Fearfully and Wonderfully Made, Rev. Jack O'Dell

Rev. Jack O’Dell

There was research done by some scientists years ago about the affect that waiting had for people who waited for elevators in the skyscrapers of New York City. I am always amazed at what some researchers can choose to research. Did the researchers get in an elevator filled with great anxiety and decide that something has to be done about this? Or was the research the result of the researcher’s own anxiety or maybe their spouse? Go figure.

Anyway, researchers concluded that if the areas outside the elevators where people waited and the elevators themselves were filled with mirrors, anxiety went down. A certain percentage of people even missed their ride or getting off the ride as a result of mirrors being present.

For some, mirrors are hard to look at. They show every wrinkle, every roll, every imperfection of the present. As one looks in the mirror, one is also remembering the past—what one used to look like, the scar from that accident—even the dream of what one had wised to become.

Did God fear that we would not see how wonderful we are? I know it is a strange question. I seem to have a knack for asking the weirdest things. As God created each one of us in our own uniqueness, could it be that God knew all to well the anxiety that we would give to ourselves in spite of the wonder that God fixed in each one of us? And does the Psalmist know that the only way in which our fears and failures could be removed from us is by the most intimate inspection of the loving God? It seems that the prescription that the Psalm gives to us is to be known by God—every crevice, scar, burden, joy—known and healed by loving acceptance.

I confess that many times in my ordinary it is hard to love me and see the extraordinary. I tend to see all my faults. I see all the scars and imperfections of my body. I know what is in my mind which is not godly at all. The world helps me make a list of all the reasons I am unlovable and unacceptable.

But then I hear the gentle voice of God as if it is a soothing voice of a loving parent. And it tells me the wonder that has been created in me—that is uniquely mine. And my own fears of who I am are met with the love of God. And then, only then, do I comprehend loving others as I love myself.

Maybe during this time, the mirror is the gateway to a deeper love God is offering us.

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made, Rev. Jack O’Dell

Rev. Jack O’Dell

There was research done by some scientists years ago about the affect that waiting had for people who waited for elevators in the skyscrapers of New York City. I am always amazed at what some researchers can choose to research. Did the researchers get in an elevator filled with great anxiety and decide that something has to be done about this? Or was the research the result of the researcher’s own anxiety or maybe their spouse? Go figure.

Anyway, researchers concluded that if the areas outside the elevators where people waited and the elevators themselves were filled with mirrors, anxiety went down. A certain percentage of people even missed their ride or getting off the ride as a result of mirrors being present.

For some, mirrors are hard to look at. They show every wrinkle, every roll, every imperfection of the present. As one looks in the mirror, one is also remembering the past—what one used to look like, the scar from that accident—even the dream of what one had wised to become.

Did God fear that we would not see how wonderful we are? I know it is a strange question. I seem to have a knack for asking the weirdest things. As God created each one of us in our own uniqueness, could it be that God knew all to well the anxiety that we would give to ourselves in spite of the wonder that God fixed in each one of us? And does the Psalmist know that the only way in which our fears and failures could be removed from us is by the most intimate inspection of the loving God? It seems that the prescription that the Psalm gives to us is to be known by God—every crevice, scar, burden, joy—known and healed by loving acceptance.

I confess that many times in my ordinary it is hard to love me and see the extraordinary. I tend to see all my faults. I see all the scars and imperfections of my body. I know what is in my mind which is not godly at all. The world helps me make a list of all the reasons I am unlovable and unacceptable.

But then I hear the gentle voice of God as if it is a soothing voice of a loving parent. And it tells me the wonder that has been created in me—that is uniquely mine. And my own fears of who I am are met with the love of God. And then, only then, do I comprehend loving others as I love myself.

Maybe during this time, the mirror is the gateway to a deeper love God is offering us.

One Button, Rev. Dr. Elenora M. Cushenberry

Friday, March 18, 2011

ONE BUTTON

Rev. Dr. Elenora M. Cushenberry

How precious is your steadfast love, O God! All people may take refuge in the shadow of your wings. Psalm 36:7

“You ‘send’ to receive [the call] and ‘send’ to make a call,” Mama. These were the words of my exasperated daughter a few years ago as I had just hung up on her again. Why in the world would you use the same button to both make a call and receive a call was beyond me.

Sometimes, we may feel this way about God—which button do I press. Do I press, “The I am in need now button” or “The hurry up button” or even “The stop button”?

