Spiritual Integrity

The following is the sermon given by Rev. Christine Ng at Central Congregational Church on February 9th, based on Matthew 5:13-20.

     You are salt of the earth. You are the light of the world. You are. You. Salt. Light. Not you can be, or you should be, or you will be. You are. Salt of the earth. Light of the world.
     The Season after Epiphany is a time to think about how God is revealed – how God shines forth, like the star that guided the magi to the Christ child. This Epiphany we’ve been exploring our 2014 theme of “Come, Grow Share,” and in the process we’ve looked at how God is revealed in us: in who we are, and in how we are together. And from the scriptures we’ve discovered our true names: Beloved, Blessed – and we’ve considered how we can grow into those names to help make the kin-dom of God visible on earth.
     Today’s scripture is also about our identity, about who we are in God, in Christ. But instead of describing us by name, Jesus describes us by our function. It’s like when we describe ourselves by our occupation or vocation: I’m a teacher – or I’m a nurse – or I’m a mother. Because what we do is part of who we are – though not all of it. It’s not a complete description, and we are often several things at once.
     The descriptions Jesus gives of us here is also incomplete – but we can still learn something from it about ourselves, about who we were created to be: We are salt of the earth. We are the light of the world.
      Let’s talk about salt. It can be a little harder to hear this description of us as positive today, given the messages we are being given all the time about how bad salt is for us – that we need to cut back on salt, go on low or no salt diets. But it’s only in modern times that an excess of salt has become a problem.
     Through most of human history, salt has been something special, something precious. Saltworks, where salt is extracted from the water or earth have been found dating back to 6,000 years before the common era (BCE). The quest for salt led to the development of major trade routes around the world. Some cultures traded salt for gold – equally by weight. Makes a little more sense of the phrase “worth his/her salt” doesn’t it? Our word “salary” comes from a latin word used to describe trading for salt.
The Celtic word for “salt” means “holy” or “sacred,” and salt is used in the rites and rituals of many cultures and religions. For the Hebrews, salt was a sign of the covenant with God: it was sprinkled on offerings to show their trust in God. In Christianity, it was even traditionally used to consecrate a new church.
     Why was salt considered so important? Think about what salt does. It gives flavor to what would otherwise be tasteless or bland. It helps make food come alive for our senses. It also preserves food – and is one of the first ways humans learned to do this. When we eat salt, it encourages us to drink water; it regulates our thirst.
     Modern science has also discovered that the human body contains about 8 ounces of salt, it’s in our very cells, and we need salt to live. It helps our nerves and muscles function correctly. And as a society, we’ve learned that salt helps our cities function, by melting snow on roads and walkways.
     Salt is distinctive, precious, and necessary. It helps bring out the flavor of life and makes things function smoothly. And we, Jesus tells us, are salt. Hmmm.
     And then there’s the next description. Light. I remember when I first really read this passage it shocked me. “Light of the World”? It says we are “light of the world”? I thought that was another name for Jesus.
        In John’s Gospel, Jesus says, “I am the light of the world.” True. But in Matthew’s Gospel, written much earlier, Jesus looks right at his disciples, right at me, right at you, and says, “You are the light of the world.” Who me? “Yes,” Jesus says, “you.”
     A few weeks ago, we saw how for the prophet Isaiah we are mirrors, reflecting God’s light on the world. A beautiful image. But in Matthew’s Gospel, this is no reflected light we are shining. It’s light that is within us, each of us.
    John Philip Newell describes how Christian writers out of the Celtic tradition thought of this kind of light as being the light described in the first creation story in Genesis. God said, “let there be light,” and there was light, before God created any external sources of light like the Sun or the stars. That light of the first day of creation could only come from one source, from God – and they believed that divine light permeates all of creation, including us – connecting us with each other, with all of creation, and ultimately with the One Source, with God.
     Our modern creation story tells a similar tale -- of the Big Bang, and of how all the elements of our bodies were created in that process, so we are all connected, we are all stardust.
       As an aside, it has been amazing to me this week to hear about Bill Nye, the Science Guy’s debate with Ken Ham about evolution verses creationism. It astounds me that in the 21st century this can still be considered debatable. It seems to me that placing religion and science as opposites shows only ignorance about both.
     Which brings us back to light – the light that banishes the darkness of ignorance. Jesus says we are to let our light shine before others, placing it up high where everyone can see it. As Jesus describes it, our light is like a lamp that can illuminate a whole house, or a shining city that provides a beacon, like a lighthouse, to travelers on a darkened road. It’s a light that can make visible how God is working in the world, and so bring hope.
     And all this matters, says Jesus, for the kingdom of heaven, the kin-dom of God. It matters. We matter. What we do matters. We are salt. We are light. Distinctive, precious, necessary, bright. This is how we live into God’s commandments to love God, to love each other. It matters, because without it – if the saltiness of life is gone, if the light is hidden – we will not see the kingdom of heaven here on earth.
     But there is much both within us, and around us, that works against this – that leaches away the saltiness, that covers up our own bright glow. And it can be frightening and alarming, how easily and how quickly we can accept the blandness of life, accept the dimming of our light. Because so often we hear the message – who are we to spice things up? Who are we to shine? And we begin to think: I’m small – just one small person – insignificant. What can I do? Small things. So, it doesn’t matter, anyway. Why bother? Why try?
     And as I was thinking about this, it occurred to me that what Jesus is talking about is integrity. Integrity means being honest and true to what you are – as in having personal integrity. Integrity also means being complete and whole, functioning well – as in a building that has structural integrity. Salt and light are elements that provide spiritual integrity to our world – making it complete, distinctive, living – that make earth function as it functions in heaven. And each of us plays a vital role in that.

