Wanda, Trayvon, and the Lord's Prayer

I met Wanda about a year ago, when she and her family came to worship at St. Luke's (the congregation I serve in Charlotte, NC). St. Luke's has a reputation (and I have found it to be completely warranted) for being incredibly hospitable. In fact, I tell people "If you do not want to be immediately loved and embraced, then this may not be the place for you."

 

How Wanda and her family ended up here, is a story that I still get angry about. They had worshiped at other places and not only did they not feel welcomed, they felt un-welcomed (Not un-welcomed by pastors, necessarily - although sometimes by pastors; but by members of congregations). Talking about this with her is actually how our relationship began. You see, Wanda is black and her husband is white, and their children are a beautiful mixture of both. Now...to be clear, I do not believe that there was ever any open animosity directed toward her family (I may be wrong about this), but there was a "feel." Anyhow, while I would most likely have "written-off" church if I were them, they just kept looking...and now, here they are among our growing, colorful gathering at St. Luke's.

 

The first time she and I met outside of church  was at her work (you know, your typical "It's-been-wonderful-having-you-worship-with-us-let's-get-together-and-have-a-cup-of-coffee-and-chat" pastor thing). She is a professor at Johnson C. Smith University (one of the oldest Historically Black Colleges and Universities in the country. Anything I know about such things, she has taught me.). She - among other things - is professor of dance (which, if you know me, made me fall immediately in love with her! Don't tell my husband...hehehe.). So, we met on the campus and had coffee in a great coffee shop there. It was the first time I'd ever been on the campus of a black college. I was immediately aware of my "whiteness." I don't know whether or not she was.

 

We ordered coffee.

She told me the story of their feeling unwelcomed at other churches (actually, it was her girls who felt it most). And we just started talking.

I have no idea what possessed me (actually, I'm pretty sure that it was the Holy Spirit that possessed me), but I just asked all kinds of questions about what it's like to be black. And she let me ask them on that very first day. And she still does! It's not that we always talk about race, but it is so wonderful to have someone who encourages the conversation and cheers for me, as I gain strength to speak the truth to power. When those conversations get going, I spend a lot of time saying "Really?" "Really? People still act like that?" "You are kidding me!" "I don't get it...I just don't get it." And she just smiles her wonderful smile as if to say, "Oh, dear sweet, utopic Sara (Apparently - according to the online dictionary - I made up the word "utopic." What I mean, is seeing everything as if it is Utopia)." I always end up saying something like "You will tell me if I am being offensive, won't you?" She hasn't done it yet, but she promises that she will.

 

Anyhow, over the course of this year, we have become friends.

 

Our schedules have both been a little crazy this summer, so yesterday was the first time in a while that we could get together for lunch. And after catching up on family life in each of our households, I just blurted out in one continuous stream, "I'm so angry about the whole Trayvon Martin thing, and I don't know what to do! And here I am sitting with my white-privilege skin talking to you, and I cannot imagine how you must feel! Aren't you pissed (Sorry, that's the actual word that I used. If you are completely offended, you can just exit the blog)? I feel so helpless. I cannot believe this has happened!" She said something like, "Yes, I'm angry. More sad, really...but not surprised." I said, "Are you serious?!?! How can you not be surprised about this?!?!"

 

And we talked and talked and talked.

 

This past Sunday's gospel lesson (Luke 11.1-13) included Luke's version of the Lord's Prayer. In my sermon, I said something like "If the lesson stopped with the end of that prayer (11.1-4), I'd be perfectly happy. But it doesn't."

 

It's a really hard gospel lesson for me, because it says things like ask, seek, knock...and what you ask for will be given to you, and what you look for you will find, and the door that is closed will be open (11.9-13). But, I know too many people who ask for perfectly obvious and right things (things that I AM CERTAIN are in line with "thy will be done"), and they get no answer.

 

The face that always comes to mind when I hear this lesson is that of the young woman who shared her story of being beaten and sexually molested her entire childhood even as she prayed and prayed and prayed that it would end, and it never did. To tell her that God answered her prayer, and his answer was "no," is a lie! Maybe worse is to tell her the lie that her abuse is somehow part of God's great plan (which is another way to tell her that God somehow "willed" it for her). So, I struggle with this text. I struggle with the on-going reality of racism and abuse of power and hatred and manipulation - so that the least and the lost and the last continue to be voiceless (not only the Trayvons of the world, but all those who are "little and lost"...For example, those who will have difficulty finding "valid" identification and so will have difficulty voting in future elections.).  And I get angry.

 

But I continue to pray (perhaps out of habit, as much as anything else - thanks Mom and Dad)...I continue to say "Our Father, hallowed be your name" (Luke 1.2).

Sometimes, that's about as far as I can get in that prayer, before I too am angry or sad about the "state of affairs" in the world to pray any further.

