Enough

Although I'm not preaching this weekend, the Gospel story of the little boy offering up his five loaves and two fishes to feed the crowd of 5,000 has been very much on my mind lately. Let's take a moment to talk about that.

When I was a child at church camp, our pastor read this story and asked us, "What did this actually look like? Imagine this with me: did the bread and fish magically pop up out of nowhere? Where did it come from?" Then he admitted that he kept some of his favorite snack mix in his shirt pocket, where most folks wouldn't know that he had it, but it was something to tide him over if he ended up working late. He imagined that most folks in Jesus' day might not head out to the edge of town, a long walk, without also packing a little extra food along, "just in case." What if that miracle was sharing? Perhaps folks didn't want to admit they also had extra food along, since they were surrounded by a crowd that also might be hungry, and no one person could possibly have enough to go around. However, perhaps as they saw the example of this little boy, as that basket came around, perhaps many people there were inspired to share some of their extra food as well--and what little extra each person had, was really more than enough to meet the needs.

Do you ever look at the world, especially in these past few weeks, and feel overwhelmed at the needs? Topping the news has been the tens of thousands of children fleeing the violence and crushing poverty of Central America. Meanwhile, I've been learning so much about our local homeless and hungry population, and the numbers there are daunting as well: long waiting lists at each of our existing shelters, thirty families with children in just one of the elementary schools who are living in their cars, sixty or more people living under the bridge. Long lines at the food pantry, and too little food to go around.
It would be quite easy for us, either as individuals or as one congregation, to look at it all and say, "we just can't make a difference, we don't have enough in the face of all this need."

Yet I think it is so important to notice what Jesus *didn't* ask, either of the boy or of the disciples. Jesus did not ask anyone to bake all the bread and catch all the fish by themselves. Jesus did not ask anyone to go buy all of the food from the nearby village, which would have cost far too much and been too cumbersome to transport by any one person, or even all twelve disciples--who realized this as well. Jesus didn't even ask the little boy to give up all his meals forever, so that others may be fed. Instead, Jesus simply took that little bit of a snack, and blessed it. Even had there been nothing left over, the boy would have been slightly inconvenienced for a few hours at worst.

Instead of becoming overwhelmed by the sheer amount of need around us, let's just start by asking ourselves: what are our five loaves and two fish? What is something that may actually seem like a little something to us, that could be blessed by Jesus and become something so much more? What can we share in such a way that it does not diminish us, but instead inspires others around us to share as well? On our own, we can only do so much. But working together, each of us sharing our little somethings, and combining those gifts with the whole body of Christ, we may even find ourselves in the midst of miracles.

Peace,
Le Anne

The Letter and the Spirit

Matthew 5:21-37; Deuteronomy 30:15-20; Psalm 119:1-8; 1 Corinthians 3:1-9

(look these up on biblegateway.com or bible.oremus.org.)

Last week, the Gospel raised some uncomfortable questions.  You might remember Jesus’ saying (Matt. 5:17-18) “Do not think that I have come to abolish the law and the prophets.  I have come not to abolish, but to fulfill.  Truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter nor one stroke of a letter will pass from the law until all is accomplished.”  When I read the Gospel for this morning, I really wanted to handle these passages together, because they do sound just a little bit ominous and perhaps even provoke a certain sense of fear—especially these verses about tearing out eyes and cutting off hands and going to hell and so forth.

So what on earth does Jesus mean?  Last week it all sounded so inspiring: Be salt.  Be light.  This week the teachings seem so hard.  So where I would like to start addressing this question is with...Love.

Love is the message of the Gospel and the measure of the law.

What I believe Jesus is trying to say in these texts is that there are plenty of opportunities to merely follow the letter of the law, without putting our heart into it.  Other times, we follow both the letter and the spirit of the law.  Probably more often than not, we even know when we are doing this.  We might call it ‘going through the motions.’  We might wonder what we can get away with, rather than wondering how we might, say, go the extra mile.  Or we might also head to the other extreme, which is becoming legalistic, too committed to the letter of the law to recognize the spirit.

