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Monday, January 20, 2014

Change -- a Meditation on the Occasion of Martin Luther King Jr. Day




One of the great liabilities of life is that all too many people find themselves living amid a great period of social change, and yet they fail to develop the new attitudes, the new mental responses, that the new situation desires. They end up sleeping through a revolution.” – Martin Luther King, Jr.

I've been thinking a lot lately about the phrase “change just for the sake of change” – almost always used as a negative, as in, “we don’t want change just for the sake of change” – because I’m coming to believe that is exactly what we need in order to develop the mental flexibility Dr. King was talking about in the quote above.
And we desperately need it – now more than ever. Our world is changing so fast it’s like our society is on a bullet train. Around 1900, Buckmeister Fuller noticed that the amount of knowledge in the world doubled about every century. By the end of World War II that had been cut to just 25 years.  Experts now say that on average it’s now about every 12 months! In some things like technology the pace of change is even faster. And other social changes are following a similar trajectory.
On a more personal, individual level the one constant really is change. Now firmly in “mid-life” this is more obvious to me. Our bodies change – sometimes it seems almost daily. Our family dynamics change as children become adults, have their own careers, their own children. And I notice I see things differently now than I did even a decade ago – including myself.  I once remarked that I went from being “Betty’s daughter” to “Jenny’s mom.” But it occurred to me recently that it is in this time of my life that I am better able to see just me. So not all the changes that come with age are bad.
But they are changes just the same. Sometimes exciting, something scary, often unsettling. And we have to deal with them. And I think too many of us don’t deal with them, or deal with them badly. We hold on to the old for so long that when we finally give in and accept the reality of the change – often that was happening without us – it is more traumatic, or causes more anger, or is just flat too late. Too late for us to catch up. Too late to find our way. We’ve been left behind. We look around and wonder where everyone else has gone.
It’s like, as Dr. King suggests above, we’ve been sleeping and awaken suddenly to find the revolution has happened without us. We’ve become disoriented, disconnected, obsolete. And those awakening sleepers who take a long time to open their eyes can cause a great deal of anguish and havoc as they reorient themselves to the new reality. We’re seeing this play out on a daily basis in our larger social and political sphere – take, for example, those who continue to fight with every weapon at their disposal against same-sex marriage, even though a majority of public option supports it and the courts are rapidly changing our laws to reflect that.
Adaptability to change is necessarily for our survival as a species, and for our success and happiness, if not also our survival, as individuals. But where and how do we learn that skill – dealing with change? It’s a practical issue; it’s a societal issue; it’s a spiritual issue.
I’m coming to believe that church is one place we can, and should, learn how to deal with change. That’s not a commonly held belief. Many people I talk to see the church as the one bulwark against change – the one place where in a changing world things will remain the same, remain familiar. That may be a comfortable view of the church, but it is not a realistic one. It is also a liability for the continued survival of the church. If the church sleeps through the revolutions happening all around, it will find itself irrelevant and obsolete.
        But I think that attitude is also a misunderstanding of Christianity – after all, Jesus was no advocate of the status quo. Jesus was all about change – changing our hearts, changing our minds, changing our ways (a.k.a. repentance), changing our world. Jesus didn’t call us to him, or to God, to escape the reality of the world, but to help us deal with it with compassion, challenge, and hope. Jesus waded right into the waters of change and stirred them up. Dr. King, acting out of his deep Christian faith, did the same. That’s not a peaceful or comfortable place to be, but it is living water, and no matter what, God is there.
        But there’s another aspect to this: When we are awake to the reality of change, we are also alive to it’s possibility. If we don’t experience life and society as constantly changing, we may not recognize that it can or should change. So when we see entrenched problems, we see injustice, we see need we just shake our heads, thinking: “That’s just the way it is.” No it’s not. That’s just the way it is now. It can be different tomorrow. We can make it different tomorrow.
         Or worse, we can label all change as bad, since it's not "the way it's always been" (which, of course, is usually not even true). The status quo, however illogical or unjust, can become enshrined under the heading of "tradition." So how we deal with change is also a social justice issue.
         The church already teaches about change in a number of ways. It's  the reality underlying the changing liturgical seasons: Advent gives way to Christmas, which changes to Epiphany, and so on. We teach it with the movement from death to new life in the resurrection. We teach it through scripture, which is full of lessons on change. But perhaps we can and should do more, should find new and different ways to share this lesson, and so help our congregations develop more mental and spiritual flexibility to weather the inevitable changes in their own lives and their world, and to be the instruments of that change where it is needed.
          Change just for the sake of change – yes – but for our own sake, and the world’s sake, as well.


