Ashes and Myrrh and breath that scatters sin

I'm home from today's stations of the cross--smelling like campfire, myrrh, and frankincense--and filled deeply with gratitude. 

At our stations of the cross tonight, we were supposed to have a fire in the courtyard (because that's where Peter denies Jesus in Luke). But it rained/drizzled/threatened to rain again all morning, so we pushed the fire pit under an overhang and invited people to sit by a pile of logs. (Dark weather is perfect for Good Friday, btw, so the tradeoff wasn't so bad). 

However, when I returned from a break, I was delighted to find that the other pastor (Allen) and our youth minister (Austin) had those logs roaring away! 

Moreover, our last station included packets of 'grave spices' for people to take home (myrrh, frankincense, misc. herbs etc). Well Austin had the great idea of emptying one into the fire, which was perfect since those first two ingredients were solid chunks of incense anyways. The whole place smelled holy. It was beautiful!

...and we finished the night by burning the same slips of paper that people brought to the altar on Ash Wednesday. One of them simply said "sin"; I know because it flew open when I tossed it into the pit and I watched it slowly curl into itself--from the edges in--and shift from white to umber to embers. Soon, the sin in the center was consumed and the whole thing was a powdered remnant that scattered with the toss of a breathe.

"And Jesus called out with a loud voice, 'Father into thy hands I commit my spirit.' And having said this, he breathed his last." --Luke 23:46

Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. 

And now we wait for resurrection.  

Wind, weddings, and wine bars

I spent the evening (waif dessert at a wine bar) with a couple who drove into the aftermath of hurricane Katrina. They shared story after miraculous story of generosity and grace (a serendipitous can of orange juice for someone craving it. Diapers and baby food that arrived just as the supply went out. Women who had nothing, but just wanted to be hugged...) but my favorite story involved their reason for driving into the devastation. 

Their son was getting married. 

The wedding had been scheduled long before the hurricane arrived, and while many would have canceled because of crumbling buildings or weeks without power, this couple chose to say their vows. The extra festivities (food and dancing, live band and white dress) would happen later at a "second celebration" but the core of what a wedding should be (prayers and vows and worship) --the deep heart of a wedding's purpose can't be blown away by any wind. 

So the bride spray-painted "worship Sunday at 10am" onto a torn sheet, stretched it across the church front and invited anyone who wanted to join them. Most of the church members had driven north to escape the storm, so the wedding took place among strangers (survivors) who genuinely gathered to worship God --even after storms devastated their lives.

One woman was in tears: "my whole life--everything I have--is destroyed. I don't even have a single shard of a teacup to remember how things were... Yet here you are. Making a new start. A new life amid wreckage. Thank you for letting me witness this! It gives me hope."

Someone brought flowers (to this day, the couple has no idea where they came from or who brought the bouquet and altar flowers). A complete stranger from down the street managed to cook food for the ten or so in the party's family. And the bride spent her honeymoon days sleeping on the hospital floor because she was a nurse and patients were filling all the beds. 

Faithful people are amazing. 

The boats were full

Our Tuesday worship service has settled into a communal bible study --sort of a group lectio divina. And, since I've been reading Luke, our passage this week was Jesus' calling of the disciples on lake Gennesaret (Luke 5:1-11). I've read the passage a million times, but someone else noticed this week that the disciples left everything behind to follow Jesus. Not just the boats and nets and gear, but EVERYTHING--including the miraculously gigantic haul of fish that almost sunk the boats. It may be because artwork usually depicts the boats as empty, but I never realized that the boats left behind we're full. 

 After an exhausting and disappointing night of catching nothing (meaning no fish to eat or sell for their families) they obey Jesus and experience an incredibly successful endeavor. Fishing was their livelihood--Their business--so those boats and nets were full of profits. Success was right in front of them; 

they were going to make bank! 

And they left everything to follow Jesus. 

Now, granted, leaving a boat full of old fish might not seem great for passerbys or downwind neighbors, but what about the crowd who gathered to hear Jesus--what if they were still around? And who listened to Jesus better than the poor? (It was an 8-year-old boy named Elijah, actually, who suggested the fish could go to the poor). What if the would-be disciples landed ashore with boats full of fish and immediately encountered a hungry crowd of Jesus' poor. 

If so, then THAT is the context where Jesus said they would be fishing for people. That's the context where disciples left their profits behind to feed the poor and follow Christ. 