     It’s like those balsa-wood bridges kids make in school. Did any of you make those? You take small pieces of balsa wood and glue them together, connect them to build a bridge – and then there are competitions to see how much weight the bridge can hold. I remember them using books – piling them on the bridge. Apparently now more often they use a more accurate weight scale to measure force, but the concept is the same.
     And if the bridge is engineered well, if it’s architecture is sound, if all the small parts are connected, and performing their proper function, then the force or energy put on it just flows through the structure – the bridge holds. But no matter how impressive the bridge looks, if even one necessary piece is out of place, is missing, isn’t thoroughly connected, then the bridge will collapse and isn’t good for anything. Being balsa, it’s probably not even good for kindling.
     It seems to me that the kin-dom of heaven Jesus is talking about is like one of those bridges. We matter, each in our own way supporting the whole – providing spiritual integrity to the structure – making the kin-dom work. And if all the parts are connected in this divine architecture, then the Spirit flows through us unimpeded – and out into the world; and no matter how much stress is put on it, it holds.
     But for this to happen, for us to see the kin-dom at work, for us to play our part, we need to have spiritual integrity ourselves. We need to be true to who we are – we are beloved, we are blessed; we are salt, we are light. Not just on Sundays – but in all aspects of our lives. And we need to be connected to others, in spiritual community, working together for the kin-dom, working for, as the scripture says, the glory of God.
     And this begins by recognizing that Jesus wasn’t giving us a command – you should be salt, you should be light; and Jesus wasn’t talking about sometime in the future – you will be salt, you will be light; and he didn’t make it conditional – if you do this, then you can be salt; if you do that, then you can be light. Jesus said you are salt, you are light. Now. Right now. Just as you are. See it. Recognize it. Grow into it more and more.
     Because the stronger each one of us becomes spiritually, and the stronger our connections to each other in this divine architecture we call the life and the life of faith, the more the Spirit’s energy can flow through us and the kin-dom of heaven with it’s love and compassion and justice becomes more and more real in our world.
     So take a moment and think about what you’ve done today, this week. How have you been salt or light this week? Did you make someone laugh in joy? Did you smile at the cashier in the grocery store until they smiled back? Did you give a gift? Call a friend? As you sat in traffic, did you wave to someone who was waiting, letting them get in front of you? Did you see something that needed doing at home or around the church, and just do it yourself? Did you welcome a guest? Did you make something beautiful, or delicious, or special and share it? Did you volunteer to help? Did you lift up or praise someone else who did something nice, something good? Small things, maybe, but each small thing providing spiritual integrity to our lives, to our world.
       You may not have thought of it that way at the time – but if you can start seeing everything you do through God’s eyes, with God’s vision; see how what you do is salty, how it’s bright; you will see how it’s all connected – connected to your faith, connected to God. This is one of the things we mean when we talk about “spiritual growth,” because the more we see this, the more we will live with spiritual integrity – the more we can find ways to make things more salty, more light. And the kin-dom grows.
        So the next time you sprinkle salt or other seasoning on your food, the next time you turn on a light, let that act remind you of who you are: you are salt, you are light. Amen.