Sunday, January 19, 2014

Not So Scary -- Come and See



Text of a Sermon given at Central Congregational Church by Rev. Christine Ng on January 19, 2014 based on John 1;29-42

I’m going to use a scary word. Ready? Evangelism. Ready to leave yet? No? Good. Because it’s really not that scary.
I think most of us have a negative reaction to the “E” word because of experiences with those who knock on our door to hand us copies of the “Watchtower”; or accost us in train stations to tell us that we need to accept Jesus Christ as our personal savior; or because of folks like Lynette, who I worked with as a Girl Scout Camp Counselor when I was in high school, who was genuinely upset that I would be going to hell because I didn’t see God and Jesus the same way she did – and spent the summer trying to convince me otherwise.
But the gospel story we heard today is all about evangelism, and there’s none of that king of stuff going on – but there is a lot of pointing. Not finger in your face pointing – but pointing out. Noticing and sharing.
Noticing, paying attention to where God’s presence is seen or felt. Sharing that experience with others. It’s where evangelism begins.
In the story today it begins with John the Baptist seeing what he never noticed before – no matter how long he’d known his cousin Jesus. It’s certainly not the only time in scripture that people don’t see what’s been right in front of them all along; don’t recognize it’s true identity or worth; until something happens to reveal that to them – or someone points it out. It will happen again in just a few weeks when we hear the story of the transfiguration that concludes the season after Epiphany.
So there’s John, who has been going around saying that someone who ranks ahead of him is coming, someone special. And then the Holy Spirit points out to John that the special someone was his own cousin Jesus. He hadn’t noticed before.
So what does he do – he tells his disciples about it. He shares what he saw and then points Jesus out to them. That’s it. Andrew, one of those disciples who goes to check out Jesus, later does the same – he tells his brother Simon what he has seen. He points the way to Jesus. The very first act of discipleship in the Fourth Gospel is to see and share – or to use more “churchy” words – John and Andrew witness, they testify to what they have seen. They do evangelism.
This is a very important concept in the Fourth Gospel. The Greek word for “bearing witness” or “testifying” happens only once in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke and not at all in Mark. But in John it shows up 31 times.
But there’s a third element to evangelism in this story too – invitation. And we see three different examples. First, just by pointing Jesus out to his disciples and testifying to what he saw John invites them to go check it out for themselves. Then when the disciples approach Jesus and ask him a question, Jesus doesn’t answer it but instead issues an invitation, “Come and see.” Then after spending time with Jesus, Andrew goes to his brother Simon and testifies to his own experience, that he has “found the Messiah,” and then the text says “he brought Simon to Jesus.” And by that I don’t think the text means he dragged him kicking and screaming or in chains. I think he issued the same invitation Jesus did, “come and see.”
Noticing. Sharing. Inviting. That’s it. Not threatening, not coercing, not intimidating, not wooing, or wheedling or pleading. It’s not stalking someone until they try green eggs and ham. That’s not the Biblical model of evangelism. That’s not what Jesus taught. Just simply “come and see” – an invitation saying that you are welcome to come and see for yourself, make up your own mind.
That makes sense. I know if someone tries to force me to do something it becomes something I really, really, really don’t want to do. If I am forced to do something, it’s hard for me to give it a chance, to be open to it. I suspect I’m not the only one.
I read this story  about a woman named Margaret and her dog, Patches, the Yorkshire terrier. Everyday when Margaret would open the medicine cabinet Patches would run and hide – under the bed, behind the claw footed bath tub, behind the recliner or the sofa.
Someone had told Margaret that Patches would live longer, have better teeth and a more beautiful coat if she would give the dog a tablespoon of castor oil every day. So every day Margaret would drag Patches out from whatever place he was hiding, hold him down, pry open his jaws, and pour a tablespoon of castor oil down his little doggie throat. It was a miserable experience for both of them – but it was for his own good, right?
Then once, during their daily battle royal, Patches’ rear paw hit the bottle of oil and sent it flying across the kitchen floor. Margaret put Patches down so she could get the mop to clean up the mess. But when she came back she found Patches lapping up the spilled oil. It wasn’t the oil Patches hated, it was being held down, forced to take it. Patches didn’t like being forced to do something any more than I do.
I believe that the more obnoxious and coercive forms of evangelism not only turn it into a dirty word for many faithful Christians, but pushes away precisely those who may want or need the good news we have to share. And I think that the author of the Gospel of John, sometimes called the “Fourth Evangelist,” knew that – as did Jesus. Because that’s not how they teach us to do it: “Here’s what I saw, felt, experienced. Come and see.” That’s it.
How many of you have invited someone to try out a favorite restaurant? Have any of you told someone about a good doctor you know, or a movie you liked? See, we invite and testify all the time. But how often do you say something like, “I go to Central Congregational Church over on Royal Lane. Want to come?”
I think another reason many of us are uncomfortable with inviting people to church is that we have this idea that religion is a private matter. But that’s a misunderstanding of Christianity – which has always been personal, but not private. Just the act of corporate worship, of coming to church, is a public act of testimony. And, as the text this morning shows us, testimony and invitation are important acts of faith, of discipleship.
Other times, I think we’re afraid to mention anything about church or religion because we might get into a complicated theological discussion.
