As many of you know, my husband and I are big movie buffs. We see at least one movie every weekend, and we read and write and talk about the Oscar buzz for months before the Academy Awards air on TV. (For some reason the Academy still doesn't consult us when selecting the winners or nominees, but we're working on it). As you can imagine, we went all out for the Oscars last night: a red-carpet of napkins across the table, finally using some beautiful gold embellished china for our snacks, popcorn in crystal glasses, and of course, a homemade ice cream sundae bar.
We stayed up way past our bedtime to watch all the awards being given out. Unlike apparently the rest of the world, I absolutely despised La La Land, finding it flashy, superficial, cynical, and somewhat sexist. So when Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway, after a confused exchange during which I assumed they had trouble reading the tiny font because I sure would, announced that the winner of the most coveted award of Best Picture was La La Land, I threw my ballot on the floor and stomped to the dining room to begin eating Thin Mints.
As you probably know, this wasn't the end of the story. A gracious producer of La La Land was handed the correct envelope which indicated that in fact Moonlight had won for Best Picture. He displayed that goodness of humanity as he walked to the microphone and cleared the situation.
Um.. Oops. My bad. Just kidding.
I mean, seriously, how do you recover from that? You just gave the biggest award of the night to a group of people who thought their wildest dreams had come true, and then passed a card to them revealing it was all a sick joke...ahem, mistake...and they were forced to hand over their dream-come-true award to another group of folks.
Not only that, but movies mean more than just good acting and neat shots. We care about movies because they dig deeply into our emotions, they portray things on the screen we can't always express in our everyday life. It's hard for me to imagine two more diametrically opposed films from 2016 than La La Land and Moonlight. La La Land is about the American dream from the perspective of "if you work hard enough, you can achieve your dreams." It features two privileged white folks who have a zillion opportunities for success thrown their way. It displays the glitz and the glamour of accomplishment and success, of sugar-sweet romance and dreams coming true. Moonlight, on the other hand, is a story about a black boy growing up in Miami, son of a drug addict mom, neglected, skinny, runty, and coming to a new understanding of his sexual orientation (he's gay). He doesn't rise above the poverty stricken area in a conventional way; he becomes a drug pusher himself in his adult life and makes a fine living doing so. He never seems to find perfect happiness or contentment in a romantic relationship; rather the film is about the struggle and the moments of hope that blip on the radar. For the Academy to choose a movie about struggle and challenge, a movie about minorities and stigma, over a movie about the white American dream and romance makes an enormous statement about our society. Moonlight was an important movie of 2016 because it showed a story that hasn't yet been told, a story that many of us are unaware exists. It transports us to someone else's shoes and allows us to see a part of the world we don't understand and wouldn't necessarily voluntarily seek. When the Academy followed through to take the Oscar away from La La Land and give it to Moonlight, it made a statement that the Academy is looking for more movies about real life, movies about the gritty, real, day-to-day challenges of real people, rather than movies about fantasy and dreams.
My bad...Did I do that???
I think about this #OscarsFail and I just have this palpable compassion for those involved in making this error. I think of the anger and frustration on the part of the La La Land team who was swept up to the stage to be yanked off again. I think of the humiliation of the presenters, Warren Beatty and Faye Dunnaway who aren't often in the spotlight these days, who will have weeks of social media torture. I think of the team behind Moonlight who had a belated and subdued celebration of their victory and who did not have sufficient time to say thank you. I even think of Steve Harvey, who had to relive his humiliation of reading the wrong Miss Universe winner (the internet immediately speculated a conspiracy theory about him being involved). In our society, we do not handle mistakes well. We hold them against individuals and companies for years or decades. We rarely take responsibility for our mistakes publicly, and when we do, we offer an explanation or an excuse.
Immediately amidst the craziness, Warren Beatty began to grab for the microphone in order to explain and excuse himself. He told the story that he had the wrong envelope that had the Lead Actress winner rather than Best Picture and that he and Faye were confused as to what had occurred. He provided an explanation, an excuse.
We are a culture that simultaneously expects perfection and is burdened by errors; a society that buries mistakes and assigns mountains of blame. When we personally make mistakes, it is hard for us to acknowledge them without shifting the blame elsewhere. Sometimes, myself included, we are so embarrassed about a mistake that it consumes us with anxiety, regret, and fear. I think of one of my personal heroes as a child: Steve Urkel on Family Matters:
Steve was hopelessly uncoordinated and socially awkward. He threw bowling balls out the window and knocked over dentistry equipment and blew a fuse in the living room and would always say, with a sheepish look on his face, "Did I do thaaaat?!?!"
Part of what made this so amusing was the fact that it was a shameless and odd thing to say. If you accidentally threw Carl Winslow's bowling ball out the window, the options for action might include: 1. profuse apology and self-shaming; 2. running with intense speed to get away; 3. crying; 4. coming up with some other excuse. We rarely ask someone, "Did I do that?" or "Was that my fault?" because we really don't want the answer to be "Yes, Steve, you did do that!" because then we are truly at fault. Then we've done something wrong and we are at the mercy of someone else to give us forgiveness.
Last night, the Academy chose the Steve Urkel route: they didn't rip up the card and pretend La La Land won and move on. They owned up to it: Yes, yes, we did do that, but we care enough about who we are as an organization and the movie that we wanted to reward that we will own up to our mistakes.
So...Lent...
Wednesday, of course, is Ash Wednesday, which begins the liturgical season of Lent. Traditionally, Ash Wednesday reminds us that we are dust and to dust we shall return, and Lent is the responsive 40 days of fasting and penitence that follow, days in which we confess both that we are sinful and that Christ is our salvation. Growing up surrounded by Roman Catholics, I had always taken this to mean that we give up those tempting candy bars and four-letter-words we all love. Sometimes, Lent has been a chance to start something new, to take on a new spiritual discipline, to focus on the empty tomb on Easter Sunday.
I think the Oscars last night show us that we are hungry for Lent to mean something more than tulips and colored eggs. We are challenged in Lent to own up to our failures and shortcomings, to the ways that we are not perfect and that we are not God. We are challenged in Lent to hand over the dream trophy to someone else. We are challenged to return to the truth about who we are and whose we are. We are challenged to celebrate the Moonlight moments of real, gritty, uncomfortable life, instead of just the La La Land moments of glitz and glamour.
