A "Word Out of Place" at the Festival of Homiletics

"You're going where? To do what?" "I'm going to Nashville for the Festival of Homiletics." "Really? There is a festival for that?!" "Well, yeah." 

"Are  you, at least, going to go to Opryland while you're  there?" "Yeah...probably not."

Seems that there were a few people who did not understand my excitement about this festival 

(you may be among them...you can admit it...It's okay.).

I had the opportunity//great blessing last week of attending the aforementioned Festival of Homiletics. It is an annual gathering of about 2000 folks (I went to one about 12 years ago...I will not wait so long to go to another.), most of whom preach on a regular basis ("Homiletics" is really just a fancy word for "preaching." There is some specific definition that I used to know, but don't anymore. Basically, it is just "preaching."). We were a gathering of interdenominational clergy-types, who share a common - albeit baffling - calling. Proclaiming God's word//telling God's story in a world that most often chooses to believe a different story. The presenters were all of those theologians and preachers whose work feeds us - or, at least, it feeds me - week in and week out (the really big names in the field: Walter Brueggeman - after whom my cat is named...I actually built up the nerve to tell him that. He looked at me like I was a lunatic...but seemed oddly honored (?); Barbara Brown Taylor; Mark Hanson; David Lose; Anna Carter Florence; Barbara Lundbladt; Craig Barnes; Brian McLaren; Phyllis Tickle; Diana Butler Bass...These are really big names to preaher-types, and sometimes I depend on them and their writing, maybe more than I should, for sustenance and sanity). For a week, they fed me. For a week, I got to hear sermons (I never - or very rarely - get to hear a sermon.). And I sat and soaked it all in and sang and prayed and was filled again for the journey. They helped me realize that I am not losing my mind. That what we do is difficult. They shared their own stories of "process" (how they approach the task of preaching), which, of course, is always helpful. But most helpful for me, they shared their own stories of exhaustion and frustration coupled with determination coupled with hope. They were, for me, cheerleaders, encouraging and supporting and insisting that what we do matters. And it matters for the sake of the world.  

One man - David  Lose - began his lecture showing a picture from the movie The Matrix, of two hands - one holding a blue pill, the other holding a red  pill  (I can't remember which color is which - I know that some of you will remember....But the guy in the movie can choose to take the one pill to learn the truth or the other to keep living in the illusion of the  Matrix). Dr. Lose's point was that most of the world chooses to hold on to the illusion//the Matrix pill, and that our (read "preacher's") task is to tell the truth, even when it will challenge everything folks think is "reality."

Walter Brueggemann  encouraged us to be sensitive to the process of grief...which I always assumed I was. But then he reminded me that it is our entire world that needs to grieve...grieve the fact that the way we "do things" isn't working...grieve the fact that we will never "go back" to the way things were...that, in fact, resurrection only comes when there is total death, and until we face the death (which necessitates grief...which, understandably, none of us wants to do) we will not be able to live into the resurrection (This, I believe, is a particular challenge to our country, as we spend so much time and energy trying to go BACK to the "good old days" instead of of letting that die and working to move forward toward something new.). He reminded me that the only way to survive grief is to walk through it together...with one another (This, too, is especially difficult for us, since we all like to appear so independent and happy and "fine" all the time). 

My favorite, though, was Barbara Lundbladt. She said two things that I am holding on to. First, she said that we (preachers) have to paint a picture of hope that is stronger than the world's picture of despair. Then, she said that we need to be brave enough to be a "word out of place." She preached a sermon on Isaiah 35, which is a chapter of hope in the middle of chapters of chaos and threat. It makes no sense that chapter 35 is stuck where it is in the book of Isaiah. All that surrounds it is gloom and doom...And then, "The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad, and the desert shall rejoice and blossom; like the crocus it shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice with joy and singing." It is a "word out of place." 

This is what I think...I think that the world really knows that it needs to choose the truth and leave the matrix, but we are too afraid of the grief that we will have to endure if we admit the death that is surrounding us. But without that grief-work, we will not live into the resurrection that is ours. So, we need to BE a "word out of place" painting a picture of hope (in all we do and say..which means being brave) that is stronger than the other words that surround us. And, that, I believe is the job of the church. We are the only ones with this story of Resurrection from death. 

It's not always an easy story to tell. And it can be exhausting to keep at it. But, I have a renewed energy for the task. And I will keep telling you the Story and you keep telling me. And together we will be the "word out of place."

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