One Button. In a world filled with many buttons—many options—with God, there is only “one button”. One button that summons love and mercy, grace and compassion—all intertwined like the threads of a rope, which cannot be undone without undoing the rope itself. This is God, full of mercy, full of love, full of grace. After my daughter’s instruction on CellPhone Usage 101, I was able to both make and receive calls. The simplicity of the “one button” began to make sense. The simplicity of our relationship with God also makes sense that the God we love and serve seeks to be in a loving relationship with us.

One of the lessons of this Lenten season might not be on what we can give up but on what we can take in—the simplicity of God’s love for us and for others. This God who loves us so much that nothing was too much for God to do for us—even to become fully human and be obedient to death on a cross.

And, what or where is this one button? The Name of Jesus.
On that day you will ask in my name. I do not say to you that I will ask the Father on your behalf; for the Father himself loves you, because you have loved me and have believed that I came from God. (John 16:26-27)

 

Albert Mohler and Hell, I Mean, Bell (as in Rob)

It’s safe to say that Rob Bell’s recent book, “Love Wins,” is causing quite a war of words.  R. Albert Mohler has weighed in on the argument here: http://www.bpnews.net/BPFirstPerson.asp?ID=34847.  Here’s my response to Mohler’s reading of Bell’s Book.  I will say, I wrote it quickly because my computer battery was about to die.  I hope to write more later.  Nevertheless, here it is:

             “For Mohler, there must be an enemy, evidenced by his reading of Bell’s book and his penchant for insisting of a dichotomy of salvation. I am a universalist by hope, meaning that Christ’s suffering, death, and resurrection was a cosmic event in which God reconciled all things. Through God’s Justifying Grace in Christ’s meritorious work, all creation has its foundation in the heart of God.
                 I think Bell says this well, albeit exegetical footnotes would have helped his argument. CS Lewis said something to the effect of, “The devil presents us with a false dichotomy so that we feel forced into choosing the lesser of two evils.” I feel Mohler’s unsympathetic reading of “Love Wins” is a result of this dichotomy. Mohler seems to suggest that it is human choice, and not God’s grace, which lies at the heart of salvation. I pray that it is not up to me to decide to which era I belong. Sin is powerful, powerful enough to render me unable to choose the good, at least, that’s what Paul says. I pray that God’s grace is the heart of salvation, and that through God’s love, all that is within me which is contrary to God’s love, whether it is within my soul by choice or ignorance or omission, is burned away and refined so that I may be filled with the abundant promise of God.  I am not so bold to say I am “in,” but it is my hope that God knows how to love me better than I.
                Mohler’s distaste for liberals is unfortunate, and his reading of Bell’s book I think is unfair. Thanks for taking the time to read my thoughts. May you be blessed with the peace of Christ during this holy time of preparation. Blessings to you.”

You can read my comments on the Faith and Leadership Blog from Duke Divinity School: http://www.faithandleadership.com/blog/03-17-2011/thursdays-news-ideas

God-With-Us, Rev. Ellen Alston

Thursday, March 17, 2011

God-With-Us

Rev. Ellen Alston

Lent had scarcely begun when our world was rocked by the news of the earthquake and tsunami that have devastated our brothers and sisters in Japan, and the unfolding aftershock events just keep coming in waves. These 40 days of discipline and discovery seem barely a blip in time compared to the tenacity it will take for all affected to find their footing and be well on the road to recovery. I find myself taking less for granted the generous gifts of waking and breath, of a place to sit and rest and eat and be warmed, of relationship and community. My heart aches for those who have lost loved ones, or who do not even know how or where or when their loved ones may be found. In such a time, it is easy to ask, “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me/us/them?”

I often recall and return for refuge to the words that emerged on billboards and newspaper ads in the days after 9/11/2001 (thanks to Igniting Ministry’s media messages!), nearly a decade ago: “Fear is not the only force at work in the world today.”

During the bombing raids of WWII, thousands of children were orphaned and left to starve. The fortunate ones were rescued and placed in refugee camps where they received food and good care. But many of these children who had lost so much could not sleep at night. They feared waking up to find themselves once again homeless and without food. Nothing seemed to reassure them. Finally, someone hit upon the idea of giving each child a piece of bread to hold at bedtime. Holding their bread, these children could finally sleep in peace. All through the night the bread reminded them, “Today I ate and I will eat again tomorrow.” (Linn, Dennis et al, Sleeping With Bread, p.l)

This introduction to a book about a spiritual practice called “The Examen” reminds us of the power of holding, or reconnecting, with what gives us life. The basic framework of the examen is to ask at the end of each day “What gave me life and joy today?” and “What brought me grief and pain today?” By lifting up in prayer each of these experiences, perhaps the outer edges of what we can see, we are walking with God around the perimeter of the life we know, which puts us in a place to see further beyond into what God is really about in our lives and in our world.