My friend, Mark, used to complain about how antiquated the word "hallowed" is. And he is right...It is antiquated. Maybe I'll find a better way to say it. What it means is "let us live in such a way that your name - O, Creator God - is held in honor."

 

For brief meetings and lunches, and in the safety and seclusion of restaurants and college campuses and church sanctuaries, Wanda and I live in such a way that God's name is held in honor. And we actually discuss how to live "God-honoringly" in our world - where doing so may not be as "safe." 

 

But, if I am honest, that doesn't feel like much. And I still feel defeated and angry. But, I suppose, you are reading this too. And maybe you can string together such times in your place in the world. And for more and more moments and in more and more places we can dare to live in such a way that God's name is held in honor.

 

Mary, Martha, and the Dining Hall Dance

My family is coming home on Sunday (or Monday...I'm not sure, yet). Many of you know that they have been gone since the end of June. This is the third summer in a row that my husband, Cliff, and our children, Lucy (8 y/o) and Henry (7 y/o) have spent at least a month at Lutheridge (the camp I talked about in my previous blog).

 

Cliff and I were on summer staff at the camp when we met (we were both working there for the summer of 1999. I know..."camp couple." It is kind of sweet.). He was a camper there for his growing-up years, a counselor for his young adult years, a program assistant for a couple years, and the manager of the kitchen for a few years (somewhere in there, he owned a restaurant in Charleston, and cooked in a restaurant in New York City).

 

Now, for a month each summer, he goes back and "choreographs" the 30-minute dance that happens in the dining hall three times each day, as hundreds of campers are fed - family style. And our kids are "official" camp kids (with the name tags to prove it!).

 

This week is Christmas in July week. So, in addition to being the choreographer, I understand that Cliff has also taken on the role of the Abominable Snowman. I am told, that at at least one meal a day he dresses up in an Abominable Snowman costume and chases mis-fit toys through the dining hall (I cannot wait to see pictures!).

 

Having been blessed by his ease and willingness for all these years, it is only natural then, that any time issues of hospitality arise in scripture, I think of my husband. Those of you who know him, know that you will be hard-pressed to find anyone as naturally hospitable as him. He would host people at our home every day, if I'd let him. Me, on the other hand...Well, it takes me a while to get "psyched-up" for the event (I know that that may not be the best thing for a pastor to reveal about herself...sorry.). But not Cliff. I worry myself (ala "Martha"), until I refuse to worry anymore, and just kind of shut down. I could try to convince you that, at that point, I am assuming a "Mary" posture as I sit quietly in the corner looking aloof and contemplative - but, that would be a lie...I am just trying to get myself together and talk myself into re-engaging.

 

So, when I read the story of Mary and Martha (Luke 10:38-42), I usually come away feeling like a bit of loser (actually, I feel like a real loser) - because I do not begin to approximate Mary with her instant spirituality and boldness - taking the place of a disciple, sitting at Jesus' feet (whom I always picture with a little glow around her head, like a halo...Anybody remember how they used to use "soft light" on Cybill Shepherd in the TV show Moonlighting? I imagine Mary always looking like that!). And neither do I begin to approximate Martha. Next time we see each other, remind me to tell you the "Lucy and the Spaghettios" story. Suffice it to say, the thought of me preparing a complete meal, suitable for guests, is quite a stretch of the imagination.

 

So, it is a true marvel for me to watch Cliff as he moves around our kitchen getting ready for folks to come, or serving them while they are there (Martha-esque).

 

He listens and looks and pays attention (Mary-esque), and makes "special" things for this or that person, and pulls other things off of the plate of this or that person, because he remembers you and your story and what you like or do not like.

 

And as he does it, he seems filled with joy!

 

And, in the dining hall, he is almost giddy (making sure the serving goes smoothly, while he remembers which kid has celiac disease or who is a vegetarian, or whatever)! Now, whether or not he is actually in his Snowman costume during the meal, or if that comes while the dishes are being cleared, I'm not sure. But still...it's pretty impressive.

 

If I were to talk to Cliff about all of this - he would stop me and say something like "You're not a loser, Babe. I do the Dining Hall Dance. You just do a different one. We all do. (Okay..."Dining Hall Dance" is probably not a phrase he would use. That's really more a "me" phrase)...The trick," he would say, "isn't worrying about how you are going to keep all the dishes spinning at the same time. The trick (not the right word, but the best one I can find right now) is knowing what to pay attention to, focusing there, and letting the rest take care of itself" - which is really what the story of Mary and Martha is all about. Stepping into the room, or the dining hall, or whatever situation presents itself and attending to what matters most before you begin to attend to anything else. For Mary and Martha, and for you and me, what we seek to notice FIRST (before we worry about the dishes or dinner or where our Abominable Snowman costume is) is where Jesus is in each of those settings - and in every setting/person/event we encounter. Once we have our eyes fixed there, once our action flows from there//from that source//from that love, every single encounter changes...even Spaghettios begins to taste like a feast.

