Category: Christianity

Christianity

Truth: No Going Back.

by ShethChristianity / Church / Lectionary / Sermon / Truth TuesdayLeave a Comment on Truth: No Going Back.

Eighth Sunday After Epiphany: Transfiguration Sunday

There’s a danger in seeking to return to ‘normal’ – to those days and things we were so accustomed to pre-COVID. We long for those times when we didn’t worry about masking and public healthcare, about vaccines and business-rights, about being together in work and worship. Now, all of these things weigh heavily on our minds in one way or another because we so enjoyed the way things were.

On this side of it, pre-COVID life feels so footloose and fancy-free, a time when we could do anything with anyone, never having a care in the world. We want to go back to that – to that normalcy, to that which we knew best, to that which comforted us and calmed us. We want to go back to the moments we knew best. We want to go back because it’s in those times and spaces when and where we felt most pleased, most satisfied, most contented.

But the danger in going back – the danger of not moving forward – is stagnation. When waters cease moving malaria and dengue persist, bacteria and parasites flourish. When economies see little or no growth, unemployment rises and sales fall, wages flounder and worker satisfaction dips. When we are no longer willing to ensure future generations succeed, when we fail to guide our children through life, when we ignore mentoring and volunteering opportunities we fall into stagnation – we feel disconnected and uninvolved with the world around us. The danger of stagnation, of going back, of not moving forward is sickness, insecurity, selfishness, separation and death. Returning to ‘normal’…going back…not moving forward is not an option for the living.

In the gospel of Luke we read about the Transfiguration of Jesus – an event spoken of in each of the synoptic gospels (Matt. 17:1-8; Mk. 9:2-8; Lk. 9:28-36). Jesus takes the closest apostles – Peter, James and John – and they head off into the mountains to pray. There on the hilltop Jesus experiences the transfiguration; Luke says, “the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white.” As great as this is, it gets even better: “Suddenly, they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him (Jesus).” The apostles are in full fanboy mode now, because Moses and Elijah are the prophets, they’re the fathers of the faith, ancient men suddenly present in the apostle’s midst.

Augustin Kolawole Olayinka – The Transfiguration

It’s a moment that Peter desires to be frozen in time – it’s a moment he wishes to remain in forever – and he proposes to Jesus that it should be so: “Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, one for Elijah” (emphasis mine). Peter wants to push the pause button on life to hang out with these great men of his faith – a completely understandable desire. He wants to hold on to this moment – so much so that he doesn’t even care if he sleeps in the open – as long as he doesn’t have to move forward, as long as he doesn’t have to return to his ‘normal’ life.

Remaining on the mountaintop with Jesus, Moses and Elijah, though, would mean stagnation for Peter, James and John. What good would it do them to be in the presence of these prophets but have no one to tell? The apostles could certainly gain oodles of wisdom and understanding, but if it’s not shared with others that knowledge stagnates and becomes worthless. What good is good news if it’s not told to others? Peter’s request is understandable – we get wanting to not move forward…we get wanting to go back – but going there is sure and certain death.

There are moments I long for, moments that I wish I could return to: the last time I visited my grandma in the nursing home and held her frail hand; to the moment I selfishly chose to walk away from a dear friendship; to the moment in seminary when I felt most accepted and loved for who I was. I want to return to these moments because they were precious to me, and I want to hold on that…because they were hurtful to me (and others) and I want to repair that…because they were life-giving, life-bearing, life-resurrecting and I need that right now. But those moments are long-gone, and going back to them to remain in them would leave me in the past, in what was, in the things that are long-since dead. I have to move forward, I have to press on because going back would be my own sure and certain death.

We have to move forward, we must move forward because what was can’t be what is, and what is can’t be what will be. The danger lies in staying put, in holding on, in striving to maintain this for all of time. My marriage will die if I try to maintain what is and not pursue what it will be. My self will be a lie if I go back to being the person I was in 2003. My relationship with God will become void of life if I try to keep it the way it is right now without any hope and vision for what it will be.

The Church will die if it tries to go back to ‘normal’ – to those pre-COVID days that we knew so well, that we worshiped in so well, that we were comfortable with, never thinking about accessibility, health care, and connection. Our local church will die if we hang on to what was, to what we were so fond of, to what was best for us in our time way back when. Blacks and Asians, Indigenous and Migrants will continue to face racism, oppression, hatred and death if we go back to what was…if we stay in what is. The unhoused and migrant populations will continue to go unnoticed and abused if we go back to what was…if we stay in what is. The danger in not moving forward is stagnation, and stagnation is sure and certain death.

The manna we are fed is meant for today…we can’t save it, we can’t go back to it. Yesterday’s provision is rotten and moldy and will certainly kill us. The encounters we have with God on these mountaintops are meant for today…we can’t stay here forever, we can’t go back to them. The God we serve is not the God of stagnation and death, but the God of the moving and living.

We are meant for the now and the not yet – we are meant to live, to move, to grow and flourish. We are called to life and hope, to free the oppressed, to lift up the suppressed, to give mercy to those whom we have power over, to love our neighbors – to love our enemies(!). We are called to correct injustice, to care for creation, for widows, for orphans. We are called to life – to life abundant. There is no turning back.

Have you decided?
There is no turning back.
Though none go with you, will you go forward?
With the world behind you, and the cross before you, will you go forward?
There is no turning back – no turning back!
Don’t let death win – have you decided to not turn back?
Life is there, ahead of us, in abundance. Have you decided?
What a world it will be when we declare that there is no turning back!

much love. sheth.

Truth: Love in the Waves of Violence

by ShethChristianity / Lectionary / Love / Non-Violence / RelationshipsLeave a Comment on Truth: Love in the Waves of Violence

(Heads up – this post deals with intimate partner violence and abuse/abusers/victims. Also, my partner has agreed to let me post this and she’s read it ahead of time)

My partner recently wrote a piece about trauma stewardship and how she has been handling her own history of trauma brought to the forefront of her soul by the intimate partner violence heard through our apartment walls. She’s been diligent in confronting the emotions and feelings and I’m so grateful that she’s working with her therapist to both understand and manage them.

But some days are still difficult for her and random actions, sounds, and images can – in a moment – flip the trauma switch for her. She wrote in her post: “…in the midst of remembering my trauma I was journaling and wrote, “I hate that he still has control over me.”” In spite of her very best efforts and countless hours of therapy, this man is still able to haunt her and control her actions, thoughts, and feelings. Though years and miles apart, he still enacts violence on her. It hurts her to know and live this reality and it hurts me to witness her actions and reactions to the ghosts of his violence.

If I’m honest though, it more than hurts me – it angers me. It angers me that his abuse affects our relationship. It angers me that his violence affects our physical contact. It angers me that he has a voice in our relationship, that he controls the direction of our relationship, that he lingers in the corners of our relationship. It angers me that his misguided, mismanaged anger angers me.

