To be Transfigured - and Transformed

Somehow, it seems like if a giant blizzard is going to come through NE South Dakota, it has to happen on a Saturday night. Which means I cancelled church so everyone would stay safe, warm, and off the roads (the state issued a no-travel advisory, and the interstates are closed).

I sure do wish I had known church were going to be cancelled before I put the work into preparing services and printing bulletins! ha. Since that isn't the case, and I have been terrible about blogging lately, I thought I'd take care of both and share the text of my sermon here....


I spent a couple of days away this week at a meeting in Memphis, TN. The meeting was the first of the new committee that I was asked to be a part of for the United Methodist Global AIDS Fund.

When I was asked to be a part of this committee, I was excited because for one thing, I didn't even know The United Methodist Church had a Global AIDS Fund. and to be honest, I feel like I don't know as much as I should about the HIV/AIDS pandemic that affects the whole world, let alone what is happening here in the US, or even more specifically here in South Dakota.

So I went to this meeting this week with an open mind and some excitement to learn more. More about the virus, more about what we can do about it, more about the ways it impacts all of us, even those who don't realize it.

I was only able to be there for about half of the meeting, and when I left I was significantly more disappointed than I expected. Disappointed because this brief meeting was even more life-giving and than I ever anticipated. I was overwhelmed with information within the first hour, and it continued to pour out for hours to come. We met for a couple of hours on Wednesday night and then 12 hours on Thursday, and by the time we wrapped up for the day on Thursday, I'm pretty sure its safe to say all of our heads were spinning, but also full of anticipation and hope for what may continue to come from their conversations that continued without me on Friday and Saturday.

And while I expect I will continue to digest what I have learned, heard, and seen for days - maybe even weeks - to come, there is one theme in particular that kept coming up throughout the meeting that continues to stand out above all others even now, leaving me to mull it over for the past few days.
    These one them circled around a simple but loaded word: Stigma.

In countless aspects of our lives, we stigmatize the people and places around us. The more distant we believe a person, place or issue is from us, the more likely it seems we are to believe the stereotypes we hear. Right?

And while on occasion stereotypes can be stated as positives, they are never actually good things. They always leave someone out, and they always lump people into categories. Stereotypes lead us to assume that because someone is a part of one group, they must have - or lack - certain qualities. In this way, stereotypes leave out basic logic.

During my meeting with the Global AIDS Fund in Memphis this week, this kind of negative and broad stereotypes of HIV/AIDS were discussed and evident as a part of every conversation we shared.

Because with HIV/AIDS, the stigmas are huge. Somehow, despite information we have access to that says otherwise, much of the global community continues to believe things like being HIV+ is a death sentence. We believe that everyone who is HIV+ must be sexually promiscuous. We believe HIV is something that mostly on affects "other" people. People far from here. People in distant places like Africa.

Of course none of these things are true. None of them.

And while I would love to share more with you about all I am learning - and will continue to learn - about HIV and stigmas like these, most of us will never take time to learn more or figure out what is true, because talking about these stigmas in particular makes us extremely uncomfortable. Talking about HIV/AIDS will require us to breach tough and uncomfortable topics that are a part of the human experience: topics like sex and human sexuality.

Topics we would much prefer to only talk about privately and never publicly. Topics like health care, education, and poverty.

All things we'd rather not talk about because, frankly, we are afraid.

Afraid of the unknown. Afraid of showing our own biases, expectations, hopes and visions that others may disagree with. Afraid of sharing visions we have of our lives that don't quite share the reality of circumstances around us.

We - and I say we to include myself here - are more often than not, afraid.

But our fear isn't our sin. Our sin is that because of our fear, we stop listening.

In our Gospel reading this morning (Luke 928-43a), we are told the story of Jesus' transfiguration. Literally, in this passage, 3 of Jesus' disciples- Peter and James and John- were witness to Jesus taking on a physical transformation and likeness of God while in prayer on the mountain.

As Jesus prayed, we are told, His clothes turned a dazzling white and his whole appearance, including His face, changed. The disciples gave witness to Moses and Elijah appearing and talking to Jesus about a departure.