Won't you be; Won't you please; Please won't you be my neighbor?

Our good friend Adrian (whom we met Charlotte - but who is Argentinean) was in Little Rock, Arkansas competing in the Sangham Tae Kwon Do World Championships, last week. He won first place in forms, and combat weapons, and second in sparring. He traveled to Little Rock from Argentina to compete. We are super, super proud of him. The story of how we met is far too long for a blog (but it is one of my favorite - so I'll tell you next time I see you), but suffice it to say that our family has become very close to him (as well as his cousin)...So, when we found out that he was coming to the World Championships, we decided to get him from Little Rock to Charlotte (NC), then to Asheville - to surprise the kids, who are spending most of the summer hanging out at a camp called Lutheridge, (one of the best places in the world!!) while my husband volunteers to help feed campers in the dining hall. When we sent Adrian home to Argentina in December, we did not know when we would see him again. It was very hard for the kids, and for us.

So...HOORAY!!! He is here! When the kids saw him, they squealed and screamed and ran right passed me to him and he swept them up in his arms and twirled and laughed.

And now, they are busy showing him off and making crafts! And he is experiencing "camp life" for the very first time. And all he can say is "This is amazing...This is amazing!"
"What's amazing Adrian?"
"This place...These people...They smile and wave and look at me and talk to me. They do not know me at all. They have never seen me. I don't even speak the same language they do."

Now, you have to imagine that all of this is said in the most lovely, hesitant, yet almost perfect English - accompanied by a lot of "ums," "how do you say?"s.

"What do you mean, 'they look at' you?"
"They look at me. They see me. They pay attention. Most people do not do this. Most people just walk by one another. Do you know?"
"Yes Adrian, I know."

This past Sunday's gospel lesson was the story of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37). A story that, in large part, is about looking and seeing...taking time to get near enough to the other to begin to know them. The word "neighbor" as in the lawyer's question in verse 29: "Who is my neighbor?" means "to be near to." Neighbors are those who risk enough to get a little closer, to pay attention, to see the other.

That's what Adrian is experiencing in this place, for these couple days - he is experiencing a neighborhood.

My friend Mary is one of the Program Directors here at Lutheridge (along with her husband Tim). Every summer it happens that there is a week or two that are especially busy, and she will put out the call for "cavalry" (help from former counselors who have entered the full-time work force, and can't give the entire summer, but who can give a week or so for "cavalry" work). Usually before they come, they post something on Facebook about how excited they are to be coming here. This past week one cavalry person posted on Facebook something like, "I can't wait to leave the real world behind for a week, and escape to camp." To which Mary replied, "You have that wrong...this IS the real world."

Here's the thing, sisters and brothers...The world God intends is a neighborhood where all draw near to one another and pay attention and smile and talk and care (and perhaps even spend some time making crafts together!).




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Conflictive Peace

Jesus says: “Whatever house you enter first say, ‘Peace to this house!’”

 

Elaine Heath (professor of Evangelism at SMU) says, in Feasting on the Word: “The gospel of peace will take the seventy into direct conflict with Satan, whose power falls before [it].” She goes on to say, “The peace the apostles are to offer is more than a greeting or demeanor. Peace is representative of the kingdom of God…Ironically, this peace is conflictive, because it arouses the hostility of demonic powers.”

 

David Tiede (emeritus president and emeritus professor of New Testament at Luther Seminary) says that this declaration of peace “is an official declaration of the presence of the kingdom, and it confronts the people of the house with God’s salvation and authority. It is a word of blessing. Luke could never conceive of a form of Christina evangelism which opened with a threat…this peace [carries the full effect] of God’s presence.”

 

Moreover (these are my thoughts – so you may want to “grain of salt” this…but I believe it is faithful), at the proclamation of “peace” evil powers begin to get nervous. Given no other mission but to heal, proclaim, peace and announce the presence of the kingdom (which is really a manifestation of healing and peace, after all), Satan falls! And we know this is true. It happens all the time (the Greek here, about the falling of Satan, has the sense of Satan’s falling and falling and falling over and over…someday to be finally fallen). Stand in the face of evil and speak peace, and watch the evil begin to shake in its proverbial boots.

 

Stand in the face of the evil of inequality and insist on equality and watch that evil get nervous and push back and try to shut you up!

 

Stand in the face of the evil of exploitative business practices and insist on fairness and watch that evil get nervous and throw all kinds of excuses and accusations your way.