The lectionary gospel passage from Luke has Jesus continuing his Sermon on the Plain, focusing this week on loving one’s enemies, doing good to those who hate, blessing those who curse, and praying for those who abuse. It’s a stretch to say that even the kindest and gentlest people find difficulties following Christ’s call in this passage, let alone someone who has directly experienced pain and violence at the hands of others. As I read my Lord’s words I’m confronted with the steep mountain of Christ-likeness I’m called to climb.

While I know that I’m called to scale this mountain and live out forgiveness, redemption, and reconciliation with my enemies – in this case the one who has abused my partner – I really don’t want to. I don’t want to love him or do good to/for him…I don’t want to bless him and pray for him. What I want to do is what he has done to my partner: I want to abuse him. I want to traumatize him. I want to make him suffer as much as he has made her suffer. And that, too, angers me because that’s not who I am called to be: I am not called to reaction, retaliation, and violence – I’m called to response-in-love, forgiveness, and healing; somehow, someway I’m called to both respond in love and flat-out love the one who hurt my partner.

That’s a difficult call to both hear and live into because it’s so counter-intuitive to the ways of the world that I so often witness around me. Violence is countered with violence…abusers are abused…murderers are murdered…an eye for an eye, right? And this call to respond in love is difficult to hear because it feels like I am accepting, allowing, and agreeing with/to his violence. But I don’t want to affirm his actions, I want to condemn them and ensure he never abuses another person. Can I somehow denounce and rebuke his violence – and the violence he’s caused – in a loving, Christ-like way? In the depths of trauma and ripples of violence can I live out Christ’s words found here in the gospel of Luke?

Perhaps I can begin to walk towards love for this man by first choosing to respond rather than react to the ripples of his violence. Perhaps I can love him best right now by resisting the swells of his violence that pervade my and my partner’s life through non-violent means:

  • by choosing to no longer accept the violence he imposed in my partner’s life nor accepting abuse in the lives of others around me. I choose to continue to stand with my partner in her trauma and refuse to accept any excuse for her ex’s behavior. I choose to stand with other victims of violence and listen to their stories
  • by choosing to no longer submit to the violence, instead standing against it in any of its forms, both in the life of my partner and in the lives of those around me. I will stand opposed to intimate partner violence and domestic abuse in all its forms and support organizations that provide safe housing for victims
  • by choosing to no longer seek or enact violence in retaliation or reaction to him or those who act violently towards my partner, myself, and those around me. I refuse to think of doing harm to this man. I refuse to allow violent ideations to control my response to this man. I refuse to allow him to take up space in my brain for violent reasons. Instead, I choose to deny violence in all its forms and remain committed to peace – even with my enemies

I can’t say that I’d be willing to seek him out and offer him a peace offering today, but I can offer him this: I choose to end your violence in my life. I choose my partner and I will walk with her, giving her access to tools to respond to the violence you created in healthy, life-giving ways. I choose to respond in love to your violence by not reacting violently. I choose to respond in love to your actions by doing to you what you couldn’t, by doing to you what you never knew, by doing to you what confuses you most. I choose to pray for you even if I can’t utter a word. I choose to love you even when I can’t. I choose to respond to you in love until you can do it for yourself and those around you.

And to my dearest partner, I choose to remain committed to you, even as the waves of trauma ebb and flow through your life. Never forget that I (and so many others) are right here with you as you navigate these waters. I pray that they will calm, they will lessen, they will fade away.

May we walk in mercy, love, and action all the days of our lives.

much love. sheth.

Truth: Beloved

by ShethChristianity / Life / Loneliness / Prayer / Truth TuesdayLeave a Comment on Truth: Beloved

“She stretched herself up on tiptoe, and peeped over the edge of the mushroom, and her eyes immediately met those of a large blue caterpillar, that was sitting on the top with its arms folded, quietly smoking a long hookah, and taking not the smallest notice of her or of anything else.

“The caterpillar and Alice looked at each other for some time in silence: at last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth, and addressed her in a languid, sleepy voice.

“Who are you?” said the Caterpillar.

“This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, “I-I hardly know, sir, just at present – at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.”[1]

 

 

“Who are you?” A question posed by the hookah-smoking Caterpillar to Alice, a girl lost in a topsy-turvy world who struggles to find an answer to the question. Her response to the Caterpillar – that she knew who she was – demands explanation, but all she can say is, “I can’t explain myself, I’m afraid, sir…because I’m not myself, you see.”[2]

As the COVID-19 pandemic took hold of the world in the late spring of 2020 I was living into my Christian vocation and working to fulfill all that I believed I was called to be in this world. In the span of three months I had graduated from seminary, married my partner, moved to a new state and started my career as the pastor of a small, rural church. I had defined the essential characteristics of what was most important to me: degree-holding, small-town-living, left-of-center husband, preacher, writer, and pastor.

Over the past year-and-a-half I’ve struggled with maintaining most of these characteristics because of the loneliness of the pandemic, because I was the new kid on the block, because I couldn’t find support, because a thriving marriage is hard work. Mostly, though, I’ve struggled with preserving these characteristics because they’re not entirely preservable: they shift and change, ebb and flow. And now, with most of these characteristics in shambles (my marriage is good, though!), I’m am standing in Alice’s shoes, finding difficulty in explaining myself because I, too, am not myself anymore.

I’ve spent the past month moving our belongings and setting up our apartment. I’ve been cooking and cleaning, tending to my partner’s needs and wants. I’ve been doing a lot of reading and reflecting on my life over the course of the pandemic, seeking to shed some burdens and tend to some wounds. I’ve been mourning the loss of all these characteristics that I have leaned on, trusted, and felt comfortable being. All these things have been parts of who I was and what I did but, as much as I trusted them to be, they were never essential to my innermost being, to the createdness of who I am. Now I, like Alice, am standing in a topsy-turvy world faced with the ‘who are you’ question and my response is absolutely similar to hers: I hardly know who I am.

Truthfully, the Caterpillar question has loomed over my head for most of my life, one that I have returned to year after year. Notebooks have been filled with my own words as I have tried to spell out who I am. Books and psychology journals have been read and digested as I’ve sought the right words to define who I am. Therapists have spent countless hours guiding me on my quest to understand who I am. In the end, though, I hardly know much more than when I started because at the end of reading all those books and writing in all those journals and attending all those therapy sessions I always come up with the same definition of who I am: beloved.

 

Beloved. It’s one of those words we know, but we don’t really know. Etymologically it’s a compound-like-verb of be+loved. Love, we know, is “a feeling of strong or constant affection for a person”[3] – here it would be like the love between a parent and child, between siblings, between close friends. The prefix be- is and Old English element meaning “about, around, on all sides”[4]; beloved means ‘to be surrounded by love and constant affection’. Encircled by love. Loved on all sides. No matter where one goes, as one who is beloved you cannot get away from the love. No matter what one does, as one who is beloved you cannot out-do the love.

