
Scientists, however, tend to compare this process to a mound of raisin bread dough. As the dough rises (increasing in size) the raisins are pulled farther and farther apart. Think of the raisins as galaxies and you have a simple illustration of what is happening in our universe - the whole thing is getting bigger, wider, and as a result the galaxies are moving away from each other.
Scientists say this is a good thing. If the universe were to stop expanding it would collapse upon itself (because of the pull of gravity). My mind cannot quite picture that, but surely the earth would not survive such an event. Space itself is expanding - there's more of it all the time. Greek philosophers used to wonder whether the universe was infinite or finite. If it is finite and you stuck your hand out at the edge, where would it go? What an amazing question to contemplate.
If the universe is ever expanding what does that say about us and our place in it? Out in the country, away from the lights of the city, when you gaze up at the night sky with its millions of stars, it becomes obvious how small a single human being is by comparison. When we think of the countless generations that have preceded us and all those that will follow us, our lives, our communities, the nations and their struggles also seem small and passing. Is our own significance being reduced as the universe gets bigger?
"When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars that you have established, what are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals, that you care for them?" (Psalm 8:3-4)
And yet God does care for us, even though we are tiny in comparison with the universe, even though - considering the breadth of time - our days are but a sigh. There are so many wonders in the created world we'll never fully understand them all. But the knowledge that science has gained of the universe and how it operates is fascinating.
"You have given (human beings) dominion over the works of your hands; you have put all things under their feet." (Psalm 8:6)
Praise God for our ability to learn and understand. Praise God for this incredible world where we live. Praise God for caring about all of us regardless when or how long we live. Truly God's being and God's activity is more than our minds can fathom.
"O LORD our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!" (Psalm 8:9)
Pastor Kris
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Honk if you love Jesus
We were grateful that the weather had cooled ever so slightly last Saturday, September 10th. Instead of a high temperature of around 102 it was only expected to get up to about 96. Yea! Six degrees -- when you're standing at the intersection of a couple busy streets, holding handmade signs for passersby to read -- makes a difference.
And that's what we were doing last Saturday, six youth and two adults from Shepherd King. We were participating in the "Living Lutheran Creed" - an event stretching across the country to share some good news. The purpose was for Lutherans to get "out of the box", to push themselves to interact with their neighbors in new ways. Lutherans, as a body, are not very outgoing. We usually prefer to do our faith-related stuff inside the church building. We would like to have visitors and new people in our fellowship but we expect them to come to us. Taking part in the "Living Lutheran Creed" got us outside our church doors and into the street to greet folks with the news of God's love.
Making a living Lutheran creed, people from congregations around the nation made signs expressing what they believe and then held those signs up at busy street corners. Youth from Shepherd King created signs saying, "I believe Jesus saves," and "I believe God = Love" and "I believe there is hope for tomorrow," and "Honk if you love Jesus." By ten o'clock on Saturday morning we were stationed at Blanco and West, and at San Pedro and Ramsey, holding our signs for all the world to see. We had no idea how we would be received.
Cameron had made the sign that said "honk if you love Jesus." He and his sister counted 153 honks in response to that invitation in just over an hour. In addition to the honks we received lots of waves and smiles, too. Putting myself in "the other's" shoes, I wondered how I would have reacted if I'd seen people standing by the side of the road holding signs that said "I believe... God loves you (and me)," or "I believe... live life, love God." My first thought might have been "uh-oh, who are these weirdoes out on the street." Would I have been annoyed, thinking someone was trying to "preach" to me? I don't know. Wondering about it made me appreciate that much more the kindness of those who greeted us with joy and enthusiasm.
I had assumed we would feel a bit awkward and exposed standing there with our signs, but the smiles and greetings of passersby made us feel welcomed and appreciated. As we stood with our signs it became apparent that, although our congregation is not large, we belong to a much bigger family of Christian people in the city of San Antonio. People of various races and ages gave us encouragement and support showing themselves to be, not strangers but our brothers and sisters in Christ. We thought we were bringing God's love to the community and found that our neighbors gave God's love right back to us - warm and personal and real.
Thanks be to God who responds to our worries with signs of hope and assurance. Truly God is here among us in this time and this place, lifting us up, showing us our commonality with one another. Thanks be to God who loves us, to Jesus who saves.
Peace,
Pastor Kris
And that's what we were doing last Saturday, six youth and two adults from Shepherd King. We were participating in the "Living Lutheran Creed" - an event stretching across the country to share some good news. The purpose was for Lutherans to get "out of the box", to push themselves to interact with their neighbors in new ways. Lutherans, as a body, are not very outgoing. We usually prefer to do our faith-related stuff inside the church building. We would like to have visitors and new people in our fellowship but we expect them to come to us. Taking part in the "Living Lutheran Creed" got us outside our church doors and into the street to greet folks with the news of God's love.