A departure that the disciples did not yet understand, but that Jesus was already preparing for. You see, this moment of Jesus' transfiguration on the mountaintop is often considered the turning point between Jesus' public ministry, and Jesus' passion - Jesus' journey to the cross.

Not knowing what words had been shared between these three Godly men on the mountaintop, and not yet understanding what was yet to come, the disciples watched in awe, speaking only after the fact to give thanks to Jesus, acknowledging that it was good for them to have been there to give witness.

But listen to what happens next. In Luke 9:34-35 it reads,
    34While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. 35Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!"

So often in Scripture when we are told someone was filled with fear, we hear the words, "fear not."

But this time, it boldly sticks out to me that this is not the case. Sometimes, we can't dictate how we feel or will react simply because we don't want to be afraid. Instead, overcoming our fear and living fully in spite of that fear, requires action.

Action like that required by the voice of God, speaking to the disciples and to us as he dictates, "listen!"

Listen.

A lost art, isn't it?

How often do we truly take time to listen. To take a break from sharing what we believe or think we know. To stop trying to teach. To stop trying to fill the silence...
    And to simply, listen.

To listen to those seeking to lead us, not because of our fear, but in spite of it.

To listen to and acknowledge as equals those who share some of our fear, no matter the reason for their fear.

   We all have things we are afraid of, and I can't help but to believe that in this passage, as Jesus prepared for the journey that would lead Him to the cross, Jesus might have even shared in some of that fear.
    But I imagine His fear being different. Not fear of what was about to happen to Him, and not a fear of the unknown as we so often have. For these things, Jesus knew were in God's hands. Instead, I can't help but to wonder if Jesus' fear weren't more about those around Him. Fear that His disciples, those he had come to rely on as His closest friends and support throughout His ministry, would allow their fear to stop them.

When things became tough or uncomfortable or or increasingly unfamiliar, the disciples became afraid. Just like we become afraid.

And it is when that fear surrounds us like a cloud of fog we are told the disciples literally entered into, our visibility, like theirs, decreases and we lose focus on what is important. Eventually we allow it to stop us all together, or worse, we turn and go back, for we know where to find the edge of the dense fog we've entered, and we decide it may well be better to live with clarity of the past than to carry on with that we can't see or understand in the future.

sound familiar?

There is safety in the familiar. The known. The trusted. A shared, concrete vision of what lies ahead.

But when the disciples lost that vision and were terrified in the midst of that dense cloud, they were not promised safety. They were not told not to be afraid.
    They were told to listen to the voice of Jesus.

To carry on. To move ahead into the unknown. To make space in their foggy, unclear surroundings for ideas, dreams, and visions to be more fully realized in the unknown future.

To do so, is to make room not for our own vision, but for the vision that accompanies the unforeseen miracles of Jesus working through our lives and the lives of those around us.

Miracles like the healing the disciples witnessed at the end of this passage. A miracle that allowed them the privilege of unexpectedly being "astounded by the greatness of God." (Luke 9:43)

And all of that because the disciples decided to follow the voice of God instead of their own. To not just face but embrace their fear and the unimaginable circumstances that accompanied it.

All of us hold this fear of the unknown within us, whether it is the people, places, or ideas that surround us. Most of us hold some bit of fear of the path our lives are taking when something comes up that is unknown or unfamiliar or unexpected.

The problem with that fear is not that we have it. Rather, it is the greater question of what we do with it.

Of how we are being called to move with - and beyond - our fear in such a way that we might more fully embrace God's call to listen.

On this, Transfiguration Sunday, may we seek to listen in such a way that we, like the Disciples, would hear the voice of God. That we would be so in touch with God, that we too might be changed, from the inside out.

May it be so.

Surprises

The one thing that I stressed about or perhaps even least anticipated during my time here in Plumstead was the preaching. For the first time in my life, I was asked to preach at the church/in the circuit regularly, slowly moving from once the first month into every two weeks and finally every week: including Christmas Day and Watch Night services.

Where I come from the US (or more specifically the UMC), you don’t preach often unless you’ve been ordained. So while I did learn a bit about preaching while in Seminary, I haven’t had a lot of opportunity to practice.

Well, here I am, and here is the good news: I survived. Better news? I LOVED it! (shhh!)