My Creator’s love is a beloved-love. No matter what I do, no matter what I don’t do…no matter where I am or how I live, my Creator’s love never abandons me, never leaves me, never stops surrounding me on all sides. I am beloved by God. That’s who I am. My belovedness is the core of my existence, the reason for my living and being and doing. Without it I am not – I am nothing. Beloved is who I am and honestly, beloved is all that I am.

Despite my knowing that I am God’s beloved I struggle with accepting it. I struggle with trusting it. I struggle with living it. The books and journals and therapy sessions have all been a constant attempt to discover something more than my belovedness because it seems too simple. All of who I am is narrowed down to being beloved by God? Absurd. Preposterous. Unimaginable. Which is why I have continuously been seeking more. There has to be more, right?

In the absurdity and unimaginable is where we try to do and be so much more. We try to fill in self-perceived holes because being God’s beloved can hardly be enough. We seek money and fame, glory and prestige because to the world around us that is enough…that is who we are. We seek careers and promotions, job titles and jobs because that is enough…that is who we are. We plant our being in partnership, parenthood, friendship, and career because to the world that is who we are. To the world, being the beloved of God and resting in that belovedness is simply not enough.

But it is enough. Being God’s beloved is enough; in fact, it’s all there is. At the very core of who I am is my belovedness, is my being surrounded by the love of my Creator God. The very essence of who I am is God’s beloved. The reason for my living is because I’m God’s beloved. I love my partner and my parents, my siblings and my friends because I am God’s beloved and I express my love out of my belovedness.

And every good and pleasant and pleasing thing I do in my life is an expression of my belovedness. I seek my neighbor’s well-being – their welfare – because they, too, are God’s beloved. I care for all of creation because it, too, is God’s beloved. I seek the end of death in all forms because life is God’s beloved. I pursue mercy and justice for the oppressed and imprisoned because they are God’s beloved. I work to shelter those experiencing homelessness, to feed those experiencing foodlessness, to give drink to all who are thirsty because they are all God’s beloved. Alice and the Caterpillar, me and you and them – we are all surrounded by the love and affection of God – we are God’s beloved.

I’m living in a topsy-turvy world right now where nearly every worldly definition of who I am has been stripped away (again, marriage a-ok). I don’t know what I’m to do next, where I’m to live next, how I’m supposed to live out my vocation. I’m scared and worried, depressed and medicated. I’m looking at myself, questioning: “Who are you?”

Right now I don’t know much more than this:

Emmanuel, you love me.
I am your beloved.

And that is enough.
That is enough.
That is more than enough.

much love. sheth.

—–

[1] Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (New York: Books of Wonder, 1992), 57-60.
[2] Ibid, 60.
[3] Merriam-Webster.com Dictionary, s.v. “love,” accessed February 8, 2022, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/love
[4] Online Etymology Dictionary, s.v. “beloved” accessed February 8, 2022, https://www.etymonline.com/word/beloved

Fifth Sunday After the Epiphany – Luke 5:1-11

by ShethChristianity / Essay / Lectionary / LoveLeave a Comment on Fifth Sunday After the Epiphany – Luke 5:1-11

Jesus has been born, baptized, blessed, baited and began his ministry in Galilee by being rejected by his own townspeople, evading their assassination attempt as he “passed through the midst of them and went on his way” (Luke 4:30). Jesus delivers people from unclean spirits, heals the sick, and teaches in the synagogues – all work fulfilling the Isaiah reading that led to his Nazareth rejection (Isaiah 61:1-2; Luke 4:18-19). Jesus is doing the thing he’s been called to do and the infancy of his ministry has already ruffled many a feather.

Jesus winds up on the shores of the Sea of Galilee with crowds of people surrounding him – so great of a crowd that they were “pressing in on him to hear the word of God” (Luke 5:1). In an effort to alleviate the physical pressure (and perhaps to control the crowd), Jesus climbs into Simon Peter’s boat and requests that the fisherman and his partner row their new passenger out into the shallow waters just off shore. Perhaps out of fear of also being overrun by the crowd, perhaps sensing some power from this man Jesus, Simon does as he is asked and pushes the craft just off shore. The fresh lake waters lap against the side of the boat as birds float overhead and Jesus’ voice, teaching the crowd, rises above the disquiet seaside.

Simon has a literal front-row seat to the teaching, and he hears a message in stark contrast to the ones he’s heard so long from the rabbis in the synagogues. This man speaks good news to the poor and impoverished…this man cries for freedom for the captives…this man opens blinded eyes to Yahweh’s truths…this man claims freedom to the suffering oppressed. These are the words of the prophets of old, those chosen by God to speak for God. These are the words of the priests of old, those chosen by God to pray and sacrifice for the bond between God and creation. These are the words of the kings of old, those chosen by God to serve, protect, and defend God’s people. This man – this Jesus – is declaring the reign of God in the world! His words begin to seep into the deepest depths of Simon’s soul where they kindle the long-since extinguished flame held for Yahweh.

The proclamation comes to a close and Jesus turns to Simon, instructing him to move the boat into deeper waters where Simon and his partner should drop down their nets to catch fish. Simon snaps back to reality; he has believed Jesus’ words up to this moment but knows that fishing here and now will do nothing. He and his partners worked all night without pulling in a single fish…there’s nothing in these deep, overworked waters. But…but something moved him to begin rowing…if his soul could find a spark of hope, perhaps his nets could find a fish or two.

Simon and his partner get to work, letting down their nets into the Galilean waters until they reached the ends of their nets and immediately the side of the boat dipped towards the water. The men, confused, begin to bring in their nets but soon realize the enormity of the catch. They scramble to gain steady footing, using leverage to pull with all their might but their nets begin to give way under the weight of the catch. Holding tightly to their net they cry out to shore for their partners James and John to come to their aid. Simon and his partner – with Jesus at their side – wait, straining against the heavy haul of fish in their nets.

James and John in second boat hurries to Simon’s side where the small company of fishermen work together to bring in the catch – a bounty so great that both ships struggled to stay afloat under the weight of their haul. That fire that had kindled in Simon began to take hold in his soul and he felt equally blessed and troubled by the events that were taking place before him. While incredibly grateful and thankful for this gift from God, Simon’s sinfulness…his unworthiness… his shame struggled within him, bringing him to his knees before Jesus and the fisherman cried out, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!”

Jesus knelt down and looked Simon in the eyes and had compassion for him. For a long moment they looked at one another and Simon’s sinfulness became engulfed in the flames of hope and promise, belonging and belovedness; he met Jesus in his innermost being where the two embraced. At long last Jesus spoke words of assurance, “There is nothing more to fear. Nothing more. From now on you’ll be fishing for a greater catch, you’ll be fishing for people!” At these words Simon and company had no questions, no reservations whatsoever – they believed.

The men struggled and strained to bring their burdened boats to shore where they told the crowd to take as many fish as they wanted. The men hurriedly cleaned themselves up and abandoned everything they knew to follow Jesus.