Making a living Lutheran creed, people from congregations around the nation made signs expressing what they believe and then held those signs up at busy street corners. Youth from Shepherd King created signs saying, "I believe Jesus saves," and "I believe God = Love" and "I believe there is hope for tomorrow," and "Honk if you love Jesus." By ten o'clock on Saturday morning we were stationed at Blanco and West, and at San Pedro and Ramsey, holding our signs for all the world to see. We had no idea how we would be received.
Cameron had made the sign that said "honk if you love Jesus." He and his sister counted 153 honks in response to that invitation in just over an hour. In addition to the honks we received lots of waves and smiles, too. Putting myself in "the other's" shoes, I wondered how I would have reacted if I'd seen people standing by the side of the road holding signs that said "I believe... God loves you (and me)," or "I believe... live life, love God." My first thought might have been "uh-oh, who are these weirdoes out on the street." Would I have been annoyed, thinking someone was trying to "preach" to me? I don't know. Wondering about it made me appreciate that much more the kindness of those who greeted us with joy and enthusiasm.
I had assumed we would feel a bit awkward and exposed standing there with our signs, but the smiles and greetings of passersby made us feel welcomed and appreciated. As we stood with our signs it became apparent that, although our congregation is not large, we belong to a much bigger family of Christian people in the city of San Antonio. People of various races and ages gave us encouragement and support showing themselves to be, not strangers but our brothers and sisters in Christ. We thought we were bringing God's love to the community and found that our neighbors gave God's love right back to us - warm and personal and real.
Thanks be to God who responds to our worries with signs of hope and assurance. Truly God is here among us in this time and this place, lifting us up, showing us our commonality with one another. Thanks be to God who loves us, to Jesus who saves.
Peace,
Pastor Kris
Monday, August 29, 2011
Burning Bush, Red Truck
Sometimes I'm jealous of Moses. In that burning bush, afire but not consumed, he had a powerful encounter with God. Who wouldn't want that - a chance to see God, to talk with God one on one, to hear God's voice? Surely after that meeting with God Moses never wondered again if God truly existed, if God was dedicated to Moses and the people of Israel. He had heard the promise from God's own mouth "I will be with you."
I long to see God. I yearn to hear God's voice and know beyond a doubt that God is here, that God cares for us. As the psalmist says (Psalm 42) "As a hart (deer) longs for flowing streams so longs my soul for thee, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and behold the face of God?"
In the National Cathedral in Washington DC one can sense the nearness of God, beautiful and mysterious. Sitting beneath those soaring arches and impossibly high ceilings with the stone floor underfoot, hearing how sound both carries and dissipates in the cavernous space, the mighty presence of God is strong and transcendent. Evening prayer in the nave is sublime; voices solemnly chant the liturgy while fading light gleans through stained glass windows that depict fire, the saints, creation. In the Cathedral, God seems near indeed.
The National Cathedral, however, is far away from Texas. There may be burning bushes around here but not the kind Moses saw, just products of this persistent drought. Still I want to see God, I want to hear God speak and know in the depths of my heart and mind that God is, that God is with us in our day.
In Jesus we learn to look for God, not in glamour and glory, but in ordinary aspects of life. Jesus resembled you and me - a human person - yet he was God in the flesh. Jesus distributed bread and wine for his friends to eat and drink, naming it his own body and blood. Jesus promised to be with us whenever we gather in his name. Through Jesus we have seen that God comes to those who suffer, that God lives among the poor, that God sits in prison alongside the incarcerated. Cathedrals are marvelous places, but God is found in our ordinary, mundane lives.
My Dad used to say that God's grace is a lot like pecans. Our family did not plant the pecan trees in my parent's yard, but there they stand - tall and fruitful. Fall comes and the pecans drop to the ground without our aid. All we have to do is pick them up. Likewise, we do nothing to earn God's grace, it is simply given and all we have to do is receive it. I've seen glimpses of God, heard God's voice, so many times in my Dad.
The other day as I walked to my car in the parking lot I saw, halfway down the row, a man sitting in a red pickup truck. He sat there, window rolled down, smoking a cigarette, talking on a cell phone. As I passed I heard his deep voice say, kindly, "you're a pain in the ass, but I love you." I had to smile. It sounded like the voice of God, talking to me, to you, to the whole world. Individually and together we can be a great pain and a royal mess, yet God loves us still. What a wonderful thing to hear.
No burning bush experience for me, just a red pickup, a Texas farmer, and a word from the Lord. I think that will do, for now.
Peace,
Pastor Kris
I long to see God. I yearn to hear God's voice and know beyond a doubt that God is here, that God cares for us. As the psalmist says (Psalm 42) "As a hart (deer) longs for flowing streams so longs my soul for thee, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and behold the face of God?"
In the National Cathedral in Washington DC one can sense the nearness of God, beautiful and mysterious. Sitting beneath those soaring arches and impossibly high ceilings with the stone floor underfoot, hearing how sound both carries and dissipates in the cavernous space, the mighty presence of God is strong and transcendent. Evening prayer in the nave is sublime; voices solemnly chant the liturgy while fading light gleans through stained glass windows that depict fire, the saints, creation. In the Cathedral, God seems near indeed.