As it turns out, this big, scary, exciting opportunity to preach and lead worship regularly, is something that I love to do! I cannot begin to describe to you how great it is to feel affirmed in this huge piece of my calling into ministry.

The truth is, I was intimidated and nervous and perhaps even anxious about preaching (enough that I actively avoided opportunities to preach in the past). Plumstead changed this only because there was a need that I could help to meet: and how does one say no to that? Yet what started as a need led me to discover that the more I was preaching, the less it felt like a “task” - and the more it has begun to feel like a “calling.”

Just as I’ve begun to fall into routine and realize the joy I receive from this type of ministry, I came to another realization:

This morning was my last Sunday preaching at Plumstead Methodist Church. and I don’t know how long it might be until I’m in a post that allows me to preach regularly again.

There are many, many ways my time in Plumstead has been a blessing to me. Today, I am grateful for this opportunity - and this revelation.

So though I was not ready to say goodbye to you today when you surprised me with a parting gift, to you, Plumstead Methodist Church, I say: Thank you.

Jesus Is Our Backhoe

"Jesus is our Backhoe"
If I were to title it, that would have been the title of my sermon this morning.

Based on my experience of life in America where everyone knows what a backhoe is, it made for a great (albeit comical when it stands alone!) visionary tool. So yea! I quite like it when things work out like this.

The problem with this is: Context. I didn’t realize that no one here knew what a backhoe was! After the first service, someone asked me and told me they thought it was a bird. oops! (Fortunately the way the example was staged, it seemed to work fine even without knowing exactly what a “backhoe” is).

So, lesson learned. I easily adapted and made due for the second service, eliminating surprise when the example “clicked” better for them.

So today comes the age-old lesson of not taking advantage of what people know… and today it comes with a bit of reminder that I’m “not in Kansas anymore.”

A year later, and I’m still learning. and to be honest, that’s my cause to smile today. I’m grateful for this small reminder of ways that we are living different but also such very similar lives. And I’m grateful for the ways it has reminded me of ways I’ve been blessed by this community that I now claim as my own. So much so, that sometimes I forget I once wasn’t, and perhaps they won’t understand the same references my church at “home” would.

If I’m going to forget anything, I’m grateful for this kind of “forgetfulness.” and I’m grateful for being able to share in worship with this great community.

All Saints Day

Since Monday, I have been thinking about a tradition or “holiday” that I love in the church. A tradition that will be celebrated in churches throughout the world, including United Methodist Churches, this coming Sunday. The first Sunday of November is known as “All Saints Day.”

All Saints Day is a day when we as a church recognize the saints who have come before us. Often, we read the names of loved ones who have passed away in the previous year. I have taken part in All Saints Day practices from lighting candles to writing names on a strip of cloth that was later weaved together and used as an alter cloth.

It is a day to lift up and remember those who have come before us and led the way for us as Christians, as a body of believers, who claim to be, in the words of the Apostles Creed, a part of the “communion of saints.” “Communion of Saints,” of course, referring simply to a community made up of past, present and future disciples of Christ.

So tomorrow is All Saints Day, and I’m preaching. All week I have been battling with what to preach about. The Methodist Church here does not celebrate All Saints Day. Sure, I recognize that this does not mean the congregation would not appreciate a once-off celebration of the saints among us here. The problem is deeper than that, though: the problem is that I am aware I’m being called to preach on something else.

So the battle continues. I have two sermons: the one I want to preach, and the one that came from the lectionary text.

I have been cognitively aware of the difference in these two, affirmed now by the fact that the one that’s drawn from the text is finally coming to be, while the one I initially wanted to preach has come to a standstill and feels a bit un-inspired.

So there you have it: I feel a bit as if this week I have been wresting with these texts as Jacob wrestled with God, and am grateful that in the end, I am not the one who has won. I am sure this is not the first time such a match has taken place, and I know it will not be the last. I just pray that the next time such a match takes place, the winner is as clear as it has been today.

A Beautiful Day!

I'm stuck in that rare, in-between moment of not having anything to do. It has been a very long time since I encountered such a moment.