—–

The beauty I find in this gospel story is found in Simon’s confession: “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” (Luke 5:8). I love these heartfelt words uttered by Simon because they encapsulate the meeting between humanity and God. When God comes near us we can’t bear to think of even imagining that the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer of all that was, is, and is-to-come would dare approach us. Why would God do such a thing? Why would God come near us when we’ve done everything in our power to dissolve and deny that relationship?

In Simon’s confession we see the incredulity of Jesus’ reaction in spite of Simon’s state of being: in spite of his sinfulness Jesus still gave Simon an overwhelming load of fish. How would Jesus dare do that for a sinner like Simon…like me…like you? How is it that in spite of all our sin, in spite of all our unbelief, in spite of our spitefulness Jesus still chooses to load down our nets with big catches?

And Simon expresses humanity’s reaction to God’s blessing: Go away from me! Don’t you see who I am? Don’t you see how sinful I am? I’m not worthy of your gifts! Each of us has a reason to express these same ‘go away’ words to Jesus. Our life’s history is riddled with moments of sinfulness that have made us feel like we’re unable to be in the very presence of God, let alone receive such a gift.

Our own life’s story might read like a ‘greatest hits’ record of sins but Jesus sees us just as he saw Simon Peter, and Jesus isn’t the least bit surprised because he knows us. Jesus knows our own relationship with Yahweh is much like that of Simon: darkened, cold, lightless and lifeless. Jesus knows our flames of life may have long-since burned out. But he doesn’t give up on us. He steps into our lives, calls us to work, gives us more than we deserve, and on top of all of that Jesus loves us even when we express unworthiness and unbelief.

In this fishing excursion at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry we witness the truth of the gospel: God loves us, God calls us, God blesses us, God invites us into repentance and restoration. God wants to be with us where we are. God wants to love us as we are and pushes us to do better and be better. Praise be that we are chosen, that we are loved, that we are blessed!

much love. sheth.

Honest Patriotism: Crippled by the Manacles of Segregation and the Chains of Discrimination

by ShethChristianity / Church / Life / Seminary / SermonLeave a Comment on Honest Patriotism: Crippled by the Manacles of Segregation and the Chains of Discrimination

Ephesians 4:1-6; 25-32 (NRSV)
“I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all.

So then, putting away falsehood, let all of us speak the truth to our neighbors, for we are members of one another. Be angry but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for the devil. Thieves must give up stealing; rather let them labor and work honestly with their own hands, so as to have something to share with the needy. Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with which you were marked with a seal for the day of redemption. Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you.“

[This is the text of the sermon delivered to First Presbyterian Church of Aurora, MO on July 4, 2021]
—–
The author of this morning’s passage to the church in Ephesus was writing to encourage them, to bolster their faith, and most importantly, to remind them of who they are: free people in service to God, called to live in the world and live out the kingdom experience for their neighbors. The author doesn’t suggest that the church in Ephesus live a good life – he begs them to live a life worthy of the people God has chosen to be God’s own; he begs them to live as a free people in God’s service. It’s language that’s pleasant to our ears, especially this morning.

We as Americans love our freedoms, don’t we? Our entire country is founded on the idea of freedom: on this date in 1776 our country’s forefathers met in Philadelphia, declared twenty-seven grievances against King George III, and summed up the entire document by saying “these united colonies are, and of right ought to be free and independent states; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British crown, and that all political connection between them and the state of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved.”[i] With the signing of the Declaration of Independence 245 years ago, we as the United States declared our independence and freedom from the monarchy. We set aside this date to commemorate and celebrate our freedom, to reflect on the sacrifices made to be free, and to educate ourselves and those around us about our freedom.

The Presbyterians who signed the Declaration, and those of us who continue in this vein of Christianity acknowledge that our faith and civic lives are inextricably linked to one another, therefore we are committed to active civic engagement, responsible citizenship, and prophetic witness, striving diligently to ensure that all parts of our lives are good, right, and honorable. And when things aren’t good, right, and honorable, it is our duty to make them so. It is our calling as Americans to ensure that these hopeful and hope-filled words are upheld and achieved across our lands: “that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”[ii]

While the contents of this sentence are aspirational, they are not altogether unachievable, and our nation has made considerable strides to ensure that more and more of our citizenry is able to live out these unalienable rights. President Lincoln’s issuance of the Emancipation Proclamation in 1863 and the ratification of the thirteenth amendment in 1865 both freed our slaves and abolished slavery while simultaneously taking our nation a step further to ensure that each person in our nation could pursue their unalienable rights of life, liberty, and happiness.

As Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. said, Lincoln’s decree “came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice.”[iii] With the Emancipation Proclamation, millions of our nation’s slaves hoped that they would be able to live out the dreams of our nation’s forefathers, for – according to those forefathers – our black brothers and sisters had every right that our white brothers and sisters had: “all men are created equal.”

In the shadows of the Lincoln memorial in 1963, Dr. King reminded our nation of a brutally honest truth: “…one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free; one hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination; one hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity; one hundred years later, the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself in exile in his own land.”[iv]

Dr. King’s often brutal honesty – not only in this speech, but in so many others – was not an outpouring of hatred felt toward oppressors but was instead the work of his faith seeking accountability for his patriotism; Dr. King was an honest patriot, a person who loved this country enough to remember its misdeeds[v] while also working to ensure that those misdeeds were not merely swept under the rug but were brought to the nation’s collective sight to educate and correct. Today, nearly sixty years since Dr. King’s words echoed across the grounds of the National Mall, we as a nation are still in those same struggles: our black brothers and sisters are still manacled and chained by segregation and discrimination.

While our country has worked to desegregate its schools, systemic racism in our education systems continue to divide our students. Black boys as young as ten are often mistaken to be much older, are more often perceived as guilty, and face police violence much more often than their white classmates.[vi] These deep-seated beliefs and misunderstandings lead to unfair treatment, more frequent suspensions and expulsions, and have fed the ‘school-to-prison’ pipeline. Our students of color are leaving schools in disproportionate numbers, and those who remain often find themselves in chronically underfunded schools and in districts with unlicensed educators.[vii] As they seek learning and education, our young brothers and sisters are still crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination.

While our nation’s legislators proudly signed into law the Voting Rights Act of 1965, they effectively washed their hands of any further work and, over the decades the bill has been whittled down, most recently this past week with the Supreme Court’s decision to uphold two Arizona laws which restrict voting for its citizens. Systemic racism in our elections has upheld voter suppression: enacting strict voter ID requirements and government-validated residential street addresses, felony disenfranchisement, and the denial of representation for US territories.[viii] Through unjust, racist voter suppression tactics meant to target people of color, our brothers and sisters are still crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination.