The National Cathedral, however, is far away from Texas. There may be burning bushes around here but not the kind Moses saw, just products of this persistent drought. Still I want to see God, I want to hear God speak and know in the depths of my heart and mind that God is, that God is with us in our day.
In Jesus we learn to look for God, not in glamour and glory, but in ordinary aspects of life. Jesus resembled you and me - a human person - yet he was God in the flesh. Jesus distributed bread and wine for his friends to eat and drink, naming it his own body and blood. Jesus promised to be with us whenever we gather in his name. Through Jesus we have seen that God comes to those who suffer, that God lives among the poor, that God sits in prison alongside the incarcerated. Cathedrals are marvelous places, but God is found in our ordinary, mundane lives.
My Dad used to say that God's grace is a lot like pecans. Our family did not plant the pecan trees in my parent's yard, but there they stand - tall and fruitful. Fall comes and the pecans drop to the ground without our aid. All we have to do is pick them up. Likewise, we do nothing to earn God's grace, it is simply given and all we have to do is receive it. I've seen glimpses of God, heard God's voice, so many times in my Dad.
The other day as I walked to my car in the parking lot I saw, halfway down the row, a man sitting in a red pickup truck. He sat there, window rolled down, smoking a cigarette, talking on a cell phone. As I passed I heard his deep voice say, kindly, "you're a pain in the ass, but I love you." I had to smile. It sounded like the voice of God, talking to me, to you, to the whole world. Individually and together we can be a great pain and a royal mess, yet God loves us still. What a wonderful thing to hear.
No burning bush experience for me, just a red pickup, a Texas farmer, and a word from the Lord. I think that will do, for now.
Peace,
Pastor Kris
Monday, August 22, 2011
Blood and Body
I'm haunted by a song, its words and melody running repeatedly through my mind. We sang it recently during the Lord's Supper as people came up to receive the bread and the wine. The song is well known and we sang the refrain from memory: "bread of life from heaven, your blood and body given; we eat this bread and drink this cup until you come again."
The words and the tune guide us to the meal where we remember our Lord's death and resurrection. People file forward, one after another, humming or singing along "bread of life from heaven, your blood and body given..." their song echoing their actions as they come for the bread and wine. It's a pleasant song, a comfortable melody. Or it has been.
These days it's different. I picture her son lying on the pavement, blood everywhere, the assailants fleeing, leaving him for dead. No one aids him or calls for help. He regains consciousness, struggles to his feet and walks inside, calls his parents and they come. They rush him to the hospital, his face crushed from the heels of the boots.
"Bread of life from heaven, your blood and body given..." Their wrecked bodies mingle in my mind - her son's and our Savior's. Out in the parking lot he'd stepped in to help another man who was being attacked. That man got away and the group turned their fury on him - kicking, stomping his head. They left him broken and bleeding.
Anger grips him and he wishes he could find those men, beat them and leave them bruised and bloodied. The police have called it attempted homicide but say they can do nothing. At night his father howls with rage and cries in frustration. His mother listens, comforts her family, talks sense to them, decides how to proceed, and lies in bed with unrelenting images of her battered son.
"Bread of life from heaven, your blood and body given..." Your blood. Your body given - kicked, beaten, spat upon, nailed to a cross and left to die. His mother watched from a distance. God thundered in heaven, ripped the Temple curtain in anguish. In a violent assault - humiliating, painful, horrifying - the Son of God died. On the third day he rose - victorious over violence - with new life for all.
Can we lay our anger, our wounds, our own humiliations at the table of the Lord? Can we seek healing, justice and peace through his broken body and spilled blood? Imagine the people coming forward through the ages with hands outstretched - mothers of the disappeared in Argentina, victims of abuse, fathers of dead soldiers, people terrorized by gangs, families from Columbine, Oklahoma City, 9-11 approaching the altar for consolation, for hope, for a new world to inhabit.
"Bread of life from heaven, your blood and body given, we eat this bread and drink this cup until you come again." Come quickly, Lord Jesus, with healing for the nations. Come to us and help us live, that we may reject violence and vengeance. We vow not to strike back blow for blow; help us keep our vow. We cling instead to your love and truth. Guide us, feed us, and redeem us, Bread of life from heaven. Bring us justice. Bring us peace.
Pastor Kris
The words and the tune guide us to the meal where we remember our Lord's death and resurrection. People file forward, one after another, humming or singing along "bread of life from heaven, your blood and body given..." their song echoing their actions as they come for the bread and wine. It's a pleasant song, a comfortable melody. Or it has been.
These days it's different. I picture her son lying on the pavement, blood everywhere, the assailants fleeing, leaving him for dead. No one aids him or calls for help. He regains consciousness, struggles to his feet and walks inside, calls his parents and they come. They rush him to the hospital, his face crushed from the heels of the boots.
