It is a popular question to ask pastors or religious leaders in general: "How do I know God's will for my life?" or "How can I know what God wants me to do?" Just as folks go to the doctor to figure out what is wrong with them when they are sick, it's pastors that suddenly get so popular when life's confusing crossroads hit.

For me, when I get asked questions like this, I usually feel inadequate (not because I didn't go to seminary or take lots of pastoral care classes) but because it is as if the questioner is asking me to play the role of God in their life, telling them what they are to do as they face difficult decisions.

At heart, I see the role of a pastor to be that like a spiritual director, but even a deeper relationship than that a counselor has with their clients: an intentional relationship between a people and one called out to lead of figuring out what it means to find the presence of God in community.  And so, the pastor still serves in the role of learner as much as he or she does as teacher. Thus, for any pastor to give a specific answer to "This is what God wants from you" with complete authority can often be off base and misstated. One of my favorite prayers from Thomas Merton speaks of the fact that as much as we think we are doing God's will, we may not be.

So, if even pastor types can not speak definitively for God with absolute certainty, then how can we know? How can we discern God's steps for us when we reach junctures of big decisions?

I would have once answered this question by saying large amounts of time need to be offered up to God sitting quietly in the woods or taking residence in prayer closets. I would have said that if you diligently search the scriptures, an answer from the pages would come. Or, I would have said that if the decision leads to more folks coming to know of Christ, then of course it was the right one (can you tell I used to be an evangelical?).

But, as I've grown in faith, I've come to see a way of discernment that doesn't always have to include words shouted from the heavens with my name in them or having moments of great epiphany in prayer. It's actually much more messy than this. Sometimes as much as we think we know, we don't. My spiritual director always says meaning is revealed (to which I find frustrating of course).

Sometimes, actually often times, discernment for me now looks like the simple practice of putting one step in front of another and seeing what comes. Knowing that as I go down a path, the Spirit can be trusted to show me where I am to be and where red flags are shouting "stay away, go the other direction."

Sometimes discernment comes in a word of a friend that I can't seem to get out of my mind.

Sometimes discernment comes as intuition that I believe from my heart that can't be shaken, no matter what occurs.

Sometimes discernment comes as pieces of a life direction falling together in ways that I know I could never dream up or orchestrate on my own even if I tried.

Though I am often not much help to those who come to me seeking "the answer" to their troubles, hopefully what I can do as a pastor, as a friend, as a wife is to listen, to say what I hear and hope for the Spirit to make clear what needs to rise up and what needs to fall away. Because after all, this is what faith community is at its best. For as much as I can be this for fellow travelers on the journey, I need the same folks to do this for me too.

What does discernment look like? It looks like me walking alongside you, you walking alongside me with open eyes, attentive feet and ears to hear "This is the way, walk in it."

Grow Up!

Hebrews 5:12-6:3

In the lectionary cycle, we are reaching the end of the time of year that is named "ordinary time." Next week, we will celebrate a service of remembrance of Thanksgiving and then the following Sunday, November 27th will begin Advent. (Hard to believe we are at Advent again, isn't it?)

Though "Ordinary time" isn't the most exciting descriptor of course of all the good work we've been exploring together in worship since we celebrated Pentecost Sunday in June, it's the liturgical season we stay in the longest in any given year.

Ever wonder why the color of the pulpit cloth and my stole is green and has been green for seemingly forever (unless you are Ernie and just noticed the color change last week?). Green is a color that symbolizes growth, and summer and early fall-- the time of year that ordinary season occurs every year-- it's a time in the life of the church to put all our attention on "spiritual growth" without the highs and lows of the religious holidays such as Epiphany, Good Friday, Easter or Christmas to distract us. During ordinary time, we are to devote ourselves to the business of deepening our faith in Jesus Christ as Lord.

All of this to say, when reflecting about the fact that our "ordinary" (aka growth season) in the church is nearly over, I could help but take the opportunity and go off the lectionary for this week and do a check-up of sorts about how it is that we are doing in the "growing up" portion of our own spiritual lives. Drawing upon some wisdom from the writer of the book of Hebrews-- a book we don't hear too many sermons from in a given year given its complexity and unknown authorship, but has much to teach us about the richness and the beauty of what following Christ is all about.

Let me interrupt your regularly schedule sermon narration to ask for a true confession time: are any of you willing to admit that you still are holding onto an object of sentimental value from your childhood? It could be an old lunch box, your favorite stuffed animal or that leather jacket that you just had to have your senior year of high school but is now five sizes too small with no possible way that you could find your way into anytime soon? If so, feel free to raise your hands now.