We’re not sure we are up to the task, that we have the “right” answers. But notice, Jesus didn’t answer the question asked him in today’s story, he just said, “come and see.” All we can do is testify to our own experience, and invite others to see for themselves.
Then there’s my favorite – I’ve heard it a lot since I’ve come to Dallas: “Everyone I know has a church.” Yes, and . . .? So that means you can’t tell them what your church means to you? So that means you can’t issue a simple invitation? Do you think they will be insulted if you just say, “want to come some time”?
The practice of trying to lure someone from their church is sometimes called “sheep stealing.” That’s not evangelism as Jesus taught it. Jesus didn’t walk up to John’s disciples and say, “don’t follow him, follow me.”
But the longer I live in Dallas, the more I realize that there are more people who say they have a church than actually are really part of a church. Often you have no idea what their relationship is with their church. No idea if they have found what they are looking for, to use Jesus’ question, if the only time they've attended that church was on Christmas Eve five years ago. And I have found few folks are offended by an invitation – even if they turn it down.
When I first came to Dallas I got a phone call from a woman at a local Episcopalian church inviting me to visit their church. It was a cold call. I hadn’t filled out any card saying I wanted to be contacted me. She was just telling me that the church was there if I needed it and issuing the invitation. It was unexpected; but lovely. When I told her that I had, in fact, come to Dallas to pastor a church, she wasn’t embarrassed or put off, she just said, “Wonderful. Would you like us to pray for you and your ministry or for anyone else?” I’m not sure cold calling someone like that, is the best way to go, or worth the time and effort, but she sure left me with a good feeling about that church. So maybe it was worth it after all.
Your simple invitation, even if it’s turned down, plants a seed – a seed you may never see it grow, but it’s enough that you planted it. Sometimes people need to hear the invitation several times, in different ways, before they answer it. Advertising specialist say 7 times is the magic number, but I think it depends.
We talk a lot about welcome here at Central. About practicing the extravagant welcome of Jesus. It’s something we always need to work on, to improve, because it’s essential to our practice of faith and our identity as a church. Our new Welcome Team is just the most recent way we are trying to do that. Greeting is the most important job in the church, and one anyone of any age can do.
But this scripture is an example of how, to practice true welcome, we can’t just stand at the door and wait for folks to come on their own. How will people know to come if we don’t let them know we are here? How will people know they are welcome here – no matter who they are on where they are on life’s journey – if we don’t tell them? There needs to be something, or more importantly someone, to point us out, to point the way. Like John did for Andrew, and Andrew did for Simon. And sometimes, like Andrew, you have to go out to connect with others to issue the invitation.
As I’ve said before – this is why it is so important that we do the Pride Parade. It’s witness, it’s testimony, it’s invitation, it’s evangelism. It’s letting people know we are here, telling them they are welcome, and inviting them to come and see. It’s reaching out to people who have heard the opposite message over and over.
We may soon have another wonderful opportunity to testify to God’s extravagant love and to invite others to come and see. Along with another open and affirming church in our neighborhood, Midway Hills Christian, we have been approached by the leadership of Northhaven United Methodist Church to help gay and lesbian members of their church be united in marriage before God – something the polity of the United Methodist Church does not allow but ours does. And we have invited them to come here to be married, to come and see how we practice the welcome of God, not so that Northhaven members will leave and become members here, but because witness and invitation are essential to who we are as Christians. Because we are an open and affirming church, treating all God’s children as equal before God. Because the very act of welcome is an act of discipleship and social justice.
On this weekend when we remember the life and work of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. we might even say that the heart of the civil rights movement is welcome. Making sure all people are welcome – at the lunch counter, at the water fountain, in schools, in neighborhoods, at the front of the bus, at the top of the social and economic ladder. And working, doing what we can, so that no one has to fight for that invitation, but knows that it is open to all, because all are equally beloved children of God.
There are a lot of people in our community whose experience of Christianity and the church has been very negative. Their experience is that Christians are at best naïve and at worst downright cruel. That Christianity isn’t life-giving, it’s soul-destroying. That the church isn’t a place of safety, it’s a place of danger and pain.
But I hope that you who are in our pews here today have had a different experience. I hope you have seen a different Jesus, a different Christianity, a different church. Maybe, like John the Baptist, you too have come to know Jesus as the one who takes away – takes away shame, takes away burdens too heavy to carry, takes away despair. Hopefully you’ve felt that this is a place where you can get to know that Jesus, and connect with God through others seeking the same thing.
Think about it. Think about one reason you like this church, notice one reason you like to come here. Just one. I invite you to share that one reason with someone this week – maybe start during coffee hour, just for some practice – it’s a friendly audience. And think about one person that you can just ask, “want to come?” No pressure. Not so scary. Come to a social event like the pot luck dinner next Friday. Come to worship some Sunday, any Sunday. Come and see the African children’s choir, Asante, that will be back with us in February.
It’ll be great. Come and see. Amen.