"Bread of life from heaven, your blood and body given..." Their wrecked bodies mingle in my mind - her son's and our Savior's. Out in the parking lot he'd stepped in to help another man who was being attacked. That man got away and the group turned their fury on him - kicking, stomping his head. They left him broken and bleeding.
Anger grips him and he wishes he could find those men, beat them and leave them bruised and bloodied. The police have called it attempted homicide but say they can do nothing. At night his father howls with rage and cries in frustration. His mother listens, comforts her family, talks sense to them, decides how to proceed, and lies in bed with unrelenting images of her battered son.
"Bread of life from heaven, your blood and body given..." Your blood. Your body given - kicked, beaten, spat upon, nailed to a cross and left to die. His mother watched from a distance. God thundered in heaven, ripped the Temple curtain in anguish. In a violent assault - humiliating, painful, horrifying - the Son of God died. On the third day he rose - victorious over violence - with new life for all.
Can we lay our anger, our wounds, our own humiliations at the table of the Lord? Can we seek healing, justice and peace through his broken body and spilled blood? Imagine the people coming forward through the ages with hands outstretched - mothers of the disappeared in Argentina, victims of abuse, fathers of dead soldiers, people terrorized by gangs, families from Columbine, Oklahoma City, 9-11 approaching the altar for consolation, for hope, for a new world to inhabit.
"Bread of life from heaven, your blood and body given, we eat this bread and drink this cup until you come again." Come quickly, Lord Jesus, with healing for the nations. Come to us and help us live, that we may reject violence and vengeance. We vow not to strike back blow for blow; help us keep our vow. We cling instead to your love and truth. Guide us, feed us, and redeem us, Bread of life from heaven. Bring us justice. Bring us peace.
Pastor Kris
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Redemption and Violence
In Luke 6:27-29 Jesus says, "Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also." Passages like this have guided Christians throughout the ages, turning them from retaliation and vengeance to a non-violent way of addressing injustice. Martin Luther King Jr., and his associates led the Civil Rights Movement following this principle, this idea of resistance and non-compliance rather than violent confrontation. In South Africa, Nelson Mandela worked to win freedom and equal rights for blacks through reason, persuasion, and resistance. Great good can be done when we refrain from striking back, when we meet violence with truth rather than revenge.
The son of a good friend of mine was savagely beaten a few nights ago. I have known him since he was 8 years old. A sweet child, he is now becoming a wonderful man. Leaving a club, he saw several men beating one man. He intervened and soon found himself the target of the group's rage. He was kicked in the head repeatedly until his nose was broken and his sinus cavities shattered. Thanks be to God he is alive; he is facing a long recovery period.
When I heard about this I was furious. My friends are such good people, gracious, faithful, community-minded. Imagining the awful attack on this young man I found myself wanting to find those responsible and join with others in beating them senseless. That is often my first reaction when I hear that someone I care about has been hurt. I want to hurt someone in return. It feels justified; hitting back seems like what the other person deserves.
And maybe it is, but if we all hit back when we are injured, spit back when we've been insulted, where does it end? In my mind and heart I cherish Jesus' words, I embrace them: "love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you..." but my being, my person wants to react just the opposite. My sense of outrage longs to kick back when I've been kicked.
Theologian and author Walter Wink says we live in a culture founded on "the myth of redemptive violence." We believe that when danger comes we need bigger guns, more strength, and better weapons to fend it off. There's good evidence that, indeed, we do accept the myth of redemptive violence. Most of our stories show how those who've been attacked prevail by using greater violence - cowboys outshoot the villains, the Karate Kid out-fights the bullies, Men in Black out-zap the aliens. We live in gated communities, arm our homes with alarm systems, and keep a gun in the bedside table all in an attempt to keep ourselves safe.
Our salvation, however, does not come through force or domination. We are saved by One who allowed himself to be broken by violence. Insulted, whipped, spat upon Jesus did not seek revenge. He succumbed to violence, holding fast to love and truth. If Jesus is our Lord, then his way of non-violence is also our way. If our top allegiance is to Jesus then we will refuse to strike back, refuse to engage in violent behavior. It is one or the other - either we are saved by weapons and fighting, or we are saved by Jesus. We cannot have it both ways.
I pray for my friends and their son, that their lives will be restored and their wounds healed. I pray for those who senselessly beat a fine young man, that God's light will shine on them and they will be changed. And I pray for myself, that I will reject vengeance and choose truth and love. Truth and love, together, expose what is false and hold accountable those who are unjust. Only truth and love - God's love - will lead us all to true redemption.
Peace,
Pastor Kris
The son of a good friend of mine was savagely beaten a few nights ago. I have known him since he was 8 years old. A sweet child, he is now becoming a wonderful man. Leaving a club, he saw several men beating one man. He intervened and soon found himself the target of the group's rage. He was kicked in the head repeatedly until his nose was broken and his sinus cavities shattered. Thanks be to God he is alive; he is facing a long recovery period.