Church this morning went pretty well, all things considered. Both Vince and I were a bit nervous about our sermons - it was pretty intense to preach on Biblical Authority! In preparation, I found myself more concerned with the precise words I chose than ever before, because it can be such a touchy topic! Ask me about it any time, and I'll have plenty to say about why Scripture is SO important and why we DO have to read even the most difficult passages that we don't know what to do with! But ask me to preach on it in 15 minutes? That was a LOT harder than anticipated! (unless, of course, you saw me last weekend... by then I had realized how difficult it was going to be!) If nothing else, I think it would be a great small group topic. I probably have enough to say on it to talk for a several-week session, but I bet even one night in the midst of others would be highly beneficial for any parties invovled.

Mike Kurtz, a friend from my home church in South Dakota, is in town this weekend for a work conference. It was great to have him with me in worship here this morning! Its a crazy thing when my very different, set-apart worlds collide with one another. That was the first time, I think (other than my sister) my home life of McCook ever collided with my lives elsewhere... at least, on my turf. I've taken people home, of course. But it was good, and I am glad for the opportunity to share a bit of what I'm doing here with someone who knew me and saw my gifts for ministry long before I would (verbally) acknowledge them - we were on SPRC together when I was in high school! It was good to catch up with Mike and hear a bit about the going-ons at McCook UMC (they're getting a new pastor! I think this will be a good thing!) over lunch.

In a hurry to leave the house this morning, I grabbed only my computer and no books for work to do this afternoon. I'm still at church, as I feel I need (want) to go to women's group tonight, and I decided it probably wouldn't be worth it to go all the way home only to turn around 2 hours later. I thought the amount of work I had to do on my computer would be sufficient, but it turns out I'm done earlier than anticipated! This is good news, and also a bit disappointed because I am usually quite productive while here! Alas, it has been good to finish the little work I did bring, catch up on emails, chat with my mother and, of course, update here. Now I've got just under an hour before the group meets, so I think I'll go grab a cup of coffee and actually read the newspaper for the first time in a long, long time. (I usually read it online)

Moving from "Thorns to Thanks"

After a scary moment yesterday morning in which my computer had an “attitude problem” and shut down unexpectedly, I was glad it was short-lived and got over it a couple hours later. Clearly it is never good to lose work or have a computer crash, but as I was to preach this morning and my sermon was saved on it, it seemed only all the more important. Fortunately, I lost minimal work and was able to finish my work on the plane/train back to Chicago.

This sermon was one of “those” sermons that I struggled with. Perhaps because it is such a “touchy” topic that I think has to be approached with a gentle yet persistent spirit. “Thorns to Thanks” was the title I was given from our sermon series… so I was preaching on Paul’s thorn and his ability to not just be thankful- but to BOAST of the thorns of his life.

After being unsettled with this sermon and continuing to make changes to it into the night (and even a few this morning), I was a bit uneasy with it until I was standing to preach it. Thankfully, as I stood and prayed to share the message I had prepared, I finally found peace with it, and felt it went okay. Thanks be to God!

As a student, it is days like this that I am thankful for affirmations of my own uncertainties. As there were a lot of guests in the early service this week, I made my way around to greet a few of them, and was surprised to discover that a great deal of our visitors were clergy from out of town! None of them were even together; it just happened to be coincidental that they came on the same morning. I sure am glad I did not know this before I stood up to preach- I’m sure knowing that would only have made me more nervous in my inexperience!

The good news of this is that I had a chance to speak with a few of them and hear their stories and share a bit about what seminary looks like here in Chicago. One man in particular was really surprised to learn that I was an intern/seminarian, that he wouldn’t have guessed it since I seemed so natural and comfortable giving the sermon. While I wouldn’t agree with that, I am honored to receive such a compliment from a retired clergyperson who has been in ministry for 50 years!

I know that I have a lot of things to continue working on, and am a long way from where I want to be as a preacher, teacher, pastor or student, among other things. But today, it is good to hear positive affirmations from people like him, who went on to (unknowingly) talk positively about me behind my back to my site committee chair, of all people. As I am often guilty of being my own worst critic, it is good to be reminded that it isn’t always necessary, because I’m not the one in charge. God has taken over and as I make room for movement of the Spirit, things beyond my own control are said and done for the glory of the Kingdom.