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.

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.

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/

I Wish He Was Wrong Too.

The Huffington Post yesterday posted an opinion piece by Bryan Tannehill, entitled "Is Affirming Christianity Still Relevant?" (click to on the title to read). This post is the beginning of a response.

Tannehill's thesis is that "affirming Christianity as a cultural influencer is more or less dead." His evidence is that affirming churches are declining in numbers, while all the "Christian" messages we see in the media are from homophobic churches and church leaders. "While affirming churches are trying to get their message out, it is no longer being received by the public or decision makers."

When he came to this conclusion, Tannehill "reached out to a number of deeply religious LGBT individuals I knew, hoping somehow that one of them would tell me I was missing something . . . They couldn't . . . and one of them wrote back to me, 'I wish you were wrong.'"

I wish he was wrong too. I wish the "liberal" media presented liberal or affirming Christian voices on the news as often as they feature or discuss hateful, homophobic ones. But even MSNBC, that bastion of the "liberal media," rarely does. This leaves most people with the idea that this is what it means to be a Christian -- to spread hate, hurt, and homophobia.

And many people, faced with this, say to themselves, "If that is what Christianity is about, I want no part of it." Even many people raised in the church say, "If that is what it means to be a Christian, then I guess I'm not a Christian."

But this is not a new phenomena. It was the 80s. I was raised in the church, but from college onward the church, and the religion taught me in my youth, had no obvious relevance to my life. Asked at the time about my religious background, I would label myself an "agnostic." Or to use several current terms: I was "unchurched," a "none."

I was upheld in this position by the media images I saw of Christianity. Anytime Christians were interviewed, or talked about, or shown, or portrayed, at worst they were spouting hate or intolerance, at best they were simple minded objects of derision. I particularly remember seeing good God-fearing church people picketing the Martin Scorsese movie, "The Last Temptation of Christ."

I saw the picketers myself, outside my local theater in Tallahassee. I also saw them on TV, and I remember one reporter asking one of those with signs if they had seen the film, and was told, "No, of course not. I wouldn't watch such heretical filth."

And I thought to myself, "If that is what Christians are like, if that is what it means to be a Christian, I guess I am not a Christian, because I want no part of that."

Then, just because these folks told me I shouldn't go, I went to see the move -- even though I'm not a Martin Scorsese fan. I have issues with it (like it's too long and needed a firmer hand in the editing room), but certain scenes from it stay with me to this day. It continues to be one of the deepest, most personal, expressions of Christian faith, and the experience of faith, that I have ever seen on film.

But my stand on my religion, or lack of same, and my response to Christianity, remained unchanged for years.

It is often difficult to see God at work in the present. It is only when we look back that we see God's footprints in our lives. And so when I look back at my life, I can see the Holy Spirit at work. A nudge here, a crazy idea there. Things I thought I was doing for one reason, only to understand much later that it was really for a completely different reason; it was for me -- part of my own spiritual journey. It was a slow process, an unfolding, that completely changed my life. Much to my surprise, I ended up in seminary, and well -- here I am.