Our nation’s doctors take an oath to “do no harm or injustice”[ix] to their patients, yet systemic racism pervades even our medical spheres. Hospitals and clinics once designated for ethnic minorities continue to experience significant financial constraints, often under-resourced and under-staffed. Medical professionals’ implicit biases inadvertently permit black patients to receive less care and treatment compared to their white patients. In the past six months we have seen how COVID-19 treatments were quickly and effectively rolled out in white communities, while both testing and vaccines have been slow to find their way into communities of color.[x] Our brothers and sisters are sick and dying without treatment, still crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination.

While our nation’s military recruits men and women from all ethnicities, commanding officers of color are less likely to be taken seriously, to be respected, or to receive promotions. The military judicial system has “no explicit category for hate crimes, making it difficult to quantify crimes motivated by prejudice,” leading to soldiers with extremist views remaining in uniform. Persons of color are less likely to receive promotions, they experience flagrant racist epithets, and are not allowed to use protective hairstyles, leading to hair loss, scalp pain, and having to find ways to have straight, European hairstyles.[xi],[xii] While voluntarily and courageously serving our nation, our black brothers and sisters in uniform are still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination.

From sea to shining sea, systemic racism has pervaded our Church – not just in the deep south. Protestant denominations taught that the mark – the curse – of Cain was dark skin tone. They taught that the descendants of Ham would be cursed with dark skin and would face perpetual slavery for sin. Our own Presbyterian denomination preached that “Africans were cursed and deserved slavery for both their nature and their willful sin.”[xiii] One of the co-founders of my alma-mater in Austin – a Presbyterian Seminary – railed against radical social theories which asserted that all men are born free and equal[xiv] and pressed that “racial purity was the ultimate value, and racial segregation was essential to protect the purity of the white race.”[xv]

The White Church in America continues to ignore the racial injustices that pervade all spheres of life – even within its walls – by “responding to ‘black lives matter’ with the phrase ‘all lives matter’…by telling black people and their allies that their attempts to bring up racial concerns are ‘divisive’…that although the characters and the specifics are new, many of the same rationalizations for racism remain”[xvi] in these walls. We humbly pray that God’s kingdom come and be done here on earth as it is in heaven while we sit back and shrug our shoulders as our black brothers and sisters are still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination.

“We have been a country, and we have been a church, which has paid scant attention to the voices of people of color. We have been a country, and we have been a church, which has paid scant attention to the voices of women. We have been a country, and we have been a church which has paid scant attention to the voices of LGBTQ persons.”[xvii] We have been a country, and we have been a church which has paid scant attention to the voices of our veterans. We have, in the words of Letty Russell, accepted that “the marginalization of the powerless as a given.”[xviii] The manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination placed on the arms of our black brothers and sisters are the result of our misdeeds, and we continue to let them remain.

On this Independence Day it is not my intent to make you feel uncomfortable, and if you feel that way I invite you to welcome those feelings as they come. It is my intent, however, that we become honest patriots like Dr. King who chose to love this country enough to remember its misdeeds – “those times and places where particular groups were denied equal protection under the law”[xix] Dr. King lived up to those words from Ephesians we heard earlier and lived in a way that was worthy of the people God has chosen. Always humble and gentle. Patiently putting up with each other and loving each other. Trying his best to let God’s Spirit keep hearts united. Doing all this by living at peace. Most importantly though, Dr. King knew that we were all part of the same body and he chose to tell the truth[xx] no matter how difficult it was to speak.

We must be committed to this same truth telling – even the truth make us feel uncomfortable. We must be committed to the truth because we are called to this work. We must be committed to the truth because dishonesty displays a fundamental lack of respect for other persons. We must be committed to the truth because dishonesty corrodes trust and weakens our ability to participate responsibly in the world.[xxi]

Ephesians commands us to stop lying and to start telling each other the truth. The truth, this morning, is that racism and oppression are not merely relics of the past, long since legislated away, but have an active and resounding role in every place and space in our great nation. Our lips may utter “all men are created equal” but our actions often tell a different story: racism is alive and well in the institutions and systems throughout America the Beautiful.

Owning up to this truth, claiming this truth, and living it out in the world is challenging and difficult, and in the case of Dr. King – and so many others like him – this honest patriotism led to his murder. But this work must go on. It must go on for Ahmaud Arbery, hunted down and murdered in a Georgia subdivision. It must go on for George Floyd, murdered on the streets of Minneapolis for suspicion of using a counterfeit twenty dollar bill. It must go on for Christian Cooper, a bird watcher in New York who was reported to the police because he asked a woman to put her dog on a leash. It must go on for the eight people murdered in a shooting rampage across three Asian spas in Atlanta. It must go on for French and William Godley and Eugene Carter, lynched without trial down the road in Pierce City in 1901, one of many public lynchings throughout southwest Missouri and deemed by some to be ethnic cleansing.

To find, speak, and continue speaking this truth we as honest patriots must do three things. First, we owe our nation our prayers for understanding and growth, offered to God with full belief that God hears these prayers. Second, we assume responsibility for our community, working in, with, and through the systems and institutions around us to root out all forms of racism, inequality, injustice, and misuses of power. Third, we call our nation, systems, and institutions to task when they fail in their obligations and, when necessary, we utilize the power of conscientious objection and civil disobedience.[xxii]

I know for some of us, Aurora feels far from racist as we go about our lives, hearing good talk from friends and neighbors. It’s easy to get into the cycle of thinking that racism doesn’t exist in Aurora because there’s only white people. If we’re honest patriots we should question this thought…we should question why our community is so white…we should question why the over sixty lynchings that occurred in our state continue to cast long shadows on this land. We should question why our neighbors feel comfortable flying confederate flags and using racial slurs in dinner conversations. If we’re proud to be in Aurora we should be taking some long, hard looks at our history, rooting out the spaces and places where our neighbors were denied equal protection under the law.

Friends, “if the Christian Church fails to address the complex and thorny issues of racism in our own time, we have failed our fellow believers, and our Creator.”[xxiii] Let us work on ourselves, striving to live as God’s beloved and chosen ones, maintaining unity and making peace. Let us stop lying to ourselves and each other, speaking truth, kindness, and mercy. May we stand today as honest patriots, working to shatter the manacles of segregation and dismantle the chains of discrimination so that all who are created equal may be treated equal, free to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. In God’s mercy, may it be.