As Lent comes upon us this Wednesday, I invite each of you to walk with me on this spiritual journey of letting go of the things that aren't fully us, even when they appear glamorous and opulent. The things that keep us from a real, substantial relationship with Jesus Christ. The places where we might long to build up our own ego at the expense of Jesus in our lives. On this journey, we will embrace fully the gritty, earthy, truth of life, of who we are, and of the earthy, humble messiah we worship. Let us walk with the human Jesus on the agonizing walk of love through Lent, from ashes to cross, and let us learn together more about who we are, and who Jesus is.
Yesterday, the lectionary was kind enough to provide us with the challenging text of Jesus commanding us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute you. You can see the sermon here:
I began praying over this text at least a month ago. I can't think of a more terrifying scripture from which to preach at this time. My social media accounts are saturated with the current political issues of the day, often from news sources that mock the character and credibility of our president, that speculate about possible policies, that turn careless phrases into prejudicial slurs. By no means is this a statement about politics: I'm not sure when the last time I had a conversation about politics and social/cultural issues in our country that did not take a turn into a personal attack from one side to the other. In fact, I confess that sometimes I find myself hearing the political opinion of a person in a way that alters my personal opinion of that person.
"If that person supports that political candidate, they obviously hate women...or they don't care about my moral values...or they are oblivious to racism in our culture...or, wait, why do I even associate with them at all?"
As I began to pray over this text, I found myself inundated with opportunities to pray for my "enemies." Simply, I began to pray for those who annoyed me on any given day. On Facebook and Twitter, it wasn't hard to find people for whom I was suddenly compelled to pray. But God began to sneak this into a lot of areas of my life. I began to pray for the show-off woman next to me at yoga.
I began to pray for the people we Pittsburghers call "jag-offs" who fail to use the turn signals in their car.
I began to pray for completely unhelpful grocery store clerks.
And the more I began to pray for these simple things, the more opportunities to pray for more challenging situations presented themselves.
Friends wanted to talk some trash about what some other friends were wearing or who was responsible for so and so's relationship failure. I prayed for friends, both who wanted to talk smack and those whose lives were out of whack.
***
I watched a documentary about white supremacists who commit hate crimes in our country, and I was overwhelmed with outrage: how on earth do people justify that kind of baseless hatred in their lives? How can they live from day to day so miserable? So I prayed for them, and I prayed for those who are hurt by their hurtful thoughts and actions.
***
The list continues, but some of these stories are too personal to post. The more I began to gain an awareness of those who filled me with anger or frustration, the more I began to lift them over to God, the more I realized how many people this included. The more I realized that the very things that anger me about others are the same things that anger me about myself. The more I began to love, and care and consider my own self.
********
Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge against one of your people, but love your neighbor as yourself. I am the LORD.
Leviticus 19.18
I began my sermon with the story of Michael Donald, a young black man in Mobile, AL who was murdered by members of the Klan in 1981. His mama, Beulah Mae Donald, won a civil suit against the Klan that effectively bankrupted and liquidated the official Klan at that time. I have read countless articles this week and watched a documentary that accounts for her great faithfulness and strength. I am so incredibly inspired by Miss Beulah Mae. Most of us, thankfully, will not have to live through the horrible nightmare that Miss Beulah Mae lived through, but she gives us an example to strive for.
When someone does or says something particularly hurtful, when my enemy slaps my cheek or sues me, the love I am commanded to hold in my heart does not exempt that person from consequences. Loving my enemies doesn't mean that they get away with abuse and violence, but it does mean that their hurtful actions and thoughts have less power over me.
Far from being an expert at loving enemies, the preparation for this sermon has been a spiritual journey for me, and I hope that you'll join me in this challenging walk alongside Jesus.
For the full story of Michael Donald and Beulah Mae:
Every year, our high school youth put on the Pasta Night as a fundraiser to raise money for both the High School Mission Trip and Montreat Youth Conference. This money is absolutely crucial for our summer programming here at Unity.
Dollar Bills, y'all
Here are a few ways that money is needed for our summer trips:
High School Mission Trip
Budget:
$2,000
Transportation:
To transport our youth to and from the trips, we need to rent vehicles, usually vehicles with a capacity to hold 8-12 kids. To rent a van for one week costs around $1,000. To fuel that van for one week, costs around $400.
Food
To feed kids, we are able to do it relatively inexpensively, aiming for about $8 per day per kid ($64 per kid for the week). This is not including foods for food allergies, meals out, or any emergency food situations.
Lodging
To stay at a church or facility, the charge is usually around $20 per kid per night ($140 per kid per week).
Materials
While some thing we ask youth to bring with them, we often find ourselves purchasing hammers and nails, safety goggles, water bottles, gloves, handkerchiefs, etc.
Chaperones
While we charge each youth $250 to attend the Mission Trip, we are so grateful of chaperones giving of their valuable time, that we do not charge them for their week. This means we have to account for transportation, food, lodging, and materials for chaperones as well.
If we take, for example, 15 youth and 5 chaperones (a likely estimate), the cost per student would be $525 per person (a total cost of $7,880). Pasta Night helps us to bring that total cost down.
Montreat Youth Conference
Budget:
$3,000
Transportation:
To transport youth to and from, we need to either rent vehicles or ask adults to drive their vehicles, in which case we would need to reimburse for gas and mileage. We also need to ensure that enough seats exist in our vehicles throughout the week for all of our youth in case of an emergency and for our trip down the mountain. This costs between $1,400 and $2,800.
Camp Fees
The registration fee for Montreat is $325 per person; the housing and meals cost $300 per person. This means that Montreat actually charges us $625 per person.
Chaperones:
We do have a chaperone budget of $1400. As our numbers increase for this event, we need more and more chaperones to help out. Our lowest possible cost for chaperones is $2,150.
If we take for example 25 youth and 5 chaperones (a reasonable estimate), the total cost would be $18, 425, cost per student: $561. Again, Pasta Night helps us to bring that total cost down.
***
So yeah, we won't sugar coat it, we need money to make these ministries possible. But is that the only reason we do Pasta Night? By no means...
Showing up
And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another...