Segregated Heaven

A woman from my church came into the office today looking for a book. She was preparing a program for her women's circle and wanted something about a woman who faced adversity and struggled through--so I gave her Delores William's Sisters in the Wilderness. I warned her that it was a theology book and a little on the heavy side, but especially recommended the first chapter about Hagar the slave-woman from Africa. If ever a woman faced adversity, surely it was Hagar as interpreted through the lens of a black woman.

The woman, in turn, shared with me a story about a black woman who worked for her family--raising the kids and helping with laundry.

"I loved to watch her iron," she said, "because she was always singing. Worship songs, usually. 

One day, I asked her--'May? Is there a white Jesus and a black Jesus?'' 

And she said, 'no child. There's only one God--it's the same for all of us. Why?'

and I said, "because when I get to heaven, I want to be where you are."

...the woman smiled at the memory, laughed about the way that children think--and then said it wasn't all that strange of a question. In the midst of a segregated world, why wouldn't a child think about a segregated heaven? Scripture, of course, insists that--even with our differences--there's only ONE Christ and only one heaven for all of us (Ephesians 4:1-6; Galatians 3:27-28) but the injustices and systemic sins of our world can warp our view of God.

But the flip side is true too: If our heaven isn't segregated, why on earth should our world be?
I doubt that Christ has a giant wall up in heaven to separate one kind of culture from another.
...so why on earth would we build one here? Why would that even start to be a viable political question for people who are praying to make this world more like the Kingdom of God?

Water into Wine

It's been a while since I've posted anything (even though I have plenty to post--there is a ton of material from my trip to South Africa, notes/reflections from prayer stations we used for All Saints Sunday--not to mention pictures from Advent when we followed traced the story of God's presence through the entire Jesse tree)...

But this past Sunday, I preached on John 2:1-12 Jesus' miracle at the wedding in Cana (otherwise known as Jesus turning water into wine).

At first I was drawn to the servants--those who listened to Mary's words ("Do all that he tells you" she said, pointing to Christ) and their willing obedience to Jesus.
They must have drawn a LOT of water. (six stone jars holding 20-30 gallons of water, filled to the brim; that's 120 gallons on the low side. ....calculate that a gallon of water weighs about 8.5 pounds and those servants hauled over a half-ton of weight in water--On TOP of their normal duties as servants). What incredible faithfulness!! How powerful that Jesus' first miracle relied on the participation and obedience of servants.

Then I kept thinking about the miracle itself: the transformation from one substance to another. 

This particular lectionary cycle put that text in the first Sunday of ordinary time--immediately following the Baptism of Our Lord Sunday. Which meant that I was contemplating John 2 while Allen was preaching about baptism and the power of the Holy Spirit that brings transformation into our lives and the lives around us. That's the miracle of sanctification--our pursuit of holiness and Christian perfection happens by God's miracle and our participation (obedience) of that grace.

That's when I noticed the shift from water into wine foreshadows the story of Christ's ministry-- From the waters of Jordan to the wine of the last supper. from baptism to the blood of crucifixion.

So, too, does our Christian faith follow this shift from baptism to a gradual transformation into being Christ-like. Our communion prayer asks that we, like the blood of Christ, would be poured out in obedience and service to the world. And, indeed, the ACT of servant obedience and active participation in God's grace is the very means through which we are transformed and changed.

Thus my final sermon image--a call to holiness, obedience, participation and action (so that as we do everything Christ tells us to do, we would be made into the image of Christ):

Felt Board Prank (part 2: the mullet)

So, while cleaning from my birthday prank, I realized our felt board has a disturbing number of disembodied human parts:

And, more terrifying, also a mullet. A seperate, removable (addable) hair piece:

So of course I played with it:

And then we learn that God forbade the mullet:

And the people were afraid

(Animals not so much)

The end. 

Birthday Prank 2014: Felt Board Overload

One of the things I love most about my church is the team of pranksters that surprise each other (especially around birthdays). This post is super late in the making, but last year I walked in to find my office COVERED with felt board Bible characters. 

And they weren't just randomly strewn! There was some incredible attention to detail:

Things were organized by likeness:

And some of them even told new stories. Like the harem that gathered around my brother:

And ALL the people who found my theogy books so boring that they fell asleep:

And the satan worshippers who threatened the goodness of the church:

And the invredible family with superpowers (they obviously rule):

I was also quite partial of the rapture scene:

And the touch-up job they did on my photos:

Overall, it was incredible impressive! And completely touching. The latte on my desk came from a congregant. The flowers came from the staff. And that might be my new favorite shirt.

 All in all, the people I work with and do ministry with are hilarious. And I love them. And I'm blessed to be here. (And I've learned that bible stories can be creepy when you dismantle them).