—–

Endnotes:
[i] Thomas Jefferson, et al, July 4, Copy of Declaration of Independence. -07-04, 1776. Manuscript/Mixed Material. https://www.loc.gov/item/mtjbib000159/.
[ii] Thomas Jefferson, et al, July 4, Copy of Declaration of Independence. -07-04, 1776.
[iii] Martin Luther King Jr., “I Have a Dream” (speech, Washington, DC, August 28, 1963), American Rhetoric, http://www.americanrhetoric.com/speeches/mlkihaveadream.htm.
[iv] Martin Luther King Jr., “I Have a Dream” (speech, Washington, DC, August 28, 1963).
[v] Donald W. Shriver, Jr. Honest Patriots: Loving a Country Enough to Remember its Misdeeds (New York: Oxford University Press, 2005).
[vi] Phillip Atiba Goff, PhD. and Matthew Christian Jackson, PhD., “The Essence of Innocence: Consequences of Dehumanizing Black Children” The University of California, Los Angeles. February 24, 2014. Accessed July 3, 2021. https://www.apa.org/pubs/journals/releases/psp-a0035663.pdf
[vii] Gillian B. White, “The Data Are Damning: How Race Influences School Funding” The Atlantic, September 30, 2015. Accessed July 3, 2021. https://www.theatlantic.com/business/archive/2015/09/public-school-funding-and-the-role-of-race/408085/; Joy Resmovits, “American Schools Are STILL Racist, Government Report Finds”, Huffpost, March 21, 2014. Accessed July 3, 2021. www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/03/21/schools-discrimination_n_5002954.html
[viii] Danyelle Solomon, Connor Maxwell, and Abril Castro, “Systemic Inequality and American Democracy” Center for American Progress, August 7, 2019. Accessed July 3, 2021. https://www.americanprogress.org/issues/race/reports/2019/08/07/473003/systematic-inequality-american-democracy/
[ix] “Greek Medicine” History of Medicine Division, Nation Library of Medicine, February 7, 2012. Accessed July 3, 2021. https://www.nlm.nih.gov/hmd/greek/greek_oath.html
[x] “Systemic Racism and Health Care, COVID & Treatment” National Institute for Health Care Management, February 11, 2021. Accessed July 3, 2021. https://nihcm.org/publications/systemic-racism-health-care-covid-treatment
[xi] Andrea M. Peters, “One Proposal for Improving Army Inclusivity for Women of Color: Update Hair Regulations” Military.com, August 21, 2020. Accessed July 3, 2021. https://www.military.com/daily-news/opinions/2020/08/21/one-proposal-improving-army-inclusivity-women-of-color-update-hair-regulations.html
[xii] Jon Niccum, “Army’s Conflicting History of Haircuts and Racial Identity Explored in New Article” The University of Kansas, December 9, 2019. Accessed July 3, 2021. https://news.ku.edu/2019/12/06/army%E2%80%99s-conflicting-history-haircuts-and-racial-identity-explored-new-article-2
[xiii] Jack Rogers, Jesus, the Bible, and Homosexuality: Explode the Myths, Heal the Church (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009), 19.
[xiv] Robert L. Dabney, “Anti-Biblical Theories of Rights,” Presbyterian Quarterly 2, no. 2 (July 1888): 215-42, 219.
[xv] Jack Rogers, Jesus, the Bible, and Homosexuality, 25.
[xvi] Jemar Tisby, The Color of Compromise: The Truth About the American Church’s Complicity in Racism (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2019).
[xvii] Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), A Resolution on Honest Patriotism (Louisville: Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), 2018), 13.
[xviii] Letty Russell, Church in the Round: Feminist Interpretation of the Church (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993), 35.
[xix] Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), A Resolution on Honest Patriotism, 2.
[xx] Ephesians 4:1-3; 25
[xxi] Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), A Resolution on Honest Patriotism, 8-10.
[xxii] Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), A Resolution on Honest Patriotism, 14-15.
[xxiii] Dennis Hollinger, “Racism and the Church: How Should We Respond?” Center for Pastor Theologians, September 29, 2020. Accessed July 3, 2021. https://www.pastortheologians.com/articles/2020/9/29/racism-and-the-church-how-should-we-respond#_edn1

Truth: Travel Companion

by ShethChristianity / Church / Friends / Home / Love / Relationships / Seminary / Truth TuesdayLeave a Comment on Truth: Travel Companion

In the morning, Chelsea May and I are leaving Texas, heading north to new locations (undisclosed for a week!) and new, unforeseen adventures.  I came to Texas in the wake of Hurricane Harvey to attend seminary, and I’m leaving in the wake of Hurricane Hannah, seminary completed and ready to move into ministry, married to my best friend and heading to new locations and new experiences.  It’s more than I ever dreamed of and more than I ever imagined.

When I landed in Austin I wanted to finish seminary and do ministry in a small town; I had no hopes or dreams of dating – let alone marrying – someone.  But God is funny, and by the end of our first year of classes I knew Chelsea May was going to be a significant person in my life.  While we got along in class, we somehow gravitated toward one another outside of the classroom and we just…kinda stuck together.  Going for late night pizzas…seeking ice cream on summer nights…going to church together…grocery store runs…movie nights and late night discussions.  Honestly, it’s one of those gross, fairytale, romantic montages from a rom-com that shows up on the Hallmark channel late at night.

And I’m okay with that.  I’m okay with the mushiness and the romance and the overly-cute nonsense that we do for one another and with one another.  It’s great – it’s what I always wanted and what I need in a relationship.  But I’m also okay with hanging out in our sweats and doin’ nothin’ on a Friday night as the cats run around the room like banshees.  And I’m okay with the arguments and the ‘serious discussions’ and being grumpy because it’s a Thursday.  I’m okay with all of this and all the unknowns, all the mysteries, and all the for-sures because I love her, and she, me.

Charles Schulz says it best for me as she and I rest up before our trip tomorrow: “In life, it’s not where you go, it’s who you travel with.”  While I’m confident that the future is unknown and scary and a little worrisome, I’m also confident that when I travel with Chelsea May, I know I’ll be fine.  She’s capable.  She’s strong.  She’s confident.  She’s loving.  She’s ready.  She’s trusting.  She can carry my baggage when it’s too much.  She can help navigate my dangerous waters.  She can lead me when I can’t do it.  She can take care of me when I need it most.  She can do all the things I can when I simply cannot do them – and she will – because she loves me.  And she knows that I’ll do the exact same for her at any moment because I love her.

I’m ready to travel to unknown places and unknown spaces because Chelsea May will be with me every step of the way.  I’m ready to travel into these next moments of ministry and life because God is with us both.  I’m ready to go because we’ve been sent.  I’m ready!

much love. sheth.

Truth: Black Lives Matter.

by ShethChristianity / Friends / Life / Social Media / Truth TuesdayLeave a Comment on Truth: Black Lives Matter.

I recently saw this image on Facebook, one of but many posted by people who cry out, “All human lives matter!” or “We all bleed the same!” or “All lives matter – Jesus died for us all!”  Yes, all lives matter to God.  Yes, the ground is level at the foot of the cross.  Yes, we all bleed the same.  But now is not the time to ‘like and share’ these theological platitudes.  This is not a theological discussion – this is a social discussion.

The problem with this image I saw on Facebook is that it blatantly ignores the voices that are crying out to be heard right now.  Look closely – this image doesn’t mention black lives.  It mentions Indian lives.  And White lives.  And Blue lives.  But Black lives?  Apparently they can be ignored.  Sharing this image perpetuates the idea that black lives don’t matter in a time when they are desperately calling out.  If you’ve shared this image (or something similar), your racism stands out more than you ever thought possible.  If you can’t share an image that only says black lives matter – if you can’t share an image that even includes that line – then you don’t believe that all lives matter.  Sharing an image like this says that you believe all lives matter except black lives.