Hebrews 10.24-25
I'm not sure anyone who has spent any length of time in our congregation would deny that a crucial part of the DNA of our congregation is meeting together and enjoying one another's company. Just a few weeks ago, as we ordained Deacons and Elders, the greeting and fellowship that followed delayed worship for several minutes. This, my friends, is a gift and a call from God. When we gather for Congregational Breakfasts, when we meet for Sunday Night Live dinners, when we attend the Lunch Bunch or the Men's Breakfast, or the Mother-Daughter-Sister-Friend Luncheon (or many other things), we participate in the love of God through the communion of the Holy Spirit. We are a part of God's family; we rejoice in God's presence in our community.
Our high school youth want to provide an opportunity for this joy and fellowship through Pasta Night. Pasta Night is for all of us, young and old, men and women, members and non-members, all. of. us. to come together and enjoy each other and enjoy God.
Servers
Of course, we always have the youth serve our guests by bringing them food and beverages, by showing them to their tables, by preparing the meal, but it is more than that. This church has stretched itself in a variety of ways to provide for the upbringing of its teenagers. We are not unaware of the many dollars donated, hours sacrificed, prayers offered, rooms cleaned, and work done so that we can meet on Sundays and bond as a youth group. We are extremely grateful for your love, and we want to remind you that Youth Ministry is not a ministry that hides from the congregation who loves it so dearly; rather Youth Ministry stands boldly and humbly as members of the congregation who love this church and want to know more its people and its history. This is a chance for us to give back to you.
Showing Off
As a highly competitive person, the youth pastor wouldn't be satisfied without bragging on her teenagers. It is far too often that we see teenagers on TV as addicts, criminals, lewd, angry, rebellious, and selfish. I am sure that any adult who help with youth group can attest for you that our teenagers exemplify excellent moral character, unfailing kindness, and loving selflessness. Pasta Night is a chance for us to show off how absolutely wonderful our youth are here at Unity Presbyterian Church. It's a chance for you to be blessed by getting to know them in a new and perhaps unexpected way.
So...is it too late?
The deadline has passed for Pasta Night, but we do have about 50 spots left for reservations. Pasta Night is Saturday, February 11 (THIS SATURDAY), seatings at 5:00 and 6:30 pm or TO-GO; menu options: Spaghetti with Meat Sauce, Chicken Alfredo, and Pasta Primavera. The cost is $12 for adults/youth and $6 for kids. Please email Lindsay before Thursday at 5:00 to make your reservation (lwhite@unityfortmill.org).
Remember! There will be a Silent Auction and fantastic entertainment along with scrumptious Italian food. Don't miss it!
Two weeks ago, 20+ students from our youth group spent two hours and considerable elbow grease dusting the both the new and old sanctuaries of our church.
We went over each surface at least twice. We stuck the corners of our rags into every crack and crevice. We worked hard. At the end of our time together, David (one of our sextons) came and thanked us for our work telling us we had done a great job. Before I could even reply, I heard a chorus of students behind me say, "Thank YOU David for all the hard work that you do so that we can have our programs."
You see, two people are in charge of the cleaning and care of our entire property, with all of its buildings and light bulbs and bathrooms and lawn work and dust and carpets and trash....and on and on and on. Our youth reflected about how many lightbulbs would need to be changed and how many surfaces collect dust each day. They reflected on all the things that need to happen in order for them to have youth group each week, all the trash that is taken out from their snacks, all the waste that is cleaned up behind them -- a lot of work, a lot of behind the scenes, thankless work. Spending two hours hard scrubbing might not be the most enjoyable afternoon, but it enabled our youth to reflect on the many things that are necessary for the church to function as it does, especially a church our size.
Happily Ever After...Ish?
Often, this is where we end out testimony. I am perhaps the most guilty of this: I like to tell you all the successes and the blessings and the joys of youth ministry in our congregation. I like you to know that your youth are learning and making a difference in their community. Even in times that aren't as great, I like to spin it around to sound good or talk about what we've learned or how we are going to do better in the future or frankly, I just leave out some of the mess. Everyone doesn't need to know all the sordid details of youth ministry.
We really liketo tell stories of faith and mission that end with shiny pews and smiling sextons. But discipleship is not a fairy tale that ends with perfection and happily ever after.
On Wednesday of last week, a crew came into the new sanctuary to climb a considerable height to change some of those light bulbs. (As a side note, I should have sat and watched, as the sheer cavernous quality of our sanctuary is mind-blowing to me.) As they worked, a sprinkle of debris turned into a blizzard of dust particles cascading in earnest onto the freshly polished chairs, pews, and and wood surfaces below. Many observers came to me and expressed their dismay about the dust:
Oh no, the work the youth did was completely negated.
Oh dear, the youth will feel so bad.
Even after all that help, now the sextons will still have to do the work of dusting once again.
When I first heard these statements, I confess it was much the same feeling I have each week when I put on my freshly cleaned white Saturday sweatshirt, last week's coffee stain carefully and diligently removed, only to immediately spill my first cup of coffee down my front.
Total frustration. Overwhelming exasperation. Admit it: you know the feeling I'm talking about. When you've just cleaned the kitchen sink and someone puts in a dirty plate caked with dried food. When you've just cleaned the litter box and your cat chooses that moment for his morning constitution. When you've just cleaned and organized your desk and a pile of papers comes into your inbox.
Sometimes it's like the chores of life never end; we just cycle back through them over and over again. Sometimes we put all of our effort into something that goes unrewarded and unnoticed. Sometimes no matter how hard we work, it's like we can't get ahead. Sometimes, if we are really honest with ourselves, we wonder why we even try, if our efforts really made a difference, if there was a point to any of this.
The total monotony of discipleship
The reality is that discipleship can often be like dusting our sanctuary: by the time you finish, the other side has already gotten dusty again. Whether it was workers changing light bulbs or just simply time, the dust returns and must be scrubbed away. We can avoid it, sure, but in a few weeks, as we pull out our hymnals, feeling the grit of their dirtiness and sneezing as the dust assaults our noses, we know it simply can't be avoided any longer.
When I think of the monotony of discipleship, I think about the Israelites in the desert. After weeks of wandering and eating nothing but manna, the Israelites cry out, "If only we had meat to eat! We remember the fish we used to eat in Egypt for nothing, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic; but now our strength is dried up, and there is nothing but this manna to look at!" (Numbers 11.4-6).
We long for the cucumbers and the fish, the melons and the leeks, the onions and the garlic, the wild, flavorful, vibrant pieces of discipleship. We long to be doing exciting and adventurous things, things that make a big difference, things that make us feel good and like we are a part of something bigger than ourselves. We signed up for this Christian journey for the excitement of the Promised Land and the hipster Jesus bracelets. We didn't sign up for manna...day in and day out...manna...bland, bland manna.