As I remember this and move into writing a short homily for a child’s funeral (a mock-assignment for a class), I am thankful. I am thankful that just as I preached about today, my weakness and vulnerability make me stronger in Christ. Today, that struggle or weakness was in choosing words and ways of relating God’s important message to God’s people who come to hear it. After re-working this sermon several times only to preach something different when I stood up anyway, I am thankful that my own hesitation was able to serve as a vessel of invitation for God to come and take over. I pray this kind of weakness is one that will never move away from me.

Winter.

I love winter. Really, I do.

I love the cold, crisp air that hits you as you walk outside. Freezing winter weather is the only time of year you can get that kind of fresh air even in the midst of a city with millions of people and too much pollution. Its beautiful and refreshing.

I love the beautiful white wintery snow that surrounds us... I love walking in it as it falls even more. Its a beautiful mystery of nature, a blessing God has given us to appreciate, marvel in, play in, take time to reflect and be peaceful in. It is glorious.

I could go on, but I think you get the point (since those are the two things people usually hate most about winter!). This year has actually felt like winter with lots of cold temperatures and snow, which is quite different from last year, in which this weather only lasted a couple of weeks.

As much as I love winter, I also sympathize with those who hate it... it definitely does seem to go on forever at times. That, and it does prohibit life from moving on- whether because the roads are too bad to be driving on or because it is too cold for anyone to safely be outside. This was the case this morning when a car wouldn't start so we did not go to the gym... it is only 3/4 of a mile, but that is a LONG walk when it is several degrees below zero (Fahrenheit) (this morning, I think it was -12 with the wind). Putting life at a standstill for more than a day or two at a time can be frustrating, to say the least.

That is why I am glad to be escaping to a different kind of winter. I'll be heading to Nashville tomorrow for a couple of days (I'll be back Saturday!) to attend an event for Blood:Water. I'm REALLY looking forward to it... and while there, I am also looking forward to the "break" in weather- where it will still be cold and rainy (maybe even some snow), but for the most part should be above freezing. Even if above freezing is only by one or two degrees... its a nearly 40 degree difference from here! I can't wait. :)

Now... back to reading... and writing my sermon for Sunday. I was hoping to finish these things before I leave in the morning, but for some reason God seems to think I should write a more intense message this week, and I'm not quite sure what to do with it. So it might take me a bit longer to figure out than originally anticipated. But hopefully it will be good for all- for me in the learning/writing process, and for the congregation that will hear the message this week.

I hope you are staying warm in this frigid weather! For those of you in warmer climates, in the midst of your summers, enjoy some extra sun rays for us! We could use them!

Finding Rest

I’m sitting in Starbucks between meetings, listening to the hum diverse voices that surround me. There are college students chatting over weekend events, students trying hard not to be distracted by others around them as they attempt to read and write for projects with what are probably quickly approaching deadlines. There is a father and son enjoying a nice afternoon chat, a “boys day out” as they talk about the many activities they could do with Mom gone for a day. Then of course young couples… some are new, others seem settled and comfortable, enjoying a casual chat- something no different from many days, I'm sure. Others sit alone or even at tables together with others while paying one another no attention; some are surfing the net, some are reading, others talking on the phone to people far away from here…

Sundays are a lovely day to do just this. To enjoy time in a coffee shop, away from the hustle and bustle and rush that seems to fill the rest of our world. I sit and type and watch those around me as I’ve made myself comfortable in a big, soft chair with my computer on my lap. A good friend sits in a similar chair opposite of me, and as we sip our latte’s, we are finding time to rest. To just be. To share the moment in the most distant and peaceful of ways, while looking up from our thoughts only enough to share the next funny or ridiculous comment or thought or an occassional statement from the Chicago Tribune. I love Sundays.

I preached this morning at Holy Covenant. We’re in the middle of yet another sermon series- this on finding ways to live a full Christian life. This week’s topic was “How to Rest.” I think of sermons on resting and realize that the last thing I want to hear- let alone preach- is another sermon on the Sabbath and how none of us take it but all of us should. So today was different, and I enjoyed the opportunity to work through and share my reflections on what it means to live a restful life.

Living a restful life. Not just taking a Sabbath once each week, but truly finding ways to be restful throughout our week, in all that we do. Christ says to us, “Come to me, all who are weary and broken and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” What can we do in our lives to seek and accept that kind of rest that only Christ can offer to us throughout the week… not just on Sundays or whichever other day we have designated as our day of Sabbath?