When I heard about this I was furious. My friends are such good people, gracious, faithful, community-minded. Imagining the awful attack on this young man I found myself wanting to find those responsible and join with others in beating them senseless. That is often my first reaction when I hear that someone I care about has been hurt. I want to hurt someone in return. It feels justified; hitting back seems like what the other person deserves.
And maybe it is, but if we all hit back when we are injured, spit back when we've been insulted, where does it end? In my mind and heart I cherish Jesus' words, I embrace them: "love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you..." but my being, my person wants to react just the opposite. My sense of outrage longs to kick back when I've been kicked.
Theologian and author Walter Wink says we live in a culture founded on "the myth of redemptive violence." We believe that when danger comes we need bigger guns, more strength, and better weapons to fend it off. There's good evidence that, indeed, we do accept the myth of redemptive violence. Most of our stories show how those who've been attacked prevail by using greater violence - cowboys outshoot the villains, the Karate Kid out-fights the bullies, Men in Black out-zap the aliens. We live in gated communities, arm our homes with alarm systems, and keep a gun in the bedside table all in an attempt to keep ourselves safe.
Our salvation, however, does not come through force or domination. We are saved by One who allowed himself to be broken by violence. Insulted, whipped, spat upon Jesus did not seek revenge. He succumbed to violence, holding fast to love and truth. If Jesus is our Lord, then his way of non-violence is also our way. If our top allegiance is to Jesus then we will refuse to strike back, refuse to engage in violent behavior. It is one or the other - either we are saved by weapons and fighting, or we are saved by Jesus. We cannot have it both ways.
I pray for my friends and their son, that their lives will be restored and their wounds healed. I pray for those who senselessly beat a fine young man, that God's light will shine on them and they will be changed. And I pray for myself, that I will reject vengeance and choose truth and love. Truth and love, together, expose what is false and hold accountable those who are unjust. Only truth and love - God's love - will lead us all to true redemption.
Peace,
Pastor Kris
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Jesus and the 'dogs'
There's a cartoon on our refrigerator, the one frame kind, with a picture of a dog, a man and a woman. The dog is sitting behind the man who is addressing the woman. The dog looks dejected and there's a tear on its face. The man is saying to the woman, "he'd just appreciate it if you'd stop referring to him as 'the dog'." That man and woman could be my husband and I; whenever I mention Redbone as 'the dog' Don looks at me in exaggerated alarm and says "the dog?" He prefers to call Redbone 'the pup.' It's nicer.
This Sunday's lectionary (assigned scripture readings) gives us a troubling story from Matthew 15. A Canaanite woman - a non-Jew, someone who is not 'one of us' - calls out to Jesus asking him to heal her daughter. First he ignores her completely. Then when his disciples complain about her nagging, Jesus turns to the woman and tells her he can't help her because she's not an Israelite. His mission, he says, is only to the people of Israel. She replies, simply, "Lord, help me." Jesus' next answer is disturbing. He says "it isn't fair to throw the children's food to the dogs." But she persists, saying "yes, but even the dogs get the crumbs that fall from the master's table." Finally, Jesus speaks to her as a person, calling her 'woman' and commenting on her strong faith, and he grants her wish.
The resolution of the encounter, however, does not remove the earlier offense. "The dogs," Jesus said to her. Some biblical scholars have argued that the word Jesus used really means 'little dogs' or 'puppies.' I suppose that's 'nicer,' but calling someone a 'little dog' is still insulting. Why does Jesus say that? We think of Jesus as always being in the right, as always showing compassion for hurting people and this is so very unkind, so wrong. I want to explain it away, make some excuse for Jesus but I cannot. The story troubles me, gets under my skin, makes me uncomfortable. Name-calling is so ugly.
Name-calling is ugly, but we do it. There are derogatory names for all races, classes and types of people and we know plenty of them. "Spic, wetback, blimp, chink, faggot" - hurtful, degrading terms all of them. We hear them and sometimes we use them, aloud or muttered under our breath - "idiot, doofus, reetard, scumbag, loser." Why do we say these things? Those of us who are Christian wear the name of Christ. When we call someone "faggot" or "reetard" or "#*!%-head" it's as if Jesus is speaking that way. Those words wound, anger, and shame people; they say that the other is not worth our concern, our help, our consideration. Who are we to make such judgments?
In Matthew 15 it appears that the Canaanite woman broke through Jesus' prejudice and established herself as a human being in his sight. Undettered by Jesus' initial judgment, she asserted her claim on Jesus' concern and grace. And Jesus changed his mind, reversed his position and extended mercy to her. Even a Canaanite woman is worthy of God's love and care. Even a foreigner is acceptable in God's kingdom. She is not a 'dog' but a woman, a child of God.