God responds that humankind does not live on bread alone but on the word of the Lord. We do not do this whole Christianity thing for the glory, and the warm fuzzy feelings and the total ecstasy we feel. We do this whole Christianity thing because we are following God, because we are committed to God's will and God's journey, because we want to give the glory and honor, praise and majesty to God. That means a lot of discipleship is eating boring manna. A lot of discipleship is endless dusting of the sanctuary and shredding documents and sitting in meetings and cleaning up the kitchen after we're done and stuff that's not sexy or glamorous but contributes to the real experience of worshiping Jesus.
Just keep swimming...
So today, I want to encourage us to do a couple of things:
1. Let's celebrate the monotony as well as the excitement. When we tell stories of discipleship, let's tell about dusting as well as about worship at Montreat; let's tell of digging post holes as well as the beach trip; let's tell of service as well as games. Let's not complain that the manna is getting bland and boring; rather let us give thanks that we have manna at all.
2. Let's look not for entertainment but for Jesus, not for fulfillment but for Jesus, not for self-satisfaction but for Jesus. For Jesus.
I receive a friend request from a former student on Facebook. I look at the name and the picture of the nearly unrecognizable young man and remember nearly 10 years ago being on a mission trip with him. I can vividly remember my eyes welling up as he spoke gently to folks with special needs and worked hard to clean up dinner. With eagerness, I accept the request and go to check out his profile. What I find is meme after meme of racist slurs and sexist remarks. What I find is a commitment to atheism and self preservation. What I find is not the kiddo I remember who had so much potential.
*****
I see a student I had as a camper on the news. She's at a demonstration downtown and proudly waving her atheist and anarchist flags. I wish I saw the beautiful, eager, and spiritually hungry girl I saw at camp, but I see an angry, bitter young woman who has walked away from the seeds that were planted.
*****
I'm on a mission trip, and I find out that my seniors, whom I've worked with for five years, are lying to me and keeping their cell phones. Although they are hard workers and have good hearts, they can be found lounging on work sites and leaving others out of their conversations. Five years of work, five years of love and kindness and discipleship, and here they are, disrespecting me and others in the group.
*****
After three years of discipleship and intimate relationship, Jesus kneels at the last supper to wash the feet of his disciples. Jesus washes the feet of men who will run away merely hours from now as he's arrested. Men who will deny him in public. A man who will betray him for 30 pieces of silver. A man who will doubt when he is miraculously resurrected. This is not the Olympic team of disciples; these are not the close followers that perhaps Jesus could have hoped for, perhaps that he deserved.
#DiscipleshipFails and other things I learned last week
Last week, I had the great privilege of attending the annual Disciple Making Conference put on by Presbyterian Mission Agency in St. Pete Beach, Florida. The speaker, Rev. Jeff Eddings, a dear friend and mentor to me, focused our time on the spiritual disciplines and musings of St. Ignatius of Loyola. I have learned a lot from this, and I'm sure that it will bleed into much of what I talk about over the next several weeks, but one of the greatest pieces of insight we discussed was a movement from the phrase "disciple-making" to "disciple-allowing."
Failure:
I'm rather competitive. I don't like to fail. I constantly assess my progress and skills. When I ran the half marathon in Pittsburgh 3 years ago, I was disappointed because I ran it two minutes slower than my goal (never mind that I ran the whole thing and still managed an 10:30 min/mile pace, which was great for me). I'm absolutely inconsolable today as I mourn the Steeler loss to [Bill Belle-cheat and the] New England Patriots [the refs were paid!]. As a child, I would do anything to convince my brother to swim races with me because I knew it was the only sport I could beat him in. I don't like failure and I have a high standard of what it means to succeed.
I think many of us have been conditioned this way. Nearly every week, I am asked by congregation members how many youth are attending youth group each week. When our youth shared life-transforming stories on Youth Sunday, many of us were moved to tears hearing our young people standing up for their faith. That day really felt like a success, and I heard many folks tell me such.
In 10 years of youth ministry, I honestly can't say that I don't have a minor panic every time a kid stops coming to youth group or gets in trouble for something or disappoints me in some way. I ride the high of Youth Sunday with vigor, and I crash along with my youth when I hear about their mistakes and unhealthy decisions. Sometimes ministry feels like one step forward, three steps back.
At the Disciple Allowing Conference, we had a discussion about #discipleshipfails. We talked about how failure is never the last word, but also how success is actually not the last word either. We talked about how we are obsessed [a disordered attachment] with whether or not we consider a ministry a success or failure; we are molded and sculpted by our production and consumerist society.
Is God calling us to constantly produce? To produce perfect, cookie-cutter disciples? To produce seamless mission projects? To produce and produce and produce and for our congregation to consume consume consume?
Scripture: The parable of the sower
I have been reflecting on Matthew 13.1-9 and 18-23. In this parable, Jesus tells of a farmer who sows seeds in a variety of places: along the path, in rocky places, among thorns, and on good soil. Of course, in the less ideal places, the seeds do not take root and they are snatched up or wither and die. In the good soil, the harvest is plentiful.
As I have read this parable over the years, I have focused on the meaning Jesus speaks of in vv. 18-23, I have focused on the seeds and how they grow. Recently, however, I have been reflecting on the farmer. I'm not a farmer, but my great grandparents were. My Pap Pap was very organized when he planted plants. His part of the garden was neatly planted and organized and labeled, But my Nunny (and my Uncle Butchy) would scatter their seeds wherever and hope that some of them would grow. As a result we would have sunflowers on the rocky path and tomatoes growing against the house.
I am struck by the fact that this farmer just tosses seed wherever he goes. Each seed has this unlimited life potential as he tosses it in the fields, but he does not protect or control the seeds: he tosses seeds in places where growth might be stunted or unsure. It's almost as thought he isn't sure where the good soil might be or that he has hope for every kind of soil. Perhaps the job of the one sowing the seed isn't to judge the soil or manipulate the conditions for growth, but rather to simply plant the seeds and pray for their growth.
Indeed, that seems to connect to 1 Corinthians 3. 6-9:
I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow. So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow. The man who plants and the man who waters have one purpose, and each will be rewarded according to his own labor. For we are God's fellow workers; you are God's field, God's building.