Finding Sabbath- truly finding rest- is a practice that almost all Christians struggle with. Yet it is so essential to our lives. It shapes us from the inside out- it shapes us in ways that are interconnected to one another as it forms us spiritually, emotionally, even physically as we learn to fully care for ourselves. In the past couple of years I have grown into the practice of taking a day of Sabbath each week. But finding rest in God- finding the kind of rest that Christ has called us to in this passage- is about more than that. Its about finding assurance and hope and a deep sense of peace that only God can provide for us in even the smallest details of our every day lives. Its about living a fully Christian life in all that we do and living in harmony with that life in such a way that we are truly fulfilled in it...

This morning, I was preaching to myself. Like many of those I was preaching to, I live a very busy, chaotic life. I always have something more to do- another meeting to go to, another paper to write, another phone call I need to return. I’m busy, the chaos I live with six days each week makes it only more important that I keep my Sabbath day each week. Yet I hope that in the weeks to come, I can learn what it means to be restful and live peacefully with all that I do. Maybe it starts with saying “no” more often. Maybe it means being more prayerful and intentional in all that I do. Or maybe I need to find my “closet” to which I can escape for even a brief moment of rest in the midst of activities I find myself in the center of. Because no matter where I am or what I am doing, when I am (we are) weary, broken, or tired, Christ is waiting for us to simply “come” that we might find rest. And I have a sneaky suspicion Christ wants us to come more than just on our one day of Sabbath each week.

Growing into Preaching

I had the opportunity to preach this past Sunday at Holy Covenant UMC where I am an intern, and while I have a long way to go as a preacher, it feels good to see and feel the improvement I have made over the last couple of months.

Preaching is something I have always taken for granted, thinking that it would be “easy” for me, as people have always told me what a great preacher they thought I would be. I am a natural-born story teller… telling stories is something I have loved to do since before I can remember. I once even had close friends tell me that they weren’t sure they knew me as well as they thought they did, because like the main character in the film Big Fish, if someone asks me a question, I often respond with an answer in the form of a question...

For me, this story-telling has been life-giving and I always thought it allowed people to see more of who I am, rather than keep people out. But we all learn and receive information in different ways, so it was good insight to understand that even my closest friends sometimes thought my “stories” were too much- or not enough- at times.

Back to this Sunday- for Advent, we are doing a sermon series on “The Unexpected Family Tree of Jesus.” This Sunday (Advent 3) was “Mary, The Pregnant Teenager.” It is both a blessing and a curse to be learning to preach in the midst of sermon series rather than following the lectionary from week to week (as my preaching professors would certainly prefer). It is also good to be learning in a congregation like this one, where I feel that people are incredibly honest- and helpful- in providing feedback.

There are lists of things I need to continue to work on before I become a “seasoned” preacher. To begin with, I have to be more comfortable with the eerie silence of the congregation. The silence is fine for the first 10 or so minutes… then I wonder whether people are with me, or zoned out, or…? And when you can hear a pin drop but have to keep talking, it’s a pretty intense feeling I’m just not used to. I wonder what it would be like to be in a congregation that responded to you as you were preaching? Certainly it would have its cons too (like when you KNOW someone doesn’t like what you’re saying), but I also think it’d be great- and perhaps easier? I never have a problem with silence/worrying about time when I had to preach in class- I wonder if that’s the atmosphere or if they’re more clearly engaged?

Surely these are questions of insecurity as I work through who I am as a preacher, how I will preach, etc. As I work through them and look forward to at least 5 more times to preach before the spring semester is up, I remain encouraged. Because no matter how insecure I may have felt about my sermon, it is good to know that those who were honest before with lists of things to work on, this time began with, “don’t be so hard on yourself- you should feel really good about this.”

Maybe they’re right. But on another token, it is good to struggle through. It is good that I have moved from thinking I “have it” as a preacher, to recognizing whether or not one is gifted, there is still a great deal of work to be done in preparation. For a dear friend so brilliantly reminded me a few days ago, that I should “never stop caring when it comes to the Word of God.” To continue to care is to continue to struggle and always want to do better. God help me if this struggle ever stops.