Now, you might say something like: “Black lives are included in the ‘Minority lives matter’ line in the image!”  But that still doesn’t make things better.  You’re saying that you want to say black lives matter, but you don’t want to upset your friends or family or whoever else might see it.  And yet you want them to think that you’re a good, full-spectrum-loving person, so you settled on this image.  But it’s a feeble middle-ground to land on – you’re trying to save face with family and friends when an entire race of people is struggling to breathe.

Sharing this image – and others like it – is done with good intentions (and there are roads paved with good intentions), but these images ignore the reality of the situation.  Yes, all lives matter.  But right now, all lives are not being treated well.  All lives are not being treated equally.  While some of us are able to sit on mountains of power and privilege as we post simple images to make ourselves feel good, there are black lives that continue to be abused and murdered in the valleys of oppression.  A black man was murdered in front of us all and we watched, shrugged our shoulders, and hit ‘share’ on a damned meme.

Look, I’m guilty, too.  While I haven’t shared an ‘All lives matter’ image, neither have I shared a ‘black lives matter’ image.  I haven’t been vocal in making it known that I believe that black lives matter – I have been silent, and my silence makes me just as guilty as those who share these images.  I am complicit in not using my voice to make my feelings known because I, too, have feared retribution from family and friends.  But at this point, it no longer matters: I must stand with the oppressed and face the retribution from family and friends.

Black lives matter.
I say it because I am called to speak and stand with the oppressed. 

Black lives matter.
I say it because I am called to stand against injustice.

Black lives matter.
I say it because I am called to correct error.

Black lives matter.
I say it because I believe it.
May it be so.  Dear God, may it be so.

much love. sheth.

The Harvest

by ShethChristianity / Life / Missions / Seminary / SermonLeave a Comment on The Harvest

In the early morning hours of May thirteenth I was on my morning walk, listening to NPR as I headed south from the seminary campus.  I passed the only people in public these days: the men and women experiencing homelessness, sleeping peacefully tucked away in the entrance ways to buildings.  The morning was quiet, the sun, warm.

I turned east onto Martin Luther King, Jr. Boulevard as the news reporter continued in my ear: “The killing of a black man in Georgia received little attention in February.  Later, a video circulated.  And it’s a big part of the news now.  The shooting of a black woman in Louisville, Kentucky, received little attention in mid-March.  Now that has become part of our national conversation.”[1]  That morning I learned about both Ahmaud Arbery and Breonna Taylor, two souls taken from this world, one for jogging while black, the other for sleeping while black.  As I moved down the boulevard named for the slain civil rights leader, my heart sank as the story of stolen, innocent lives unfolded before me.

The news cycle continued past these two names and I found myself, two weeks later, scrolling through Facebook where I came across the now-infamous photo of a white police officer, his hands casually in his pockets as he knelt on the neck of a black man.[2]  I had no context for the photo at the time – I didn’t know why George Floyd was face-down on the pavement, and as I looked at that picture, it really did not matter.  Deep in my body there was an immediate gut-wrenching…as I unknowingly witnessed the murder of a black man.  If you have seen the photo, you have witnessed the murder of a black man.  And we have all seen it.  We have all witnessed the murder of a black man.

*****

Matthew 9:35-10:8 (NRSV)

“Then Jesus went about all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues, and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom, and curing every disease and every sickness. When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”

Then Jesus summoned his twelve disciples and gave them authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to cure every disease and every sickness. These are the names of the twelve apostles: first, Simon, also known as Peter, and his brother Andrew; James son of Zebedee, and his brother John; Philip and Bartholomew; Thomas and Matthew the tax collector; James son of Alphaeus, and Thaddaeus; Simon the Cananaean, and Judas Iscariot, the one who betrayed him.

These twelve Jesus sent out with the following instructions: “Go nowhere among the Gentiles, and enter no town of the Samaritans, but go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. As you go, proclaim the good news, ‘The kingdom of heaven has come near.’ Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons. You received without payment; give without payment.”

*****

The Jesus we see in Matthew is a busy Jesus: having been baptized and tempted, Jesus has returned to Galilee where he begins to proclaim that “the kingdom of heaven has come near” (4:17).  His proclamation on the mountainside is recorded in chapters five through seven, and afterward, Jesus goes full-speed through the region performing all sorts of miracles: he heals the lame, he casts out demons, he calms the seas, and he raises the dead.  Only briefly does Jesus slow down to call Matthew into service and have a conversation with both the pharisees and John’s disciples.  Our Lord then gets back to work and, to make up for lost time, performs four more miracles within ten verses! 

And we finally land in today’s passage, where it summarizes the busy-ness of  Jesus: he’s seen the sick, the wounded, the blind, the lame, the diseased.  He’s cared for the abused, the weak, the poor – and the rich.  It feels like he’s worked non-stop since he left that mountain: Jesus is still at work proclaiming the good news, curing disease and sickness, bringing dead to life.

Within all this furious movement, it is here that the biblical text seems to stop.  And it focuses on this moment, saying: “When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them.”  Jesus stops long enough to see the crowds of people around him.  He witnesses their diseases, their wounded-ness, their dejection. 

The text says Jesus felt compassion for them.  The Greek word for compassion that is used here is ἐσπλαγχνίσθη (esplanchnisthē) – it is a feeling in the inner-most parts of the body, where one’s heart-feelings reside.  Jesus’ compassion as he saw the crowd was a gut-feeling – a deep, heartfelt, emotional compassion.  The verse could read: “Jesus, seeing the crowds was a gut-wrenching moment and he felt nothing but compassion for them…”  He felt punched in the gut because when he looked – when he honestly looked – he saw people who were harassed and helpless…people who were wounded and tired…people who were like lost sheep without a shepherd in sight.

As overwhelming as it may seem to us to see a crowd of needy people, for our Lord it was a catalyst toward action as he moves into action, responding to the needs of the people.  His compassion moves him into action.  His compassion moves him forward.  His compassion moves him to recruit helpers. 

In the name of compassion, Jesus speaks to his disciples, telling them to see as he sees: the harvest is plentiful, but the workers few.  He tells his disciples to change their vision so they can see the needs staring them in the face.

In the name of compassion, Jesus tells them to pray for God to send workers, and quickly they become the answer to their own prayers – the disciples become the apostles, the laborers in the Lord’s harvest. 

In the name of compassion, Jesus summons the twelve and gives them authority to do just as he himself has been doing: casting out unclean spirits, healing socially-devaluing illnesses, curing every bodily sickness. 