Monday, January 6, 2014

A Gift for Epiphany

Today is Epiphany, the day traditionally set aside to remember and celebrate the journey of the magi, the wise men, to see the baby Jesus, bearing gifts.

And so I have for you today, a gift, a poem by Jan Richardson for this occasion. Enjoy.

Wise Women Also Came
by Jan Richardson

Wise women also came.
The fire burned
in their wombs
long before they saw
the flaming star
in the sky.
They walked in shadows,
trusting the path
would open
under the light of the moon.

Wise women also came,
seeking no directions,
no permission
from any king.
They came
by their own authority
their own desire,
their own longing.
They came in quiet,
spreading no rumors,
sparking no fears
to lead
to innocents’ slaughter,
to their sister Rachel’s
inconsolable lamentations.

Wise women also came,
and they brought
useful gifts:
water for labor’s washing,
fire for warm illumination,
a blanket for swaddling.

Wise women also came,
at least three of them,
holding Mary in the labor,
crying out with her
in the birth pangs,
breathing ancient blessings
into her ear.

Wise women also came,
and they went,
as wise women always do,
home a different way.


If you enjoy Jan Richardson, you might want to check out her blog post for Epiphany this year, and her on-line retreat for Women's Christmas (which some folks celebrate on Epiphany) at http://sanctuaryofwomen.com/blog/womens-christmas-the-shimmering-hours/