Why do we do this?  Sometimes I think it’s because we’re overwhelmed by all those "opportunities," the long list of choices we have to make every day.  Or perhaps we’re angry or tired, or convinced we know better, or whatever. Sometimes I think it’s because we’re afraid of being hurt if we truly put our heart into something or make ourselves vulnerable to one another. 

And yet, what a relief often comes when we know we have truly put our heart into something, especially the example Jesus gives of going to be reconciled to a person you know you’ve hurt, before making your offering in worship.  This being Valentine’s weekend, it reminds me of an adage that’s kept harmony in our own home:  “You can be ‘right,’ or you can be married.”  And then there’s Jesus' example of adversaries going into court:  you could litigate to the very bitter end, spending all your energy and money in the process—or you could find a way to settle before it gets there…and be able to get on with the rest of your lives.  Anyone who’s been through painful litigation, even a divorce, can probably resonate with that.

And yet, to reconcile or to settle is not to act as if you’ve never caused harm, or been harmed, as the case may be, or as if whatever happened didn’t matter.  Jesus isn’t talking about cheap grace.  Rather, love holds each other accountable to our actions within the life of the community.

Accountability for our actions is also what makes forgiveness possible.  Forgiveness isn’t forgetting, because mere forgetting fails to acknowledge the existence of the law in the first place, or that there was ever a need to be forgiven when we have failed one another.  I would even say that forgetting is harder than forgiving, because somewhere on down the line, something will happen that will bring back that memory, and it will probably still hurt, maybe even with a hurt as fresh and raw as the day it happened.  We probably all have enough of our own examples already.  Forgiving is both acknowledging the truth of events, and loving either one another or even ourselves, enough to let go of that hurt’s grip on the rest of our lives.  In doing so, we choose to truly live.

Now, that’s not easy.  We probably couldn’t fathom doing such a thing as forgiving others, or asking someone else to forgive us, without the help of God, who first forgave us and freed us to forgive one another and to be forgiven.  And even more practically speaking, we need our community around us, to hold us accountable, and to help us through the process of forgiveness, when we have failed to fulfill our obligations to one another.

++

The last few weeks here have been a bit of a blur and today, this final day, and final worship service, and final hour of service to you as your pastor, has come around really rather quickly.  I realized as this day was drawing near that there was no possible way to make all the visits, or phone calls, or even to write all the notes that I would have liked to do.  It would not be possible to follow through on every request, or even every hope for projects I wanted to complete before going.  And I was deeply distressed about not being able to ‘do it all.’

Then, in preparation for today, I read through the liturgy that we’ll be using at the end of the worship service, which brings a prayerful end to our ministry together, and I found it very comforting. 

I realized then what a gift it is in this liturgy that we will use today, to simply ask forgiveness for all the things I could not do.  It is a gift to be forgiven, even in the midst of celebrating and remembering all the things that have been done, the visits and calls made and projects completed and hopes realized and all the good things of these past two years as well. 

And, I realized, that I would have to rely on the Christian community that is present in this place, to care for everyone and help those in need, after today when I am no longer able to do so.  I also realized that I would have to put my trust in God, and in whoever comes to take my place, that the work of ministry and pastoral care will continue.

Paul put it so well when he wrote that one of us might plant and another water, but it is God who gives the growth.  We are each called to our times and means of serving, and we each have gifts through which we may share God’s love, which is the common purpose for everything we do.  I realize today that we may, some of us, not see each other again in this lifetime, but will only be reunited in heaven.  We have been God’s servants, working together; you are God’s servants and God’s building.  I give thanks for you, and for the time we have shared together.  I love you, and I leave you with peace.

Amen.

Hymns:  Thy Word Is A Lamp Unto My Feet, Seek Ye First, We Are One In The Spirit, Make Me A Channel Of Your Peace

Prayers This Week For:

+People of Syria

+All who struggle with the winter weather

+All who are in entrenched conflicts or struggling with relationships

Can You Dream BIG Enough?

Luke 20:27-38; Haggai 2:6-9; Psalm 145:1-4, 17-19; 2 Thessalonians 2:1-5, 13-17

I bet when you think about Consecration Sunday, you don’t immediately go to the Gospel story for today.  It’s a little weird, this story about seven brothers who all married the same wife and all died childless, and whose wife is she going to be when they all get to heaven?