And when I returned to the church, it was to an open and affirming congregation. I remember the Associate Pastor there, who coincidentally had been my youth pastor at a different church, telling me, "There are others who would say I am not a Christian. But I know I'm a Christian. That's what matters."

All of this is to say that while I wish Tannehill was wrong, while I wish the liberal, affirming church's voice was being heard by more people, or even just being made available by the media so more people could hear it, I am less pessimistic than he is. Because of my experience of how the Spirit works.

Throughout history, Christianity has had been at it's worst when it was allied with the dominant power structure -- think the Crusades, think the Inquisition, think the religious wars of Europe, the atrocities committed by missionaries on native peoples, the Salem witch hunts, think of the white churches who supported slavery and later segregation in the American South.

But through it all, there have always been some quieter, more tolerant, Christian voices. Speaking words of God's healing and love and hope. Speaking truth to power -- often with fatal consequences. And gradually, things changed. It wasn't a quick process, it took time. It was an unfolding, a gradual opening of eyes and hearts and minds that led to change. And it is only looking back, with eyes tuned to the Spirit, that we can see God at work in that process.

It is, after all, the model we have in the story of Jesus. It is the foundational story of our religious faith. Jesus had many followers, but they weren't the mainstream -- even within his own tradition. Jesus spoke of love and hope and grace, and practiced an extravagant welcome to all, but even his own disciples often didn't get it. From the margins, Jesus spoke truth to power -- and it got him killed. But that wasn't the end of the story -- the story, and the struggle, continues.

And so it is again. The voices of those in the affirming churches may not be as loud, or given much air time in the public LGBT debate. We may be viewed as the "lunatic fringe" of Christianity, rather than the mainstream, by the media and decision makers. But things are changing -- and they are changing our way. Indeed, after many years of struggling, change is beginning to happen fast. 2013 has been an amazing year -- I mean -- UTAH?

It will be easy to explain all this in reasonable, rational terms that have nothing to do with God, with religion; easy to say these victories happened in spite of religion, not because of it. But me -- I see the Spirit at work in our world. And I wouldn't be at all surprised if, in the future, when we look back at this time in our history with eyes tuned to the Sprit, we can see God's footprints all over it.

So even if Tannehill is right that "affirming Christianity as a cultural influencer is more of less dead," don't count it out. After all, ours is a resurrection faith. Death is never the last word.

Advent Calendar 25 -- Sacred Being

This is the Christmas Eve sermon of Rev. Christine Ng
December 24, 2013

Based on John 1:1-5, 10-14

Why?
Why all this?
Why the baby? Why the manger? Why the shepherds?
Why did God do all this?
Why are we here?
Tonight?

For once,
I have an answer.
I don’t have many answers.
Mine is more a faith
Of living in the questions.

But tonight,
I have an answer.
And the answer is . . .
Love.
Just that.
Love.

People like to say,
“Jesus” or “Christ” –
“is the reason for the season.”
And I agree.
But the reason for Jesus Christ
Is
Love.

God wanted us to know
That we are loved.
All of us.
Each of us.
And this love is ours,
Not because we “deserve” it
Not because we’ve been “good” or “nice”
Like God is Santa Claus
“making a list, and checking it twice”
No
This love is ours –
Period.
This love is ours –
Simply because we are.
We are born of God.
We are full of life.
We are born of light.
Our very being is sacred.

All of us.
The messy, fleshy, physical parts.
The parts we don’t like
when we look in the mirror.
The parts we don’t like
When we look at our lives.
The parts that need to be fed.
that need to be cleaned up.
The parts that cry.
as a baby cries,
the parts that smile,
that laugh with glee,
And sing with joy,
And curl up in contentment
And peace.

All of us,
our very being,
is sacred.
And Jesus, God-with-us, in the flesh,
Is proof.