This story remains troubling, but it may be especially so because we know ourselves to be guilty of what we see Jesus do. We're uncomfortable because the episode shows us ourselves. We brush people off with a label. We dehumanize others with slurs and unkind remarks. Will we, though, can we - like Jesus - change our minds and come to see all people as beloved by God? If a Canaanite woman is acceptable, who is unacceptable to God by virtue of their class or ethnicity or status? Anyone? This scripture says that all who call on the Lord, all who seek God's help, receive God's characteristic loving-kindness. No one is left out for being too fat or too poor or too foreign or too dark-skinned or too simple. All are welcome in God's house. And that's good to know - for us, and for our neighbors.
Shalom,
Pastor Kris
This Sunday's lectionary (assigned scripture readings) gives us a troubling story from Matthew 15. A Canaanite woman - a non-Jew, someone who is not 'one of us' - calls out to Jesus asking him to heal her daughter. First he ignores her completely. Then when his disciples complain about her nagging, Jesus turns to the woman and tells her he can't help her because she's not an Israelite. His mission, he says, is only to the people of Israel. She replies, simply, "Lord, help me." Jesus' next answer is disturbing. He says "it isn't fair to throw the children's food to the dogs." But she persists, saying "yes, but even the dogs get the crumbs that fall from the master's table." Finally, Jesus speaks to her as a person, calling her 'woman' and commenting on her strong faith, and he grants her wish.
The resolution of the encounter, however, does not remove the earlier offense. "The dogs," Jesus said to her. Some biblical scholars have argued that the word Jesus used really means 'little dogs' or 'puppies.' I suppose that's 'nicer,' but calling someone a 'little dog' is still insulting. Why does Jesus say that? We think of Jesus as always being in the right, as always showing compassion for hurting people and this is so very unkind, so wrong. I want to explain it away, make some excuse for Jesus but I cannot. The story troubles me, gets under my skin, makes me uncomfortable. Name-calling is so ugly.
Name-calling is ugly, but we do it. There are derogatory names for all races, classes and types of people and we know plenty of them. "Spic, wetback, blimp, chink, faggot" - hurtful, degrading terms all of them. We hear them and sometimes we use them, aloud or muttered under our breath - "idiot, doofus, reetard, scumbag, loser." Why do we say these things? Those of us who are Christian wear the name of Christ. When we call someone "faggot" or "reetard" or "#*!%-head" it's as if Jesus is speaking that way. Those words wound, anger, and shame people; they say that the other is not worth our concern, our help, our consideration. Who are we to make such judgments?
In Matthew 15 it appears that the Canaanite woman broke through Jesus' prejudice and established herself as a human being in his sight. Undettered by Jesus' initial judgment, she asserted her claim on Jesus' concern and grace. And Jesus changed his mind, reversed his position and extended mercy to her. Even a Canaanite woman is worthy of God's love and care. Even a foreigner is acceptable in God's kingdom. She is not a 'dog' but a woman, a child of God.
This story remains troubling, but it may be especially so because we know ourselves to be guilty of what we see Jesus do. We're uncomfortable because the episode shows us ourselves. We brush people off with a label. We dehumanize others with slurs and unkind remarks. Will we, though, can we - like Jesus - change our minds and come to see all people as beloved by God? If a Canaanite woman is acceptable, who is unacceptable to God by virtue of their class or ethnicity or status? Anyone? This scripture says that all who call on the Lord, all who seek God's help, receive God's characteristic loving-kindness. No one is left out for being too fat or too poor or too foreign or too dark-skinned or too simple. All are welcome in God's house. And that's good to know - for us, and for our neighbors.
Shalom,
Pastor Kris
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Drought and Idolatry
I dream of rain. In this eighth month of the drought, the fifth month of 100 degree temperatures, my mind searches for relief wherever possible. It happened again last night - I dreamed I heard rain falling on the roof, tapping against the windows. Calm and serenity settled over me as I imagined the earth and her creatures enjoying a good, long drink. But then I awoke and saw the same parched grass and wilted gardens as before.
When Ahab was King of Israel he openly loved other things more than he loved God. He loved the power, the attention, the wealth, the status of being king. Scripture says that Ahab worshipped Baal, the Caananite god. In doing so he committed idolatry. Idolatry, the most common of all sins, does not have to involve Baal. We are idolatrous whenever we value, trust, and love something above God. Martin Luther, in his Large Catechism, says "Anything on which your heart relies and depends...is really your God." Any time we replace God with something lesser in our hearts and minds we commit idolatry.
Not only did Ahab commit idolatry by 'relying and depending' upon something other than God, he led his people astray by his actions. Many of the Israelite people followed their King's example and built altars to Baal. God, who had given himself to Israel in a loving, lasting relationship, was angered. As a response God sent a severe drought upon the land. For three years there was no rain, or even dew, in Israel. Streams and rivers dried up; crops failed; people and livestock alike grew desperate for water. Baal, to whom they had prayed, could not make it rain and God was unwilling to do so until the King and the people recognized their fault and changed course.