Actually, it sounds like a great plot for a soap opera.  You could call it The Days of Our (After)lives, All My Husbands (But None of My Children), My Seven Sons...my point is, it sounds a little scandalous; and the Sadducees point is, wouldn’t it just be more convenient if there was no resurrection, because isn’t that going to be one messed up family fight?  It’d be way better if all the characters just stay dead.

And Jesus is listening to all this, probably thinking the real soap opera drama is what’s going on in front of him.  

The big deal about this marriage thing, which is called Levirate marriage, is that it’s all about money.  Marriage throughout Biblical times became about property acquisition, and a wife was regarded as property.  If the husband died, a brother was required to marry the wife to produce heirs to carry on his brother’s family fortune, and to provide for his brother’s widow, otherwise the widow was out of luck. This meant the brother was left with less of his own inheritance and fortune.  Now the widow is obviously out of luck in this case, (and I think she kind of was all along), but the point is, Jesus isn't worried about money and property and inheritance in heaven.  Jesus is concerned about relationships that are bigger than property lines and inheritance.  Jesus is concerned that people are just valued for who they are, not what wealth and security they can provide.

Jesus is basically saying here, guys, you are not dreaming big enough.  Heaven can’t be bothered with these earthly hangups.  We are all children of God, alive in the Resurrection, and not mere property.  We're meant for something bigger.

++

You remember the song Imagine, by John Lennon?  I was listening to it again this week and have been thinking it over.  It’s really not a godless song, as some have criticized it, but actually a very Godly one.  I especially appreciate the line which says, “You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one….”

What if we could dream big enough, and weren’t limited by our own pre-set mindsets?  

When I dream bigger, I realize everything I have belongs to God.  I’m more willing to share, more willing to forgive.  More willing to think outside the box.

In our own lives, we are more than our property, right?  God doesn’t call on us to simply pay the bills and that’s that.  After all, whose heart can be stirred by the monthly bills?  Is your joy and purpose for being when your water and sewage bill arrives at home? ( If so, we need to talk.)  No, but the joy comes in watering flowers and seeing them grow, or seeing the kids splash around in the backyard on a hot summer day, tubtime when they’re little, or even all those showers when they’re teenagers.  We can be proud of a fine-looking house, but chances are good we sacrificed for that house so that it could be a home where our loved ones gather and are fed and nurtured and where everyone inside knows they are loved and safe.

Church is more than an hour on Sunday mornings, we know.  But, “Church” used to be held in people’s homes--the places where they ate, went to the bathroom, washed the dishes, slept, read, sometimes fought, and where they raised their children; often where they gathered as friends and maybe even where they earned their livelihood.  The connection between worship and daily life were unmistakable.

On this Consecration Sunday, are we dreaming big enough?  Sure, the lights and mortgage need to be paid.  But why?  Is that where it all ends?  No, of course not.  Everything we do here we need to do for mission, to make God’s presence and God’s kingdom, a kingdom of good news, known here on this earth and all around us.  Sure, pay the light bill--in fact, run it up because we’ve got people filling this place, filling the rooms, using up the toilet paper and paper towels and such.  Even clean that greasetrap some more--and that is the number one least glamorous thing in our yearly budget--because we’ve had to wash so many dishes, because so many people were welcomed in and fed here, not just feeding their bodies but feeding their minds and spirits here.

So yep, let’s pay that snowplow bill--so people can find a home of welcome here all year round.  Let’s pay to maintain our lawnmower, so our lawn can be filled with people enjoying God’s good creation, whether playing sports or listening to a lawn concert or planting flowers or watching the wildlife go by. Let’s even maybe pay off the mortgage on this house of worship early, so we can start spending that money building houses for people who need them.

Let’s ask ourselves, what is this lightbulb, that chair, this table, that greasetrap doing to advance God’s reign of love and welcome in this corner of the world?  Don’t let your dreams stop at the property line.  Dream bigger, break down the barriers, and together let us be living, fully alive, and joyful children of God. Amen!