But the problem,
As John writes in his gospel,
The problem is that we don’t recognize it.

All through the Bible,
In story after story,
God tries to tell us that we are loved.
And in story after story,
We human beings keep turning away.
Keep hiding.
Keep running from God.

There is something in us,
That holds tight to the fear
That if God really saw us,
Really knew us,
All of us,
God would reject us.
That our sin, whatever we perceive it to be,
Is too great to be forgiven.
And so we cling
To our own particular darkness.

But in story after story in the Bible,
No matter what we humans do,
God keeps coming back.
Trying again and again.
In love. In forgiveness.
Hoping that this time
This time we’ll get it.
We are worthy.
We are beloved.

Jesus is that message and the messenger.
The Word made flesh.
The Word that is life.
Life with all it’s mess and beauty,
Like the mess of a stable,
And the beauty of starlight.
Life,
With all its mistakes and joys.
Wrong roads taken,
And new life begun.
Life. All life.
Because everything that comes into being, we are told,
Comes into being through the Word.
Everything. Everyone. You. Me. Sacred.

The Word comes to us, each Christmas.
The Word that is light.
Light for all people.
All people. Not just some.
Jesus is that message and the messenger.
To you.

No matter who you are.
No matter what darkness you cling to.
No matter what fear holds you back.
No matter if others may try
to define or exclude you.

The Light is for you.
The Light is you.
You are a sacred being too.

Why Christmas?
Why did God send Jesus?
So we could always know that we,
We humans,
each of us,
We are God’s children.
Not just Jesus. Each of us.
We are loved.
You are beloved.
You.

Jesus, the Word,
Not just spoken,
But sung,
As angels sung to announce the holy birth,
Spreading the good news,
Spreading the message,
Spreading the Word.
As we sing,
Each Christmas.

Or as one writer puts it,*
Jesus is “God’s love song,
Singing life into the world’s babble,
Chaos, and voices of death.”

And what a difference it makes,
If we really believe that.
If we hear the angels sing,
And understand that they sing for us.
If we really believe the miracle of Christmas.
Love.
Love that comes into the world,
In human form.
Love that comes into the world,
In us, through us.
It changes how we see ourselves.
It changes how we see each other.
It changes how we see God.
It changes everything.

If we, like Jesus, really believe
the message of Christmas,
The we are loved,
Born of God,
Then we too become
The message and the messenger.
To others in our world
who need that message too,
But have forgotten God’s love song,
Full of grace and truth.
The song of love,
sung at their birth.
Or those who still can't hear
The angels sing
for them.

And that’s why we're here.
Tonight.
To be reminded.
In a world
Where the messages to us
too often are words
of despair, and cynicism,
And pain,
we need that Word,
that love song.
We can’t hear it too much.
We need to hear again
that we matter.
That what happens to us matters.
That we are loved.
And we need to share that message
With others.

Jesus is God’s love song to us.
His very Sacred Being
Sings to our sacred being.
This Christmas,
Let the Word that is life
Sing into your heart.
Listen, hear the angels sing.
Know
That they sing for you.
Child born of God.
Beloved.

And when you hear,
Sing along.
Amen.


*Thanks to Craig Satterlee

Advent Calendar 24: Do You Hear What I Hear?

Now we are here. On the threshold of Christmas.
It's a time when people gather,
to share the magic of Christmas.
It's a time for angels
to sing to us
of sacred things.
But do we hear them?
Or do the sounds of shopping malls
and crowded grocery stores
and honking horns on busy streets
drown the out?
Just remember,
Angels do a lot of things,
only one of them is sing.
Look for them,
let them speak to you
in sometimes surprising ways.
Do you hear what I hear?
Listen,
and know.
It's Christmas.
Listen,
and
Pray for peace
people everywhere.

Listen and watch this music video for Third Day's version of  "Do You Hear What I Hear." Maybe hear it in a different way. Did you know it was originally written as an an anti-war song?