Perhaps those of us who devote a part of our lives to making youth into disciples [youth advisors, pastors, friends, parents, teachers], perhaps we are trying to control the growth of disciples too much. Perhaps we are trying to take the role of God. Perhaps it is not our job to understand the quality of the soil or the progress of each disciple; perhaps it is our job to indiscriminately spread the seed of the gospel. Perhaps it is simply our job to create a situation where faith might grow, should the seeds decide to accept the nutrients of the soil and to transform into a plant.
Rev. Jeff Eddings described this another way: he said he thinks of our faith much like the story of the three little pigs. For many years, he felt as a pastor it was our responsibility to stand between the houses of the three little pigs and prevent the Big Bad Wolf from blowing them down. Perhaps it was even his job to help the piggies trade straw for brick.
Through his ministry, Jeff has learned that the Big Bad Wolf comes whether he is standing there or not. The piggies's houses blow down, whether they're made of straw or wood, or even brick. His job as pastor isn't to manipulate or prevent the wind or the building of the house. Rather, the job of pastor is to sit with the piggies in the pile of rubble that once was their house (their faith) and to sift through the mess to find what is good, to find the new beams and bricks upon which the new faith might be built. Ultimately, however, the piggies have to build their own houses.
By their own initiative...
A little over a year ago, the Youth Ministry Team prepared 5 goals for youth ministry at Unity Presbyterian Church. In my personal opinion, the best, most comprehensive one is the first one:
To create opportunities for youth to develop personal relationships with God by their own initiative.
So basically, our goal is to spread some seed. No matter how many Montreats I go on, Confirmation classes we teach, youth groups I run, Bible Studies we lead, Sunday School lessons one attends, or mission opportunities we offer, I can't be the Holy Spirit. I can't force a kid to fall in love with Jesus. I'm imagining Bruce Almighty as he stands in the street and stares at Jennifer Aniston yelling, "Love me!!!!"
Love doesn't work like that. Neither does faith. Neither does discipleship. Each person has to develop a personal relationship with God by their own initiative.
This means I'm just a farmer. This means I just toss the seed out there and pray it takes root. This means, I don't judge the soil or pull the weeds or prevent the Big Bad Wolf from coming; it means that I am present, hopeful, and faithful. It means that you, also, as parents, as pastors, as educators, as advisors and mentors, you are just farmers, just folks doing the planting and the watering...y'all can't control the growth. Only God controls the growth of the seeds. This is both extremely frustrating as one who wants to make everything work perfectly, and extremely liberating in knowing that I have limitations. It's ego-deflating and humbling. It reminds me that God is God so that I don't have to be. It reminds me that when discipleship seems to #fail, the weeds and the thorns and the birds do not have the last word. The Holy Spirit continues to work.
****
If Jesus can look Simon Peter in the eye and wash his feet, and serve him as his disciple and friend, knowing that in a matter of hours this man would pretend that he didn't know Jesus, if Jesus can do that, who am I to place discipleship in a box? The rock on whom Jesus built the church chose self-preservation over discipleship in the most critical moment, the moment when Jesus, as a human, needed him the most. The man that Jesus chose to spread his word to the Gentiles was Paul, exactly the man who was trying to kill Jesus' disciples and followers.
I don't get to decide how these discipleship journeys end up. I don't get to evaluate whether we are succeeding or failing in our ministries. I don't get to force kids to love Jesus. I just get to spread the seed and make the opportunity possible. I just get to watch as God's garden grows.
They say it only takes one winter in a new place to change your blood, and I'd have to say I agree. I have never loved the snow or the cold, especially in my adult life when snow and cold means waking up a half hour earlier to clean off my car and struggle to get to work. This weekend's "snow" storm (which was mostly ice in my area) has not exactly been my cup of tea (although it has inspired me drink a lot of tea). Now mind you, I lived through the blizzard of 2010 in Pittsburgh:
{my car}
{a lawn chair}
{our road}
But on Saturday morning, I spent a couple of hours watching the snow fall with my southern kitty, George Hairyson, who had never seen snow. I relished in the warmth of my home and did everything in my power not to leave. On Sunday morning, I woke up late for church and went about my normal routine. At 10:00 I went out to find that unfortunately the snow had not melted off of my car and neither had the ice. I sighed and turned the car defrosters on full blast. I crawled into the trunk to find the flimsy scraper/brush that I have (my nice one was left to my brother in Pittsburgh) and began to work on the rear windshield. After 20 seconds of hard work and not much progress made, I sheepishly looked around the parking lot. Of the 8 people out scraping their cars, I was the only one with a real scraper. All others were glaring at me with contempt or outright envy as they scraped their cars with pancake flippers, sleeves, and scrub brushes. Even with the proper equipment this was going to take a while.
I finally gave up on the back, figuring the defroster could help me if I waited patiently, and walked to the side of the car, only to find I had absentmindedly left the driver-side door open, allowing all this cold air to come in and nullify the effects of my blasting defroster. Cursing myself, I shut the icy door and continued my process. All the while, I could hear my father's voice in my head telling me not to leave any snow on my lights and to be very thorough so the ice and snow didn't fly off my car while going down the road. I confess, at 10:25, I grumpily got into my car, tossing my puny scraper onto the floor and began running the windshield wipers like mad. I pulled out with only two small spots to see out of, and hid under the brim of my winter hat to avoid being associated with this absolutely terribly scraped car. Even though no one would know I'm from the north by my North Carolina license plate, it felt as though the southern sun was glaring at me, exposing my quickly fading northern winter survival skills. I arrived at church much later than I had hoped, completely out of my routine, with cold ears, cold fingers, and cold toes....not to mention a rather grumpy disposition. This week's blast of winter weather altered my routine and knocked me off-kilter. And of course, I moved to the south on purpose: this was not a welcome winter weather system in the White household.
Baptism of the Lord
It just so happens that this Sunday was Baptism of the Lord Sunday. We celebrate Jesus' baptism by John in the Jordan River, and we remember with joy our own baptisms. But what does that really mean?