Prayers this week:

People of the Philippines and others suffering from the storm

For all struggling with addiction, and those who love and care for them

No Need To Be Ashamed

Jeremiah 29:1,4-7; Psalm 66:1-12; 2 Timothy 2:8-15; Luke 17:11-19

(Look these up at bible.oremus.org or biblegateway.com)

Today we hear in the prophetic book of Jeremiah words of counsel to the people who have found themselves in exile, far from home, not to give up but to find a way to ‘bloom where they have been planted.’  Perhaps that’s an odd bit of advice, or perhaps it’s very timely, to people who are feeling so very uprooted.

We also hear in the continuing conversation in Paul’s letter to young Timothy some sage advice not to get entangled in wars of words with people who might try to prove him less experienced or too young for this kind of work, but to not be ashamed and to speak the truth.  And in the Gospel, we hear of how Jesus heals ten lepers and sends them to the Jewish priests to be admitted back into the community, but the Samaritan who realizes his healing returns to Jesus alone.

And today in the life of the church we observe Domestic Violence Awareness Sunday.  This is something relatively new in the life of the church and in the self-understanding of Presbyterian Missions.  However, it’s an integral part of what our mission agency and several of our ministries do.

The Church (meaning the church universal) has really failed on this point for as long as anyone can remember, and only recently started teaching that no one should have to experience violence in their homes, even if they are married to the person that abuses them.  So the first thing that I want to say today, and on every other occasion where I have the opportunity to do so, is that abuse is not, and never has been, part of God’s plan for our lives.  Abuse is sin, and the shame for it rests solely on the abuser, and not the abused.

I was also reminded this week that as the Church, (meaning the church universal), we’re not terribly good at defining what abuse is or who might experience abuse.  Perhaps that doesn’t surprise anyone here after a decade or more of abuse scandals.  But let me tell you how I was reminded, because I was really impressed.  I met several students at the high school who are involved in a group called Imagine, which teaches awareness, prevention and intervention for domestic abuse.  They were active in discussion about allowing men into the group.  This is because we often think of abuse being caused by men against women.  However, in recent years we’ve been increasingly aware that men can also suffer from domestic violence, whether their partner is male or female.  And women can suffer whether their partner is male or female.  Truly no one is immune from a situation such as this.  I thought to myself that even though I was in a similar group in high school and college, I was not nearly so wise.

From PADV Packet: (www.presbyterianmission.org/padvn)

Violence in any form is a destructive force that damages and destroys life and well being.  When violence is woven into the fabric of family relationships it distorts and destroys not only the violence between the victim and the perpetrator but the well-being and sense of self of each and every family member.  So often, families enmeshed in violence have lost a sense of hope and the prospect of healing and restoration seems to be a remote possibility.

I think that you can be at home, and still feel like you are in exile, that you have no home.  I think you can also have a church home that doesn’t really feel like home, a place where you find yourself all alone in a room full of people, because of whatever it is you are wrestling with or don’t want other people to know.

So then, you have a choice, albeit a difficult one:  do you stay where you feel you have no true home, and try to make the best of it, or do you pack up and go?  Sometimes, just such questions really are the biggest ones of our lives.  

Well then, when is it okay to bloom where you are planted?  When is it okay to go?  Actually, the same Bible and the same God tells the same group of people different things at different times in their journey.  And so it is with us.

A lot of people facing abuse don’t leave because they fear what may happen to themselves, or their children, or their pets.  And that is a legitimate fear demonstrated far too often--the deadliest time in an abusive relationship is often when the abused person tries to leave.  However, others get out because they realize what’s going to happen to them or the children or the pets if they don’t go.

At this particular point in the Israelite’s lives, so recently exiled, so weakened from the journey, and so traumatized, God tells the people to bloom in exile.  Find a happy home.  Raise a healthy family.  Thrive, don’t just survive, and don’t give up.  A day will come when there will be healing and joy.  Even if you’ve had to leave everything behind just to save your own life, there is hope.