In the name of compassion, Jesus calls them by their name: from Peter – the rock upon whom Jesus will build his church – all the way to Simon the Zealot and Judas the betrayer.  Jesus calls this imperfect group and commissions them to do the compassionate service needed in the world.  These men didn’t meet the needs of the people: God meets the needs of the people through them. 

In the name of compassion, Jesus gives them a specific and timely mission: go not to the Gentiles, nor to the Samaritans, but go instead to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.  And as they go they should spread compassion by not only proclaiming the good news, but by curing the sick, cleansing the lepers, casting out demons, raising the dead. 

In the name of compassion, Jesus makes these disciples his apostles and sends them out to the lost sheep.

Ahmaud Arbery.  Breonna Taylor.  George Floyd.  Three persons of color murdered in the land of the free.  Three Americans slaughtered for being non-white – three of but thousands upon thousands of now-saints who have been harassed, mocked, stalked, targeted, arrested, beaten, murdered and assassinated.  We are witnesses to these crimes. 

The crowds are crying with exhaustion…do you see?
The virus continues to ravage the weak and elderly…do you see?
Our leaders continue to remain hidden in their ivory houses…do you see?
We cast one another down with our hands and our voices…do you see?

God’s beloved children – just like you and me – are cowering like helpless animals, wondering where our leaders are…wondering where hope is…wondering if times like these are too difficult, even for the Lord.

Look.  The children need diapers and formula and shelter.
Look.  The men and women need jobs and financial assistance.
Look.  The schools need funding, and buildings, and teachers.
Look.  The hospitals need masks, and gloves, and workers.

The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers, are few. 

We have gathered as disciples under the teachings of Jesus long enough.  Open our eyes.  Look at the crowds.  Jesus is summoning us even now, and is gifting us with the authority to do as he does.  Jesus is calling each of us by name.  Jesus is calling us to be apostles, to be sent out.

The kingdom of heaven draws near! 

With gut-wrenching compassion, let us proclaim the good news of the royal reign of God! 
With gut-wrenching compassion, let us drive out unclean spirits!
With gut-wrenching compassion, let us heal every socially-devaluing illness and every bodily sickness to which we bear witness.

Return life to the dead…make clean the unclean…drive out evil.

You saw his face pressed against the hot asphalt… 
You saw the violent response to peaceful protests…
You saw the homeless man on the corner this week…
You saw news of an elderly person’s death from the coronavirus…

My God, the harvest is plentiful!

__________

[1] “Shooting of Unarmed Black Woman In Kentucky Gets National Attention” NPR: Morning Edition, May 13, 2020. https://www.npr.org/2020/05/13/855096212/shooting-of-unarmed-black-woman-in-kentucky-gets-national-attention

[2] “Killing of George Floyd” Wikipedia, last modified June 10, 2020. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Killing_of_George_Floyd

*****

[This is the text of the sermon I preached for the Committee on the Preparation for Ministry for the Presbytery of Pueblo – one of the required steps in the ordination process for the PC(USA)]

Truth: Hospitality.

by ShethChristianity / Church / Friends / Life / Seminary / Truth TuesdayLeave a Comment on Truth: Hospitality.

I first met Kallie during our seminary’s orientation – with both southern accent and charm she handed me her calling card as she introduced herself, and I was excited because she was the kind of southerner I’d hoped to meet in Texas.  As our first semester moved along, I quickly came to understand that she was more than my simple pre-conceived notions.  She’s a people-person, she’s outside-the-box brilliant, she’s grossly generous and, most importantly, she embodies Christian hospitality.  That last one is what I admire so much about her: with open arms and heart she welcomes strangers into her life without complaint.  She seeks to entertain angels and she prepares tables with bountiful feasts of love.

I heard the song “Crowded Table” by The Highwomen the other day and I immediately thought of my friend.  The song’s chorus rings out: “I want a house with a crowded table / And a place by the fire for everyone / Let us take on the world while we’re young and able / And bring us back together when the day is done.”  For me, this is Kallie, and this is her hope for the Church.  She wants the table in God’s house to be crowded with people who love and care for one another, and she is doing her best to bring Heaven to earth in the here and now at her table.  She has friends and acquaintances and strangers over for dinner.  She brings people together who would never find reason to speak.  She gives herself to those around her.  Kallie gives me hope.

She gives me hope that there are ways for us to come together in spite of our differences.  She gives me hope that we can take on the wrongs of this world and make them right.  She gives me hope that a little hard work can produce great, life-giving benefits.  And Kallie gives me hope for the Church.  She – and others like her – are so desperately necessary.  In spite of the hatred and divisiveness in this world, she has shown me – and continues to show me – that it is possible to love the stranger, to invite others in, to be Christ in this world.  She reminds me that there are others just like her who are exceptionally giving, who extend goodwill, who unconditionally entertain guests, visitors, and strangers. 

The world needs more hospitality…the world needs more Kallies: people who work to make their tables crowded…people who make space by their fires…people who do the work needed to bring Heaven to earth.  Thank you, Kallie, for feeding the hungry, for giving drink to the thirsty, for welcoming the stranger.  I pray that we can all be a little more (or a lot more) like you, seeking out ways to serve Christ in the here and now.

much love. sheth.

Truth: Heart, Pt. 2.

by ShethChristianity / Life / Prayer / Seminary / Truth Tuesday2 Comments on Truth: Heart, Pt. 2.

A while back I had to have a few tests done for my heart (I wrote about my heart stuff here).  The first test was a treadmill stress test which showed an ‘abnormality’ and necessitated a second, more complete test (which should have been the starting place, but the healthcare system is broken and out to make money blah blah blah). 

This second test was called a CTA scan – a technicians injected me with dye and then they took very detailed pictures of my heart as it was functioning and working.  After the test I was discharged from the hospital and sent home to wait for the results, which came back a few weeks ago.  It turns out that I have a ‘grossly normal’ heart, meaning there couldn’t possibly be anything wrong with it at all – it’s ‘right as rain’ as they say.  I’m fine!

And honestly, I was slightly disappointed.
Disappointed that there were no abnormalities…
Disappointed that there was nothing wrong with my heart…
Disappointed that the only explanation for my chest pain is high blood pressure…
…and that I did this to myself.

It’s because of my poor choices that I am in this situation and I can’t blame anyone else, which makes it hard to not beat up on myself.  I don’t know where else to put the blame, the anger, the sadness that this is what my life has become – it’s solely my fault.  I am to blame, and it’s hard to not be mad and disappointed at me.

 

But somehow I thank God for that.  I thank God that as I go through this process of medications and walking and dietary changes, I know that I got myself into this mess and I can get myself out of it.  I know that I have the power to make poor choices and I have the power to make good choices.  I know that God is there with me through it all – disappointed in my choices but never in me – and will give me what I need when I need it.  I just have to listen to God’s still, small voice – or the really loud one that I definitely hear!  It’s not easy to make lifestyle changes…nor is it easy to make internal dialogue changes…but it can be done with time, patience, and persistence.

And grace – lots of grace.

much love. sheth.