Baptism in the PCUSA
Baptism means lots of things in different denominations, and in the Presbyterian Church USA, we believe that baptism is a sacrament in which everyone may participate. The Book of Order (our constitution) states, "Baptism is the sign and seal of incorporation into Christ." In other words, baptism is the physical sign and secure assurance that the individual being baptized is a member of the family of God. That's why we baptize infants - because before we could think for ourselves, God claims us and seals us as belonging to the family of God. The congregation promises to contribute to the upbringing of that child in the family of God. The sense of inclusiveness found in baptism is essential to our Presbyterian beliefs on the matter, and it is what we emphasize as we wipe the cool water across the heads of infants and adults who come to the waters.
There is a less cute and fluffy side to baptism, however. The Book of Order continues, "In Baptism, we participate in Jesus' death and resurrection. In Baptism, we die to what separates us from God and are raised to newness of life in Jesus Christ, who died for us and was raised for us." We participate in death. We die. Not exactly appropriate for Disney's next animated feature.
{p.s. this picture is so creepy and weird...gah...}
In baptism, the parents and the congregation promise to reject a life of sin, a life without Christ, and to be committed anew to a resurrected life following Jesus Christ. God promises to let the life of sin be washed from us in the waters of baptism and cast to the bottom of the sea; God promises to see us as resurrected and new, as recreated in God's Kingdom.
While I love the Presbyterian Church's attention to joy and celebration and commitment to practicality (and I'm grateful I don't have to wade in rivers and dunk people's heads under water), I think the Baptists capture something we don't in their "slam-dunk" approach. I was baptized as an infant, so I don't remember, but I've watched immersion baptism, and I can imagine the discomfort and challenge. The person being baptized comes, probably feeling awkward and exposed before the pastor and the congregation. He/she leans back into the arms of the pastor and trusts that as he/she goes under the water, that they will surface again, trusts that the pastor will not drop him/her in the water, that the submersion is temporary. The one being baptized emerges from the water at a pull from the pastor's hand on their neck, breathing in that first breath as though they were being born again, born anew. I can imagine the cool pressure and slight panic of the water surrounding you and then the sharp relief of that first gasp of air as you come up. There is something totally vulnerable and deeply uncomfortable about immersion baptism, about being dunked in the water, that we don't fully capture in the Presbyterian Church with our sprinkle and smear. It exposes our needs, our fragility, our dependence on God for survival. It is challenging, uncomfortable, and unpleasant.
So back to the ice...
It seems fitting to me that on the weekend of Baptism of the Lord Sunday, we should be washed over by ice and snow. On Friday night, as we ventured out for dinner in the 35 degree weather and rain, my husband declared in a most crotchety voice, "This is absolutely my least favorite weather." I must agree: those cold drops will chill you to the bone and it seems that my toes and my nose will never be warm again. This type of weather is uncomfortable: it disrupts our routine, calls us to change our clothing and our awareness, and forces us to pay attention to the water on the road and the droplets on the trees. The only thing I look forward to when winter weather rolls through the region is the possibility of a snow day or snow delay when I get to stay home and cuddle George Hairyson and knit and make soup.
{I mean, who wouldn't want to cuddle this cutie all day?!?!}
And weirdly this same type of disruptive discomfort found in a storm of frigid precipitation is strangely similar to what we celebrate in Baptism. We celebrate the uncomfortable, vulnerable submersion of our sin-sick selves into God's cleansing and purifying waters; we celebrate our explosion from the waters, our gasping for air, our disorienting first breath. We celebrate the challenging call found in a life of discipleship, a life that asks us not to sit comfortably with George Hairyson all day long; a life that commands us to stand in uncomfortable places as we follow Jesus.
So as we celebrate cold weather and startling baptisms, let us feel the challenge and call of our baptism in our lives. We are called to a life of discipleship that takes us to the frozen windshields of life. Unlike this terrible northern example, we are called to continue the job even when it is difficult, when our hands our frozen and our patience is fried and we are cranky and embarrassed and inconvenienced. There are opportunities every day for us to step out of our comfort zone and into the cold weather of Christian discipleship. How will we respond to that challenge today? This week?
In case for some reason you were living under a rock and haven't looked at your calendar yet, Christmas indeed falls on a Sunday this year (might sound silly, but really, folks, this time of year, it's perfectly normal to forget which day it is....I do it all the time.) In our time now, we don't normally have a Christmas Day worship service, so when Christmas falls on a Sunday, Christmas worship in the morning falls smack dab in the middle of planned events. Unity will be offering one worship service at 10:00 am on Christmas Day and New Years Day. Every house is different on Christmas, but when I was a little girl, 10:00 am was our traditional Christmas brunch time. As a teenager, sometimes we would be unwrapping presents at 10:00, although sometimes we would still be sleeping. And as an adult, 10:00 is when I start preparing food items and either packing for a trip to someone's home or preparing my home for guests. Perhaps you are traveling or perhaps Christmas is the only day you have off. Perhaps you or someone in your home is ill (strep anyone?) and would like to keep your germs at home. Perhaps you come to the 11:00 pm worship on Christmas Eve and can't manage to get back at 10:00 am the next day. As a pastor, let me say that I know worship will be meaningful and fellowship will be friendly on Christmas morning at Unity Presbyterian Church, and if you can come, do come, and be renewed by this rich worship experience. As a fellow human being, let me say that I empathize with the Christmas morning chaos, and I myself will be cleaning my house, rolling fresh gnocchi, and whipping gallons of cream in anticipation of my family coming into town, and I will not be in worship on Sunday.
I often explain that my goal with the youth is not for each teenager to have perfect youth group and Sunday School attendance (although we love to have you as often as you can), but that when they leave the doors of this church, they live as followers of Jesus Christ in all their busy lives filled with rehearsal, matches, meets, tests, jobs, and friendships. Faith is not limited to what is felt within the walls of Unity Presbyterian Church; rather Unity Presbyterian Church ought to inspire faithful lives.
The same is true for Christmas Day: even if you are unable to attend a worship service on Christmas morning, you can still faithfully follow Jesus Christ throughout your day, individually and as a family. For my blog today, here is a list of ideas I have for worshiping God individually and as a family on Christmas Day:
When I was growing up, we saw a lot of Christmases: ones with a ton of gifts, ones with only a few gifts; ones when family all came together, ones when family were far apart, ill, or disgruntled; ones when the food filled you to burst, ones when the ham was dry or the turkey was overcooked. I've known Christmases when the list to Santa Claus was first and foremost in my brain and others when I was more excited to bake Jesus's birthday cake. I've seen my share of white Christmases and icy Christmases and hot Christmases and brown muddy gray Christmases. What I learned every year, however, was that Christmas was a time to be grateful for whatever it was that happened that year. The year that I had the stomach flu, I was grateful for my Wallflowers CD and new CD player that kept me company while I laid in bed. One year, the only gift I received from my parents was a professional wooden clarinet, and I was grateful for the sound it produced and the way it felt and smelled in my hands. On years when the snow drifted up to my knees, I was thankful for snow to play in and safe travels for my relatives. I was always thankful that my Dad was always off of work and home to cook on Christmas Day.