 

Stand in the face of the evil of discriminatory practices (whether against our LGBT brothers and sisters, our un-employed or under-employed brothers and sisters, our chronically homeless brothers and sisters, our  mentally ill brothers and sisters, our improperly-documented brothers and sisters – name any marginalized group) and insist on justice and grace and mercy and kindness and love (in essence, point out the presence of the Kingdom of God) and watch as that evil gets nervous and begins to quake and get red in the face.

 

The proclamation of peace is no sappy or sweet proclamation. It is challenging and daring.

 

 

I went to Raleigh yesterday to attend the Moral Monday Rally. And I posted this picture with the notation that I was at the Rally (I hope it actually posts…I’ll be impressed with my own self if I can do it!). Over the weeks, Moral Monday has grown from a gathering of a couple dozen to a couple thousand. While the state legislature is in session, people (mostly people of faith) have been gathering on Mondays to “bear witness,” and to remind our elected officials (many, if not most, of whom espoused their faith in order to get elected, that Jesus’ first concern is for the least and lost and last. The picture is of a child holding a sign that is bigger than he or she is – can’t tell whether it is a boy or girl b/c the sign is covering up the child. It says, “Live so that when your children think of fairness, caring and integrity, they think of you.” BTW, I did get the parents’ permission to take the picture and post.).

 

The vast majority of the responses I have gotten – having to do with the sign and with my attending the rally – have been wonderfully supportive. One though – while supportive – made me so sad. A friend encouraged me, but said that I needed to be careful, because I may have to “pay” (my word, not his) for my involvement. I know his story, it has cost him a lot to be an open and active follower of Jesus (And he is a pastor!!! Crazy that it should be so hard, right!?!). But, I’m pretty sure that we, who claim to follow Jesus, don’t have any other choice but to bear the Kingdom into every setting and to insist on peace, even (perhaps especially) in the face of things that threaten the least and the lost and the last, and maybe even us.

Stand Strong AGAINST Hellfire and Brimstone...Jesus did.

Looking at Luke 9:51-62, did anyone else notice that the people Jesus rebukes is NOT the Samaritans who reject him, but his own disciples who want to call down fire to "consume" them for their rejection of Jesus? Check out this clip from the movie Saved (let's hope you can actually connect to youtube from this link...if not cut and paste):  

http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=umLUKBlpyoY&desktop_uri=%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DumLUKBlpyoY

What Jesus rebukes is the use of violence (in all its forms)...Which, of course, challenges all of our assumptions...in fact, it challenges the entire way our society is set up. You offend me, I offend you. You hurt me, I hurt you. You embarrass me, I embarrass you. You abuse me, I abuse you. You bomb us, we bomb you. Those are the very things, actions, attitudes Jesus rebukes (by the way...Jesus also rebukes the wind, the rain, Peter, and Satan!). 

One commentator (Culpepper) offers this reflection: "This episode [in Luke's gospel] allows us to study the temptation to use violence to achieve right. Does insult entitle one to do injury? ...The disciples mistakenly thought they could achieve his [Jesus'] ends by violence. How often have those who claimed to be following Christ repeated the mistake of these first disciples?"

Or, to repeat a statement from Jonathon Swift in 1711: "They have enough religion to hate, but not enough to love."

Here's the thing,  using Jesus - ANYTHING having to do with Jesus - as a weapon is inherently inconsistent! It just does NOT work. BUT, what most people think they know of the church (and what they think they know about people who claim the name "Christian") is precisely this...That we will threaten with hellfire and brimstone all who refuse/reject Jesus. The gospel is NEVER a weapon  (which is why I've taken to call myself a "follower of Jesus." I can get a lot further in conversation with those turned off by church/Christianity, by letting them know that I try hard to live as much like Jesus lived, as I can).

Just think of the wars that have been fought in the name of Christianity//the furtherance of the church. It's ludicrous! No wonder people want nothing to do with the church. When "God hates fags" gets more airtime than the beautiful stories of love and embrace which we have to share, we should hardly be surprised. 

We have a different story to tell. Jesus over and over and over again insists on LOVE...not only of neighbors, but of enemies! (NB: Just some examples in Luke... 6:27, 32, 35, 10:27...I'm not making this stuff up!). THIS IS THE STORY OF THE GOSPEL. No, to hellfire. Yes, to love!

Yesterday at St. Luke's (the church I am serving), we - like so many other churches - had the kids who participated in Vacation Bible School sing a song they had learned during VBS. The kids at St. Luke's sang a song called "Stand Strong." Repetitive (to say the least), the lyrics say "Stand together, stand forever, we will stand strong. Standing up for God each day, we will stand strong." Its repetition is its beauty. It gets stuck in your head and you will find yourself singing it all day. That's a good thing, because we all (maybe our children are our best hope to change the world) need to have stuck in our heads that what we (followers of Jesus) stand for is God and God's love.

Stand strong!

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Sent from my iPad