Into the Wilderness

With fall kicking off, we're back to three Sunday morning services (instead of the summer two) and I have to admit: I liked sleeping in, but I did miss preaching three times. Now that I'm not sticking to a strict manuscript, all the sermons come out a little differently--each one feeling organic and alive.

This morning's sermon text was Exodus 16:2-15 where God sends manna and quail to the complaining Israelites. Some themes were pretty obvious (Grumbling/faith, food/God's provision) so I started with some images/artistic depictions of manna. This one made me smile (from the kids' movie Cloudy with a chance of meatballs):

But I kept coming back to verse 10: 

"And as Aaron spoke to the whole congregation of the Israelites, they looked towards the wilderness, and the glory of the Lord appeared in the cloud." ~Exodus 16:10

I was captivated by the thought of God's people--gathered and listening to Aaron--suddenly looking into the vast expanse of wilderness when "behold! the glory of the Lord appeared!"

Why would God's glory be in the wilderness instead of with the people? What did it look like? If they had been in their own tents, would they have missed it? Why don't they react? What does this appearance of glory have to do with the manna and the quail? Why have I never noticed this 'glory' detail? Do we rush too quickly to the food stuff and skip it?

This "glory of the Lord in the clouds" theme brought me to a whole different set of images (c.f. Psalm 19:1 The heavens declare the glory of God and 2 Corinthians 3:18 We, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed). I discovered "Your Glory" by All Sons and Daughters and spent a breathtaking hour just marveling over images from telescopes, sunsets, and storms:

(we actually did this as part of our contemporary service--Your Glory paired with slide images).

Sermon prep continued with a poetry search which described 'wilderness' as everything from wild adventure to empty, expansive unknown. I didn't find any direct sermon content,but I think the act of reading poetry helped soften my stance and allowed me to think more fluidly through the text.

(if I find my notes I'll include a snapshot here)

Finally, I settled down with my brushes, cranked up an audio version of Exodus 16 and worked collage-style while the text repeated through several translations (thank you, Biblegateway.com).

• The 'glory' came out a lot like a fire; probably because I was thinking about the burning bush theophany (different Hebrew names are used though--I checked). 
• The wilderness section took a first person perspective. Rather than looking at the Israelites and their story, I wanted my congregation to look into the wilderness where God calls us...
•  the sky was a fairly simple blue, but I did deliberate on whether it should be morning or evening colors (16:7 depicts Moses/Aaron saying 'in the morning, you'll see God's glory' but Aaron speaks to the people before the quail appears 'at twilight' or 'in the evening' according to vv.12-13; Perhaps God's glory comes early? surprising us? It's also likely to be good 'ol source-criticism at work...)

 My favorite detail, however, was the addition of manna. I started to paint little gold dots at the front of the path (you know, to signify one day at a time) but they looked funny by themselves. So I put dots down the whole path. They scaled wrong. By now, my audio bible had played ahead to Exodus 16:31 (The house of Israel called it manna; it was like coriander seed) so I checked the cupboard for coriander--which we didn't have--and settled for quinoa. Quinoa looks like mustard seeds (yeah parable reference!) and has the added bonus of obscurity: "Quinoa? What's that?"

This depiction helped me internalize the importance of manna as a daily occurrence--something that took the Israelites step-by-step through the wilderness. Surely, grace and transformation doesn't happen all at once. Surely, God continues to bring us away from our slavery to sin and our complacent dependence on fleshpots in order that, step-by-step, we might bring our faith into the wilderness where God's glory already occurs...

Mustard Seeds

I recently came across two sermons: one by Anna Carter Florence and one by Nadia Boltz-Weber. Both riffed on Jesus' parable language wherein the kingdom of God is compared to something totally ordinary (e.g. "the Kingdom of God is like an oncology nurse who laughs with you at 2am."~Florence "The love of God in Christ is like a rental truck your friend insists on paying for so that your I’m-divorced-now-and-moving-into-another-house move is less difficult for you."~Boltz-Weber "The Kingdom of God is like a mustard seed." ~Jesus).

...and I've had my own encounters lately, too.

• The Kingdom of God is where a 5th grader steps into the pulpit and reads "the something river" because 'Euphrates' is hard to pronounce (Genesis 2).
• The Kingdom of God is standing next to a homeless woman singing hymns: loudly and beautifully, in a scratchy but authentic voice.
• The Kingdom of God is standing in a kitchen with two mothers who found something that made them laugh--even in the face of domestic violence.