Why has it not rained in Texas for the past eight months? It could be El Nino or La Nina has brought this latest drought. Maybe our arid conditions come from global warming or shifting weather patterns throughout the country. In scripture, the prophet Elijah had to sweep the land clear of idolatry before God sent rain. Elijah rebuked the King and the people for their devotion to Baal; he reasserted God's sovereignty and slaughtered the Baal prophets. Finally Elijah bowed before God, sending his servant to check the horizon for a change in the weather. Six times the servant saw nothing, but the last time he saw a cloud rise up out of the sea. Soon rain was pummeling the ground, pouring down on all Israel like the grace of God.
Since the recession the median wealth of white households in America is 20 times greater than that of African-American households, 18 times higher than that of Hispanic households. In addressing our nation's deficit and raising the debt ceiling the United States government opted to cut spending and raise no taxes on the wealthy or close loop-holes for large corporations. In Texas, spending has been slashed in education and other public services while tax-payers foot the $10,000 a month bill for the governor's rental house. Could rampant idolatry be the reason we are in the midst of a severe drought? Are we following the course of Ahab, loving and serving the wrong things?
"No one can serve two masters," Jesus said, "(you) will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth." (Matthew 6:24) We cannot worship money and worship God; one of them has to give.
I dream of rain -- water falling from the sky, justice rolling like a river throughout the land. How long must we wait for the drought to end? How long must God wait on us to turn from idolatry?
Pastor Kris
When Ahab was King of Israel he openly loved other things more than he loved God. He loved the power, the attention, the wealth, the status of being king. Scripture says that Ahab worshipped Baal, the Caananite god. In doing so he committed idolatry. Idolatry, the most common of all sins, does not have to involve Baal. We are idolatrous whenever we value, trust, and love something above God. Martin Luther, in his Large Catechism, says "Anything on which your heart relies and depends...is really your God." Any time we replace God with something lesser in our hearts and minds we commit idolatry.
Not only did Ahab commit idolatry by 'relying and depending' upon something other than God, he led his people astray by his actions. Many of the Israelite people followed their King's example and built altars to Baal. God, who had given himself to Israel in a loving, lasting relationship, was angered. As a response God sent a severe drought upon the land. For three years there was no rain, or even dew, in Israel. Streams and rivers dried up; crops failed; people and livestock alike grew desperate for water. Baal, to whom they had prayed, could not make it rain and God was unwilling to do so until the King and the people recognized their fault and changed course.
Why has it not rained in Texas for the past eight months? It could be El Nino or La Nina has brought this latest drought. Maybe our arid conditions come from global warming or shifting weather patterns throughout the country. In scripture, the prophet Elijah had to sweep the land clear of idolatry before God sent rain. Elijah rebuked the King and the people for their devotion to Baal; he reasserted God's sovereignty and slaughtered the Baal prophets. Finally Elijah bowed before God, sending his servant to check the horizon for a change in the weather. Six times the servant saw nothing, but the last time he saw a cloud rise up out of the sea. Soon rain was pummeling the ground, pouring down on all Israel like the grace of God.
Since the recession the median wealth of white households in America is 20 times greater than that of African-American households, 18 times higher than that of Hispanic households. In addressing our nation's deficit and raising the debt ceiling the United States government opted to cut spending and raise no taxes on the wealthy or close loop-holes for large corporations. In Texas, spending has been slashed in education and other public services while tax-payers foot the $10,000 a month bill for the governor's rental house. Could rampant idolatry be the reason we are in the midst of a severe drought? Are we following the course of Ahab, loving and serving the wrong things?
"No one can serve two masters," Jesus said, "(you) will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth." (Matthew 6:24) We cannot worship money and worship God; one of them has to give.
I dream of rain -- water falling from the sky, justice rolling like a river throughout the land. How long must we wait for the drought to end? How long must God wait on us to turn from idolatry?
Pastor Kris
Monday, July 25, 2011
Which side?
A newsletter article from the Alban Institute cited a recent study showing that the religious beliefs of young people (age 18 to 23) in our nation mirrors that of their parents. This is not surprising; it is parents who introduce their children (or don't) to faith in God. However, the study revealed something else about a large number of today's young adults who consider themselves Christian. The content of their faith is not grounded in historical Christian teachings but reflects what one researcher called "moralistic, therapeutic deism." Their understanding of God comes less from the Bible than from what is commonly called "American civil religion." From this perspective God is one who "fixes things, roots for your team, and rewards good behavior with a happy afterlife."* Unlike Jesus, American civil religion says nothing about sacrifice. It focuses on individual rights whereas the God of scripture addresses communal needs.