In the presence of “strangers” whom we welcome or who extend their hands to us, in the rhythm of footsteps that join us along the way, in the blessed-ness of all that sustains us, in care given or received in time of need, in the eyes of those who share with us the meal and the journey, may we glimpse – and learn – and even experience – something more of the Jesus who is made known to us in the breaking of the bread.

 

Who is Waiting at the Station, Rev. Wayne Evans

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Rev. Wayne Evans

I have trouble believing God loves me like that: waiting hour after hour, day after day for me to come to my senses, and return “home.” Too often I have preferred the “far country” of being critical of others. I have looked for who is at fault rather than to come home to the party that our Heavenly Father is offering.
I have all kinds of reasons for failing to show love to others. I rationalize that I am being helpful by pointing out someone else’s faults. I tell myself they would do better if only someone could show them the error of their ways.
But the result is others don’t see love when we criticize them. In Luke 15 both the elder brother and the prodigal son missed out on the bounty of their waiting father until they were willing to accept his grace. If only I would swallow my pride, and believe I am accepted by this forgiving, gracious Father.
God is waiting at the train station. Maybe today, I’ll get off the train and fall into his loving embrace by hugging my sisters and brothers who almost as imperfect as me.

What Are We Here For? Rev. Juan Huertas

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Rev. Juan Huertas

It is so easy to get distracted living our lives. Our responsibilities are many work, school, children, housework, the list could be endless. We could easily begin to believe that those responsibilities, those roles that we play, are the reason why we exist.

Then there is church. Morning worship, Sunday school, mid-week activities, committee meetings, all of these activities could easily become our reasons for existing, our reason for being Christian. If we are honest we ourselves, many of us confuse those things with discipleship.

Lent provides us with time for a corrective. These forty days of walking with Jesus, forty days of practicing the means of grace, forty days of being attentive to what God is up to in us and in the world, provide the perfect setting to again answer the question: What are we here for?

In today’s reading Scott McKnight, takes us to the first chapter of Genesis where the story of our faith tells us that all of humanity was created in God’s image, in God’s own likeness. He tells us that the Greek word for image used here is “eikon” and then calls us to be eikons in the world. To be an eikon is to “be given he capacity to enter into . . . the mutual indwelling of love of the three persons of the Trinity and to learn to love.” (30) So, according to McKnight, humanity’s purpose is love, that is the reason why we are here!

Ash Wednesday reminded us that even though we were created to love we have failed in living this love out in the world. McKnight calls this being “cracked eikons.” This brokenness shows itself in distorted love towards God, other, self, and creation. Thankfully Ash Wednesday also reminded us that through Christ our image could be repaired and because of that we are capable of loving like an eikon would.

The world needs people of faith to be eikons in the world. May this season of Lent prepare us, restore us, and send us into the world to reflect love to God, other, self, and creation. When we do this, when we live out the image of God in the world, we are able to help others answer the question, What are we here for?

No to Bread, but Yes to Bread–Matthew 4:1-11, Lent 1 A

                                Each year during the season of Lent, as we begin our journey to the cross and the empty tomb, we begin in the wilderness with Jesus and the devil.  So for a few moments let us walk through our text this morning, taking time to meditate on each verse.

–Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil.

            Throughout Matthew’s Gospel, our narrator goes to great lengths to show that Jesus is a new Moses, the one who fulfills the mountain top law with his own person on the cross.  You have heard it said, but I say to you, we read several weeks ago.  You have heard it said that the law was written on stone tablets, but I say unto you that the law is to be written upon your hearts as it is I who opens your heart through suffering, death, and resurrection.  The wilderness into which the Spirit leads Jesus reminds us of Israel and their 40 years wandering and being refined into the chose people of God.  The wilderness is where Israel discerned the question, “Is the Lord with us or not,” which was answered with the affirmation of crossing into the promised land.  Jesus is lead into the wilderness to meditate on his mission to, for, and with both the chosen people of Israel and those who have been outcast by an ill interpreted Law, and Jesus meditates in the presence of the devil.