Advent 23: Sacred Knowing

Yesterday we began our week of Sacred Knowing by watching our children participate in a Christmas Pageant.  All agreed they did a wonderful job!  We were so proud of all of them and our hearts were warmed by their sweet faces dressed up as barn animals and Biblical characters.  It was a great Sunday for all.

It may have just been a "coincidence" that our week of Sacred Knowing in our Advent series happened to fall on the same Sunday we now call "Children's Christmas Sunday," but as a Christian, I don't really believe in coincidences.  At first, you may not see the connection between children and Sacred Knowing, but when you watch them perform the Christmas pageant, it becomes clear.  Children are vessels of Sacred Knowing.

Children simply know that there is a God who loves them.  They know deeply what a special and sacred time Christmas is, and they feel it all the way down to their toes.  And while I'm making a Excel spreadsheet of all the gifts I have and haven't bought, checking off which ones have been wrapped, I see my son marveling at the beauty of our neighbor's Christmas lights, and seeing that sacred beauty through his eyes reminds me of what children know and I too often forget: this is sacred time, sacred space, sacred story, sacred knowing.  Children know what Jesus and Christmas is all about.

So may you become, this Christmas, as Jesus said, "like a little child:" one with sacred knowing this time of year.

If you would like to see all the photos from our Family Sunday, the full album will be available this morning, including your pictures with Santa, on our website www.centraluccdallas.org.  To view and download photos, click on "Media" on the menu bar, and then select "Photo Gallery."  Or click this link.

Advent Calendar 22: Sacred Knowing

"The angel said, 'Don't be afraid! Look! I bring good news to you -- wonderful, joyous news for all people.'" -- Luke 2:1-15

        When we honor our own wisdom, our own deep knowing, we acknowledge the work of the sacred within us. Our own sacred knowing. When the angels appeared to the shepherds in their fields so long ago, the shepherds had a frightening moment of disbelief that turned into a deep knowing -- knowing that they must make a journey to see the newborn Jesus. The shepherds were just ordinary people, doing their ordinary work like they did every day. And like those ordinary people long ago, we too can listen for the sacred knowing within us, calling us to change our plans, change our very lives, and seek what matters most.
         In Advent Calendar 1, I wrote about a song I used to sing to my baby daughter. It's a song about that sacred knowing, "It's In Every One Of Us." Today, as we move ever closer to Christmas, listen to a version of that song, and listen for the sacred knowing within you. What do you need to do, where and how do you need to seek where the holy is being born in you, in your life, in your world?
 
"It's In Every One of Us" by David Pomerantz

Advent Calendar 21: Winter Solstice

          Today is a special, sacred space and time. it is the Winter Solstice, which has been considered sacred in many cultures for millennia. It is a sacred space because it is a threshold -- a place between. Today is the shortest day of the year, and the longest night. Beginning tomorrow, the days will lengthen. More light will shine. Today marks the change.
          Historically, the Winter Solstice probably had more to do with making Christmas December 25th than some factual record that it was the date of Jesus' birth. It's appropriate, right? It reflects our experience that with Jesus light has come into the world. And that light touches all the dark places in our lives, in our world, with grace.
         A friend of mine posted a link on Facebook to an article on Newgrange in Ireland, a prehistoric site made so that at sunrise of the shortest day of the year, the winter solstice, a a beam of sunlight illuminates the floor of the inner chamber.
http://www.irishcentral.com/roots/The-magic-of-the-tombs-at-Newgrange-on-the-winter-solstice-184329441.html

How evocative this is of how this day is a threshold, sacred, where the light reaches out to the darkness, and illuminates and blesses the shadowed corners of our lives, the dark spaces inside us, as it illuminates the sacred space of this chamber. And I am struck that the light of this day doesn't make this inner chamber sacred, it is already sacred, but with the light that sacred space can be seen and experienced. And so it is with us. 

          May God's light touch and bless the dark corners in your life, this Winter Solstice and in the lengthening days that follow.