The kingdom of God is near. And it's here. And it's coming.

Late reflections on the Great Banquet Sermon

I preached a sermon earlier this year where I kicked the written manuscript and did something entirely different (see it here)...but I never finished the reflection.

While painting I noticed that:

• Watercolors don't generally give way to hard stark lines, so the images (and ideas) play themselves out with gentleness. It's a slow, formational becoming--much like Christian discipleship. I suppose written manuscripts work this way too, but writing uses stark words like cut and delete. A painted manuscript allows things to brush and flow together--meaning mistakes aren't erased. They're gently reformed. Redeemed.
• In painting this, I started with the table--and the one at the table who welcomed others in (perhaps because my theology starts with God's hospitality and the church's sacramental call to share that grace with the world?). The empty stool is there to signify welcome, room, invitation.
• We're preparing for Lent, so I put a purple altar cloth on the table. I decided, too, to put a pool of purple/blue surrounding that table (which kind of became a mark of sitting at the table--sitting in the pool of grace which spills over into the world). So when I painted the person sitting in front of the table, I surrounded them with purple too (the image of sanctifying grace, if you will). ...also, I painted this scene out of order (maybe because I'm focused more on 'my church' than on 'the world'?). 
• When I added the person who rejected the invitation and turned away from the banquet (the person in the left corner) their robe was in brows and greys instead of the bright, whitish blue. However, I made the intentional decision to still carry purple gently into that corner because no one, no one, is without God's grace.
• The person in the far right corner--the one invited from the"highways and hedges" who might feel forgotten or far away--that person has the same pool of purple.
• The servant figure inviting the guests definitely has the bright purple connection too (seen more vibrantly, of course). 

After painting, I saw:

• Painting the parable allowed me to see scripture differently. Normally, Jesus' story of the great banquet is seen as sequential, scene-by-scene (the servant invites those who reject the invitation, and then others are invited in, and then even more are invited in). Painting the whole story held everyone in remembrance--together. Yes, there are those who sit at the table, but those who rejected the invitation don't cease to exist (prodigal son, anyone?).  Likewise, it's important to remember than even when we are at the table, there are still others who haven't made it there yet--and there's still room (lost sheep? eh? eh?). 
• There's also something beautiful about seeing the story at a glance and recognizing that we are invited into the scene, too. When you see it, you're invited into the story.
• It wasn't until I finished the painting and stepped back that I realized the characters with the brightest connection to grace--the host at the table, the one sitting and celebrating, and the one going forth to serve--they formed a Trinitarian image. The Father hosts, the Spirit dwells in holiness (indwelling in us), and the Son--the servant--goes forth to invite others in.

In preaching:

• My sermon was very simple: Where are you sitting in this story? Is it well with your soul there? Where should you be sitting?

• Instead of showing the manuscript to my congregation (we don't have screens in our traditional services) I decided to 'enact' or recreate it. I asked for five volunteers and they improvised a 'posture' for each character in the scene:(e.g. "the person in the church who stands as host, actively welcoming others...what might that look like?" My volunteer stood behind the altar, arms wide. "Someone who rejects God, intentionally or accidentally because they're too busy or something has upset them?" the volunteer turned AWAY from the altar, arms crossed...)
• We did this until we had the parable depicted in a freeze-frame scene--discussing the pros and cons of each posture (the person at the table might forget to welcome others in; the congregational host or outreaching servant might forget their own need to sit and celebrate with God; etc...)

Where are you sitting in this story? Is it well with your soul there? Where might God be calling you?

My only lament is that this was not a Communion Sunday.

A Vision from Revation 7

 "I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb... And they cried out in a loud voice: "Salvation belongs to our God!"

One of our young adultts called to ask if  she could bring a friend to Bible study
...and then showed up with four.

Four college freshman from four different countries.
Japan, Russia, Sweden,  and New Jersey.
(The Jersey girl later admitted that she was from Canada and just didn't like telling people, but the  original girl who brought friends is from Belgium, so we had plenty of languages present).

Even more exciting was that one of the new guests had never held a Bible before. Never prayed before. ... And  three of them weren't Christian!

We practiced hospitality and evangelism tonight in the mix of many different languages, and I hope--I pray--that this will begin something that the Spirit will bring to completion. Praise the Lord!!!