            I don’t normally preach on the devil because I fear I would make the devil sound more interesting than God; however it is an unavoidable truth in our text today.  The person of the devil has its roots in the old testament person named Satan, or in Hebrew, Hasatan, the Accuser.  The devil is evil personified, which places our understanding of the devil in a bit of a paradox.  Evil is a shadow, which cannot stand on its own.  A shadow is nothing in and of itself.  It only exists when something blocks light.  Theologically speaking, evil is made manifest when someone or something stands between us and the light of God shining through Christ.  As John says in his prologue, “In him was life and the life was light, and the light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.”  One way to look at evil is with the number -2.  It is impossible to have -2 of something.  I can’t hold it in my hand.  I can’t put it in a box because -2 doesn’t exist, at least, it only exists as an absence.  You can have 2 less than something, but you can never have -2 in and of itself.  The devil, being a manifestation of nothingness, places him in a paradox.  Stanley Hauerwas writes, “Our sin drives us mad because our very ability to revolt against our creator is dependent on the gifts we have been given by him.  That is why the devil is at once crafty but self-destructively mad, for the devil cannot help but be angry, recognizing as he must that he does not exist.”  In other words, the devil is the manifestation of nothingness, which drives him mad because he cannot exist within the Grace of God.  The devil is a shadow.  Shadows are real, but they are only seen when we block the light.  So, when we surround ourselves with the light of the resurrection, in essence, the devil does not exist.

            After fasting for 40 days, again reminding us of the Israelites journey in the wilderness, the tempter said, “If you are the Son of God, transform these stones into bread.”  Can you imagine the good we could do if we could transform rocks into loafs of bread.  We could end world hunger.  The shelves would always be stocked, that is, until the ground under our feet gives way and we are left with nowhere to stand.  Jesus replies, “Humanity does not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.”  In others words, we need bread, and God provides bread, but even bread is failing if it is set apart from the eternity which lies in the heart of God.  It strikes at the heart of our own sin, when we give up the eternal, the good of the kingdom, in order to fight for self preservation, security, and personal happiness.  Jesus says no to the devil’s request, but Jesus does not reject bread.  Later Jesus looks upon the multitudes and takes a few loaves of bread and feeds thousands.  Even this miracle points to holy because it is Jesus who later says, “I am the bread of life.”  It is Jesus who takes common bread, blesses it and says, “This is my body given for you, eat it in remembrance of me.”  Bread is not made of stones.  It is the body of Christ given to us so that we might receive the grace of God, the grace which surrounds us with the light of the resurrection, burning away the darkness with which the world surrounds us.

            Then the devil took him to the holy city and set him on the pinnacle of the temple saying, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down; for it is written, ‘He will give his angels charge of you, and on their hands they will bear you up let you dash your foot against a stone.”  The devil is crafty.  He now uses scripture to tempt Jesus, which shows us the danger of using scripture to support our ideas and ideology, rather than allowing scripture to shape our politics.  In other words, this temptation calls attention to our sin when we use scripture to support our conviction rather than allowing scripture to give birth to conviction.  Jesus rejects the devil’s suggestion saying, “You shall not tempt the Lord your God.”  Jesus says no to leaping from the pinnacle of the Temple, rather, like with bread, Jesus is the Temple.  Jesus says that the temple will be destroyed and will be rebuilt in three days time.  The Temple is the place where God resides, and Jesus walks the earth to show us that he is the incarnation, the place where God rests.  The good news is that Jesus rejects the accuser and takes on the brick and mortar in his own body, which was beaten and crucified and was risen, so that we too might reside with God for eterntiy.

            The devil, running out of options, then takes Jesus to a high mountain and promises to give him the kingdoms of the world.  This unveils our temptation for earthly power.  Jesus rejects the devil saying, “You shall worship the Lord your God and him only shall you serve.”  Jesus talks about, not kingdoms, but the Kingdom, the place where the last shall be first, a kingdom as a treasure in a field, a kingdom as precious as a pearl, a kingdom which bursts from the tomb, again, shining in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.

            Then the light was too bright, and the devil left him.

            This time during Lent is a time when we take time to investigate our sin.  See, the problem with sin is that it’s half right.  Sin can be understood as a perversion of God’s first commandment, to be fruitful and multiply.  Sin is half right.  It’s great at multiplying, but it is never fruitful.  Making bread out of stones is half right.  It ends hunger, but there’s more to life than a full stomach.  We may not dash our foot against a stone when we leap from the Temple, but when we hurl ourselves away from the Temple, the place where God rests, we leap away from the source of life itself.  Having influence and power in the world can bring about remarkable things, but when we strive after power for our own benefit, we begin to tell God that we don’t need him or the grace he provides.  Like Adam and Eve who ate of the fruit so that they might be like God.  What goal is more lofty?  The problem is we are not to be God, rather we are to live lives of dependency on God, the only one who is good, eternal, full of grace and mercy.