As you go through the day, you might challenge yourself or your family to say a prayer of thanks for each thing they notice to be grateful for this year. Here's a sample prayer:
For these gifts, Lord Jesus, we are thankful.
#9: Birthday Cake for Jesus - not just for kids...
When I was a little girl, my mom and grandmother would help me bake a cake for Jesus after breakfast on Christmas Day. The cake would be our dessert, and we would say a prayer as a family before we ate it. I can remember in my pre-teen years when playing with the newest video game console held more excitement than baking in the kitchen, I wanted to just buy a box cake mix and use plain icing, no words or designs. After all, as I said, I don't think Jesus would mind or care and he's not here to eat it. My mom wouldn't hear of it, saying that we give Jesus our very best because he is the very best.
From that day onward, I would spend hours, some years even weeks, finding a perfect difficult recipe for Jesus' birthday cakes: We had dark chocolate mint brownies once and a lemon pound cake another time; carrot cake and pecan cake and coconut cake...the list continues.As a teenager, it was a challenge for me to find a recipe and bake it on Christmas Day; I wanted to beat my skills from last year.
So perhaps this year, when your family gathers for dessert, you can dub it Jesus' birthday cake, the very best to give for the very best who came, and say a prayer of thanks to Jesus. It may seem a little cheesy, but it forced me and my family to remember why we had gathered in the first place. Here's a prayer for Jesus' birthday celebration:
For the gift of God with us, Emmanuel, God in the flesh, born this day through Jesus the Christ child, we give you our thanks and praise. Amen.
#8: For Over-Achievers and Lovers of Liturgy
I have on many occasions blogged and spoken about my love for tradition and liturgy. Good liturgy and traditional words connect us to the communion of saints, the followers of Jesus in every time and place. When I recite liturgy on Sunday morning, I connect by the power of the Holy Spirit, with my brothers and sisters, friends and colleagues in churches throughout the country and even the world. I connect with my deceased Sunday School teacher, Mrs. Schwartz and spiritual mentors of every age: Karl Barth, St. Augustine, and Joan of Arc. We become one with a great chorus of believers in every time and place who give worship and glory to our God. If you crave this connective experience, here are two Christmas Litany's that come from the Book of Common Worship and have been recited in many times and many ways
Litany A
The Word was made flesh.
Alleluia, Alleluia!
and dwelt among us,
Alleluia, Alleluia!
Jesus, Son of the living God, splendor of the Father, Light eternal:
Glory to you, O Lord!
Jesus, King of glory, Sun of righteousness, born of the Virgin Mary:
Jesus, Prince of Peace, Shepherd of souls, perfect in holiness:
Glory to you, O Lord!
Jesus, Friend of all, protector of the poor, Treasure of the faithful:
Glory to you, O Lord!
Jesus, Good Shepherd, inexhaustible Wisdom, our Way, our Truth, and our Life:
Glory to you, O Lord!
Jesus, joy of the angels, and crown of all the saints:
Glory to you, O Lord!
This Litany would be a great one to do with the whole family, having one member read the non-bolded parts and the rest of the family respond with the exclamations in bold.
For a more serious, contemplative approach, try this:
Litany B
All the ends of the earth
have seen the salvation of our God. Alleluia!
Shout to the Lord, all the earth. Alleluia!
O Christ, splendor of God's eternal glory,
the mighty Word, sustaining the universe:
Renew our lives by your presence.
Lord have mercy.
O Christ, born into the world in the fullness of time
for the liberation of all creation:
Release all into your promised freedom.
Lord have mercy.
O Christ, begotten of the Father before all time,
born in a stable at Bethlehem:
May your church be a sign of hope and joy.
Lord have mercy.
O Christ, truly God and truly human,
born to a people in fulfillment of their expectations:
Fulfill our desires in you.
Lord have mercy.
O Christ, born of the Virgin Mary,
child of wonder and splendor,
mighty God of all ages, Prince of Peace:
May the whole world live in peace and justice.
Lord have mercy.
#7: For Children as they open gifts
I can remember being in middle school and right after Christmas morning, I'd get a phone call from my friends and we'd discuss what we received. I can remember kids saying things like "My parents really skipped out this year" or "I didn't really get everything I wanted." An attitude of gratitude is not "cool" or easy to come by in the holiday season, especially when our children grow accustomed to a Christmas morning that looks and feels a lot like a shark feeding frenzy only with children and gifts.
Families have lots of ways of dealing with this, and I applaud each of your efforts to give your children a fun, exciting, and happy Christmas as well as a grateful one. Here are two prayers, one for children and one for parents that might help with the thankfulness factor during the feeding frenzy:
For Children
Lord Jesus, wise men traveled for miles to bring you the first Christmas presents. So may we too remember with thankful hearts the love that comes with each present we open. We also thank you for the amazing love you have for each of us, and we thank you for the many gifts you give to us. Amen.
For Moms and Dads, Grammy's and Grampy's
Let me just for a moment, Lord, hold this time in my heart. It is about mysteries and gratitude, unknowing and wrong sizes, snippets of ribbon and screams of delight. Help me to remember the immense love you have for each of us in this room. With each gift that is opened, no matter how perfect or not, let me feel again the many ways that you gift us each day, especially with your presence in our hearts and the presence of each other in our lives. In Jesus' name, Amen.
Perhaps you'd like to really feel like you've gone through a Presbyterian worship service? Here's an example order of worship you can use to worship together as a familiy.
Prayer of Invocation
O Almighty God, who by the birth of your holy child Jesus has given us a great light to dawn upon our darkness: Grant, we pray, that in this light, we may see light. Bestow upon us, we beseech you, that most excellent Christmas gift of charity to all, so that the likeness of your Son may be formed in us, and that we may have the ever brightening hope of everlasting life, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Old Testament Reading
Psalm 97
New Testament Reading
John 1.1-14
Meditation
What words from these scriptures stand out to you today?