Now God is not being Pollyanna about this, God’s just being realistic.  God knows they’ll never physically make it back home, or anywhere good, in the physical state that they’re in.  They have to get their strength back.  They have to build up a few resources, build up their numbers, and multiply--surround themselves with a supportive community that will be a force to reckon with when it is time to get up and go.  They’re going to have to be wise about this, and prepare for the journey.  They’ll get home someday, we’ll cover that story in a few weeks, but for now, it’s time to figure out a plan for the meantime, even though they are faced with difficult truths.

Alright.

Now for something a bit different...let’s talk a bit about leprosy.  We’ve talked about it before: that nasty flesh-eating disease that makes you look like a zombie; no easy cure back then like there is today; nobody wants to be around you because you stink and look awful and they don’t want to catch it from you, so you’re in exile, (see a theme here?) living in a leper colony until you die.  You can’t even go to worship, because the priests don’t want you bringing your mess in there.  But then Jesus comes along and heals these ten lepers he meets.  Why does the Samaritan come back?  The lepers whose spiritual home is in Jerusalem are begging to be freed from their stigma.  When they go to the priests, the priests will admit them back into the community, and that’s what they desire most.  The Samaritan isn’t going to be accepted into that community anyway; that’s not his people.  Because there is no fear of stigma in him, because he is not ashamed, he can recognize the truth and come back praising Jesus.

There is no need to be ashamed when speaking the truth, especially when the truth heals you and sets you free.  This is the philosophy behind the new shelter being built here in Dane County, that the women who live there have no need to be ashamed, and that by being in the light, they are safer, than trying to hide in stigma and fear.

I want to share with you something else from our Presbyterian Mission website on this issue, because it’s so well put: When domestic violence occurs, hope and restoration are never easily attained.  Sometimes they are decades in the making, especially if the victim or survivor of domestic violence and her family have no community of support to assist them on their long journey.  This is precisely where the Church should be.  As Christ’s agents of hope, we are charged to be “a light, shining in the darkness,” to those whose hope has been thwarted and do not know where to turn.

The Psalm today says, “we went through fire and water; yet you have brought us out to a spacious place.”  Ours is a God who turns the sea into dry land, who has kept his people among the living, and has not let our feet slip.  Ours is a God who will not let us be lost, no matter in what situation or where we find ourselves.  And our God is a God of justice, a God of compassion, a God of healing.  We are not alone.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.

Prayers this Week

For all who are caregivers for loved ones struggling with extended illness, that they may find respite, courage, and strength for the journey.

For those struggling with illnesses that have not yet been fully diagnosed, that they may find the answers and the treatments they need.

For all who are suffering from domestic violence, that they may find safety, hope, and healing.

For ministries of healing and hope in the PCUSA and around the world.

For families of children with special needs, that they may find the support, welcome, and access they need for full inclusion.

For families who are homeless, whether living with a relative or friend, living in their car, or living in a shelter or on the street, that they may find a true home.

Seasons of Peace: Presentation Outline

Friends, if you were unable to participate in Sunday's presentation on the PCUSA Season of Peace, here is my outline for the session.  You can click on the links below and navigate around to many of the topics we discussed:

Seasons of Peacemaking

September 22, 2013

1.  What is the Season of Peace?

2nd Sunday in September through World Communion Sunday

Includes options for a 9/11 Remembrance and International Day of Peace

2.  Peacemaking brought Pastor Le Anne to the PCUSA

Presbyterian Peace Fellowship

Fellowship of Reconciliation

Council for the Parliament of the World’s Religions

UN Program; Peacemaking Program

3.  Resources:

Special offerings video on Peacemaking Offering (1 minute)

Compassion, Peace, and Justice Program video (1 minute)

Peace Fair, Bible Study, and Peacemaking Devotions

Travel Opportunities and Meeting International Peacemakers

http://www.presbyterianmission.org/ministries/peacemaking/

http://www.pcusa.org/seasonofpeace

http://www.pcusa.org/blogs/swords-plowshares/

http://www.presbyterianmission.org/ministries/peacemaking/international-peacemaking/

http://www.missioncrossroads.org/  

(Peacemaking, Disaster Relief, and Mission work closely and often overlap in our PCUSA ministries)