            We are to be more than admirers of Christ.  The crowd admired Jesus.  They followed him and were cured and were fed and were amazed at his signs and wonders, but at the end of the day, it was the crowd which shouted, “Crucify him.”  We are to be more than admirers.  Let us be children of God.  Let us walk through this wilderness feeding not on stones, but on the bread of life which drives away the darkness.  During this season of Lent, may you walk with God, through Christ, in the power of the Spirit, daily communing with God allowing God to bathe you with light on the way which leads to life.  May you be filled with the strength, compassion, and grace of God, so that your eyes may be affixed to the victory of Christ’s triumph over death.  Do not be tempted with nothingness.  When the shadow of this world covers you, feed on the bread of life, rest in the place where God resides, fill yourself with humility and servanthood, so that you experience the life God has prepared for you, now and for all time.  Amen.

Dancing with God, Rev. Matt Rawle

Monday, March 14, 2011

Dancing with God

Rev. Matt Rawle

One of the blessings of being a father of toddlers is the beauty of uninhibited dancing. When the drums start beating, my daughter Annaleigh picks up the rhythm and shakes, well, whatever her little two-year-old body will allow. It seems to come naturally for her, and for most toddlers. There’s something about music which captures us deep within our souls, causing our heads to sway and feet to tap, and if the music’s really good, I might just close my eyes, jut out my jaw, and bite my bottom lip in an awkward, seemingly painful expression.

Have you ever watched a sermon in fast forward? For those who meander about the pulpit, it looks like the preacher is a dance instructor, leading the congregation is a Gospel dance. Isn’t this true when we gather for worship? The Trinity—The Father, The Son, and The Holy Spirit, has been described as “The Lover, The Beloved, and the Love that they share” (Saint Augustine). Worship is the gathered body of Christ offering adoration to the Father and the Father offering blessing to the body of Christ. So, in a way, Worship is an outward and visible sign of The Trinity, the way in which God “dances” with The Son in shared spiritual adoration.
Scott McKnight writes, “I do marvel at how well some people can dance. Their entire bodies seem to be overwhelmed by the music and the beat and the meaning of the words. Somehow the body moves in such a way that the music begins to take on bodily form. We might say that the dance incarnates the music, just as the Son incarnates the dance of the Trinity” (27). As you continue your Lenten journey toward the cross, open yourself up to the holy dance shared in adoration between God and God’s people. At least, it’s something I’ve learned from my two-year-old, and didn’t Jesus say something about entering the kingdom as a child? I wonder if this is what he meant. Blessings and peace to you in the name of Jesus Christ, our Lord.

Authentic and Imperfect Encounters with God, Rev. Valarie Robideaux

Rev. Valerie Robideaux

“Everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love.” 1 John 4:7b-8

We like to figure people out. We are comfortable with placing a person into a personality box, sealing it shut and labeling it for a quick and easy reference. “Oh, you know she is an introvert, so she probably would not like to come to dinner with us.” Personality tests galore illumine our instincts, motivations, and innate preferences. They are insightful tools for self-awareness, conflict resolution, and relationship compatibilities. However, they can also be used as a sword, a weapon to jab the person who tries to venture outside their box eliminating any real possibility for growth or transformation. Does our typecasting get in the way of someone’s ability to encounter God?

This passage from 1 John incorporates both knowing and loving. We like to pinpoint if we are thinkers or feelers, head people or heart people. 1 John reminds us that these are intrinsically linked in our encounter of God.

We do not feel worthy to encounter God. We are too broken. We are not full people, for we have been placed into a particular personality box and are not allowed to venture out. “I must find balance before I can know God.” “I must work on my weaknesses before I can fully encounter God.” “I must seek solitude before I can know God.” “I must get my life together before I can know God.” “I must deal with my emotional baggage before I can know God.” “I must read the entire Bible before I can know God.” Perfectionism can be paralyzing. When we are not able to do something perfectly, we often times simply do nothing.

God does not call us to perfection before we encounter God. God calls us to perfection when we have encountered God. We must venture outside our neatly labeled boxes to get to know God. Grace invites us to drag our boxes to God’s feet, to stand before God in our brokenness, justifications, excuses, and quirks. Thinker or feeler, head person or heart person, introvert or extravert, our human efforts to perfect ourselves are fruitless pursuits. Only in our authentic and humbling encounters with God will we know love. And, only in our authentic and humbling encounters with God will we experience the grace that calls and sustains us to draw nearer and nearer to perfection in that love.

What are the labels on your personality box? Do these labels inhibit or empower you?

What labels have you placed on someone else’s personality box? Do these labels inhibit or empower that person?

How has perfectionism paralyzed you from encountering God?

What would it mean for you to authentically and humbly encounter God?