If this is, indeed, a prevalent American understanding of Christianity (twenty-four years as a pastor tells me that it is), it helps explain our current crisis in the United States over whether or not to (or how to) raise the debt ceiling. If God "fixes things" then maybe we don't have to worry about the decisions and actions we take that might harm others. If God "roots for our team" then our perspective must be right, our needs/desires come first. If God is this parochial - on "my" side, rooting for my agenda - then what is good for "me" must be acceptable to all. No wonder our government leaders have been meeting daily for weeks with no visible progress to report. Who needs to change, who needs to compromise, who needs to consider someone else's perspective if God is already on their side?
Last week as the news focused on the impasse in Congress concerning the debt limit, Sojourners magazine (email) sent this as their verse for the day: "What do you mean by crushing my people, by grinding the faces of the poor?" (Isaiah 3:15) This is a drastically different message from what we have been hearing on Capital Hill. In this scripture God addresses us - you and me, our representatives, the United States of America - with "what do you mean by crushing my people, by grinding the faces of the poor!"
How can a nation that claims to know the God of scripture cut services to the poor, to the elderly, to children and yet balk at raising taxes on the wealthy and on corporations that make billions of dollars a year on its own soil? If we love God, if have any genuine knowledge of God, we cannot support making life more difficult for those without while refusing to ask the wealthy to give more. Some will say that the wealthy create jobs (please present the evidence) but God sees our plans to pamper the rich and burden the poor and says, unequivocally, "how dare you!"
We in the church have failed to represent the God of scripture faithfully. God does, indeed, love us, but God also demands justice from us - fairness for all people, especially the weakest, the most despised. Jesus identifies himself with those who suffer, not with those who have it made (see Matthew 25: 31-46 and Luke 6:20-26); Jesus lived among outcasts and sinners, not in palaces with rulers and their cohorts. Christians cannot in good conscience allow the burden of this financial crisis to fall upon the working poor, the sick, and the aged without protesting in the name of Jesus.
This Sunday Matthew's gospel presents Jesus feeding five thousand hungry people. Tired by a long day of ministry, the disciples initially want to send the hungry crowd away to procure their own food. But Jesus says to his friends, "you give them something to eat."
That is God's word for us, to you and me, to all our representatives in Congress, to the wealthy and to all citizens of our nation: "You give them something to eat." Will we answer the call? Or will we stay silent and allow "the least of these" to pay again and again and again?
Pastor Kris Hill
*The article is entitled: "Hope and Ethnography" by Dori Grinenko Baker, 7-25-11; the quote is from Christian Smith of the National Study of Youth and Religion.
If this is, indeed, a prevalent American understanding of Christianity (twenty-four years as a pastor tells me that it is), it helps explain our current crisis in the United States over whether or not to (or how to) raise the debt ceiling. If God "fixes things" then maybe we don't have to worry about the decisions and actions we take that might harm others. If God "roots for our team" then our perspective must be right, our needs/desires come first. If God is this parochial - on "my" side, rooting for my agenda - then what is good for "me" must be acceptable to all. No wonder our government leaders have been meeting daily for weeks with no visible progress to report. Who needs to change, who needs to compromise, who needs to consider someone else's perspective if God is already on their side?
Last week as the news focused on the impasse in Congress concerning the debt limit, Sojourners magazine (email) sent this as their verse for the day: "What do you mean by crushing my people, by grinding the faces of the poor?" (Isaiah 3:15) This is a drastically different message from what we have been hearing on Capital Hill. In this scripture God addresses us - you and me, our representatives, the United States of America - with "what do you mean by crushing my people, by grinding the faces of the poor!"
How can a nation that claims to know the God of scripture cut services to the poor, to the elderly, to children and yet balk at raising taxes on the wealthy and on corporations that make billions of dollars a year on its own soil? If we love God, if have any genuine knowledge of God, we cannot support making life more difficult for those without while refusing to ask the wealthy to give more. Some will say that the wealthy create jobs (please present the evidence) but God sees our plans to pamper the rich and burden the poor and says, unequivocally, "how dare you!"
We in the church have failed to represent the God of scripture faithfully. God does, indeed, love us, but God also demands justice from us - fairness for all people, especially the weakest, the most despised. Jesus identifies himself with those who suffer, not with those who have it made (see Matthew 25: 31-46 and Luke 6:20-26); Jesus lived among outcasts and sinners, not in palaces with rulers and their cohorts. Christians cannot in good conscience allow the burden of this financial crisis to fall upon the working poor, the sick, and the aged without protesting in the name of Jesus.
This Sunday Matthew's gospel presents Jesus feeding five thousand hungry people. Tired by a long day of ministry, the disciples initially want to send the hungry crowd away to procure their own food. But Jesus says to his friends, "you give them something to eat."
That is God's word for us, to you and me, to all our representatives in Congress, to the wealthy and to all citizens of our nation: "You give them something to eat." Will we answer the call? Or will we stay silent and allow "the least of these" to pay again and again and again?
Pastor Kris Hill
*The article is entitled: "Hope and Ethnography" by Dori Grinenko Baker, 7-25-11; the quote is from Christian Smith of the National Study of Youth and Religion.
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