Why does the birth of Christ have continued significance today, in 2016?
What is one thing I can do today to show my love for Jesus?
Hymn: O Come All Ye Faithful
Offering
We have received many gifts today. As followers of Jesus, we commend our gifts to God for God's use. Let us reflect on how we might use some of our gifts, both physical and spiritual, to give God glory and honor this day and every day.
Hymn: Joy to the World
Benediction:
So go now, and "Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth; break forth into joyous song and sing praises. Sing praises to the Lord with the lyre, with the lyre and the sound of melody. With trumpets and the sound of the horn, make a joyful noise before the King, the Lord." (Psalm 98)
And may the Lord bless you and keep you, may the Lord's face shine upon you and be gracious to you, may the Lord's countenance lift up toward you and give you peace, now and forever. Amen.
I'm sure I'm not the only one who sort of secretly wishes we could gather around the family piano and look like this so-called perfect family on Christmas morning. Reality is more like this:
And I kind of am grateful for that. Maybe this year, you get out the carol books and give it a 15 minute try. Whether you sound like bleating goats or the von Trapp family, or whether you end with tears of joy or tears of laughter or even tears from argument, Psalm 98 today calls us to make a joyful noise to the Lord, and if we are trying, that's all the counts.
#4: For those of us who ain't so merry
While Christmas is a time for joy, peace, love, and hope, it also represents a time of challenge, mourning, and grief for many of us. Last night marks the longest night, and with today the winter solstice, comes longer days and more sunshine, something for which we all desperately yearn. Perhaps the holidays are markers of those who are no longer with us or family rifts that seem to never be solved. Perhaps we are alone this year or we have to work or worse, we have to work in retail. Perhaps a loved one is sick or in the hospital. When the dark of night seems to overwhelm us, the bright light of Jesus on Christmas morning can feel too bright, too joyful, too cheerful, and we feel guilt and pressure for feeling as glum as we do. Christmas Eve is always bittersweet for me, as the funeral for my Sunday School teacher, Mrs. Schwartz was on Christmas Eve. I miss her every day, and though I know she has joined the Church Triumphant, I would give anything for her advice, her smile, and her warm presence.
Here's a prayer for some sad times:
Mighty God,
You rise with healing in your wings,
to scatter all enemies that assault us.
As we wait in hope for the coming of that day,
when crying and pain shall be no more,
help us by your Holy Spirit
to receive your power into our lives
and to trust in your eternal love,
through Jesus Christ our Savior,
God with us, Emmanuel,
Light of the world, born this very day.
Amen.
#3: Not-so-Childish prayer for the family
I have confidence that teenagers will find all of these prayers incredibly boring and just absolutely childish and totally unnecessary. To parents, I say, this is totally normal and you shouldn't feel sad or guilty or worried. Even the most faithful of kids is learning to be themselves by disagreeing with mom and dad. From time to time, teenagers even agree with what you're saying but will argue with you just to prove that their opinions didn't come from you. Don't worry, don't give up, don't feel alone. This is all extremely normal.
That said, here's a prayer that probably won't be any MORE interesting for your youth, but has words that they might secretly muse over or think about if you put this on their radar. We plant seeds and trust that God's Holy Spirit is watering them over time.
Lord God,
Today, may we not only unwrap presents,
But may we discover more of your love.
Today, may we not only eat of festive food,
but may we feast on your faith.
Today, may we not only cherish happy times with family and friends,
But may we invite you into our lives.
Today, may we not only sing carols that celebrate your birth,
But may we dwell upon the resurrected Christ, alive in this moment.
Living Lord, we long to discover your love, to feast on your truth, to invite you into our lives, and to thank you for your sacrifice. Amidst the family, food, and presents, we long to celebrate Christmas with you.
There's this commercial for Publix that was on last year and I've seen again this year, where the little boy invites his dear elderly neighbor to Christmas dinner, and the mom is just so touched (You can fill in the blank: "Oh my son, what a wonderful boy! What a surprise! I'm beaming with pride!").
Let's be perfectly honest, I blubber like a babbling brook every time I watch this commercial. Let's be even more honest, sometimes I watch it again online so I can blubber even more.
There's an element to this commercial that reminds us of the charity and gift-giving that is associated with Christmas. We know the Salvation Army buckets and Mr. Scrooge buying the prize turkey and even the kind act of leaving a cookie for a tired Mr. Santa Claus as he delivers gifts. I think we put a lot of pressure on ourselves for our charity to be magnanimous, for our generosity to be enough to inspire Mrs. Lindsay to cry, for our gift giving to be inspirational, selfless and meaningful. I think we are putting too much pressure on ourselves. Jesus gives the ultimate gift of God in flesh appearing...in the most simple, humble way possible: by being born as a vulnerable, helpless child in a dirty stable in the middle of Nowheresville. All of our small acts of kindness and generosity contribute to the spirit of Christmas. Perhaps as a family, there might be a time to list the acts we've done or that have been done for us. And let's be honest, Mrs. Lindsay will cry at all of them anyway, so goal achieved.
#1: Being Present, being you
Sometimes I can lose myself in Christmas. There are 100 presents to buy, 600 cookies to bake, 5 {feels like million} rooms and toilets to clean, relatives to see, miles to travel, Christmas specials to see, people to greet...the list goes on and on. It's not uncommon to find ourselves at the end of Christmas Day cleaning the dishes and tossing the last of the wrapping paper feeling a bit like we've missed it, sensing that the day spun past us in a whirlwind of chaos.
The easiest thing we can do to prepare our hearts to celebrate the coming of the Christ child on Christmas Day is to commit to ourselves that we will be present, we will be ourselves, and we will treasure the gift of holidays with family and friends. Here's a prayer for you:
Almighty God, you got this.
Teach me not to worry about the small things,
but to seek the things that matter.
Empower me not to dwell on imperfections,
but to linger in memories of joy.
Forgive me of my wayward mind and frantic spirit,
and give me peace and serenity this holiday season.
Focus my soul on your love, your peace,
your hope, and your joy this Christmas and every day.
Amen.
A very Merry Christmas to you and your family, from this crazy Rev. May you know and experience the love and peace of Christ this year and feel connected to the communion of saints who join their voices over every time and place to give glory and honor to Almighty God.