When Mission Saves the Church

This morning, the screens didn't work in our 9am service (you know, the screens that project ALL the lyrics and ALL the liturgy). We did not realize this until 15 minutes before the service began.To make things more complicated, our church office is relocating, so all the office computers and printers were boxed up. This meant we had neither the time nor the equipment to print song lyrics.

However--and this is where I quote Romans 8 and say that God works all things for good--our church has a Tuesday outreach ministry that also happens uses laptop/printer equipment. (we have an incredible team of volunteers that works to help homeless folks acquire birth certificates and IDs--which means printing forms and combing through DMV websites).

Also, because our church did an intricate prayer walk for good Friday, I had previously asked to borrow these laptops and just happened to know the computer password... 

Moreover, this Tuesday ministry has shifted to include a worship/testimony time wherein our music minister leads a few songs (the same songs, in this case, as the Sunday service)...which means the song-sheets already happened to be typed and sitting in someone's e-mail box...

In less that 15 minutes, we had over 200 songsheets printed (with appropriate creeds and misc. liturgy added). The congregation was invited to participate in worship because our church has been actively inviting homeless folks into our hearts. In short, the outreach ministry saved the day.

I realize that worship does not depend on song lyrics.
I'm sure we would have found a way to work it out without the tech support, but this is how the morning went. This is what the Lord provided--and it was so good!

To make things even better, the Romans 8 passage about things working together for good--the passage about nothing separating us from God's love, nothing standing against us--that was the sermon text! It was right and good that such a perfect word should be proclaimed in such an 'imperfect' setting.

Even (especially) when things don't go as planned; Even (especially) when we're challenged to our very depths--God works for good. Worship still happens. I couldn't have planned it better if I'd tried. That's the Spirit.

From the Founder....

Give me one hundred preachers who fear nothing but sin and desire nothing but God, and I care not a straw whether they be clergymen or laymen, such alone will shake the gates of hell and set up the kingdom of heaven upon earth.                                                                                               ~John Wesley

from his letter to Alexander Mather (August 6, 1777)

(and the above quote led me to this one--which I found profoundly convicting)

' It has been affirmed that none of our present preachers are so much alive as they were seven years ago. I fear many are not. But if so they are not fit for the work, which requires much life. Otherwise your labors will be tiresome to yourself, and of little use to the people: tiresome, because you will no longer serve Christ and the people, willingly and cheerfully; of little use, because you will no longer serve them diligently, doing it with your might. I have several reasons to fear it is so with many of you. But let your conscience be the judge,-- Who of you is exemplary, so much alive to God, so as to carry fire with Him wherever you go? Who of you is a pattern of self-denial in little things? Who of you drinks water? why not? Who of you has not four meals a day? Who of you fasts on Friday? why not? Who of you goes through his work willingly and diligently, and on no account disappointing the congregations? Who visits the people on Mr. Baxter's method? Is your heart in the work wholly, not giving way to indolence or unconcernedness, not yielding to the fear of men? '

(also Wesley)
Conversation at the conference at Leeds in 1755:
See Sutcliffe's manuscript History of Methodism, p. 468

Things I'm thankful for and amazed by at this particular moment:

• I'm thankful that, after an entire day of migraine-force headache, a friend offered to share some dark chocolate and delicious conversation.  My head is lifted (and so is my heart).
• I'm amazed that, after eight weeks of car problems, I was always able to be in the right place. I'm thankful for friends who offered rides--one friend even gave me her keys for the day and let me drive all the way to the other end of town! (and she is only one of several folks who offered to lend their vehicle). I never thought I would take such satisfaction in driving from one meeting to another meeting four blocks down! ...and the convenience of having my own car enabled me to stay late after a meeting. 
• I'm thankful for almost-retired women who stay up until 1:30am--sharing wine and faith. (God bless you Kathy. You are, indeed, tons of fun!)
• I'm thankful for brothers and sisters in Christ who are willing to share stories of loss, stories of growth, and beautiful moments of humility. 
• ...and I'm awed and edified by friends who give honest answers when you ask, "how can I pray for you?'  (Especially when those prayer requests help shape your own prayers. Seriously, every pastor (every person) should pray for these: 

• Focus and clarity of my mind upon the important details 

• A filter that helps to keep me from all the things we could do, but stays on the things we should do.  

• Budget health. May the money follow the vision and lay a good foundation for transformation in lives and communities.