If I were to make my own true confession it would be that I still have a baby blanket that my great-grandmother made me for me. It's a carefully crocheted in pastel colors that has stood the test of time, these 31 years of my life. Mu, as she was affectionately known on my father's side of the family, died when I was a year old, so though I have no memories of her, the blanket is still special to me-- even though as you can obviously see, I am no longer a baby in need of a blanket.

Why is it that we hold on to such things-- long past their time of practical usefulness to us? The obvious answer is the emotional comfort the continuity of such objects in our lives provide.

But in the case of my blanket and your  fill in the blank items as well, we keep them close for comfort's sake, but in doing so, might we also have our "growing up" stumped a little in the process? Do we really NEED such things from our childhood?

In the same way, the preacher of our text for this morning, is too trying to find a way to say to his congregation a word or two about the "growing up" that he feels they need to do as well, letting go of what had worked for them in the past.

I don't know if along the way in your educational life, you ever encountered a teacher that was known to challenge their students: challenge in the sense of motivating students beyond originally felt was one's capacity for study. Well, if you have had such an experienced or journeyed with your child in such a hard experience, then you have an idea already what the Hebrews preacher is up too.

If we were to read on past where our lection ends today at verse two of chapter six, soon we'd be in some of the most complex passages in all of the New Testament. Passages which speak to the nature of some of Christianity's most important concepts: faith, the place of Jesus in relation to God and even about who angels are.

Like any good teacher, the Preacher of Hebrews knew, that if we went over his congregation's head and just jumped into all of this deep stuff, without some good hook, they'd soon stop listening and maybe even fall asleep during the end of the sermon. So, this is where the words of our text come in. Look with me at verse 12: "By this time you ought to be teachers, but instead you need someone to teach you the ABC of God's oracles over again."

Though at first glance this verse seems to sound like a lecture given from a lofty pulpit with a harsh tone, it isn't actually. It is a rhetorical strategy used by the preacher/ teacher to say: "Listen up friends. I am about to tell you about some of the most amazing teaching you've ever heard, but you aren't ready. So I won't."

The hope of the words that follow, then is persuasion for the congregation to listen up, to prove their teacher wrong. That, yes, really yes, they could handle it. They were ready for more. To say with the nods on their heads that yes, wanted to journey with the preacher into conversation about the deep waters of faith.

Because if we understand the type of teaching in Christian community commonplace among converts at this time, we realize that much like our regime of offering Sunday School for children and adults, the intended audience of this sermon had also been through instructional teaching for a year or sometimes three at least. These listeners were not those who had never been around Christianity before and need a 101 lesson. Rather, they at least had heard the basics.

But, even with this true, the preacher says, in 6:1: "Let us stop discussing the rudiments of Christianity." What does this mean? Doesn't everyone need a refresher course every now and then?

But the preacher is saying: the time of hashing and rehashing over the same "Jesus was important teacher. Jesus died for my sins. Jesus rose again which is why we celebrate Easter..." just can't last forever. As good as it was to know and hear the basics, life in the ways of God was so much more adventurous than this. They were asked to no longer stand still. In fact, the Hebrews preacher suggests that staying in the same place spirituality that they had always been was in fact NOT standing still, as it might seem. Rather, it was indeed going backwards.

The analogy employed here in Hebrews, is in fact one that has stood the test of time from ancient to modern.  Look with me at verse 13 when the preacher says, "Anyone who lives on milk is still an infant, with no experience of what is right. Solid food is for  adults, whose perceptions have been trained by long use to discriminate between good and evil."

And such a statement we understand from this preacher: "Are you still an infant in the faith? No. Well, then why in the world are you still drinking milk only? Don't you know that as adults, your calling is to eat and teach others to also eat solid spiritual food-- food that cannot be merely gulped as a whole, but food that needs to be carefully cut into smaller pieces to be digested slowly."

A friend of mine was taking her young son to the dentist for his annual check-up. When the dentist examined my friend's son's teeth, immediately he had that look of alarm that every parent knows. Something was up. The dentist began to ask more about the child's diet and when and if he still took a bottle at night.

When the answer to the milk in a bottle question was yes, the dentist was quick to respond: "You know that this is not good for your son. He has to stop drinking milk this way and taking bottles altogether at his age. He's growing up you know, and if he keeps at this 'infant-like' behavior the growth of his mouth as an adult will actually be stunned."

So, the question before us this morning is, are we still drinking milk spiritually or have we moved on to steak or a plate full of the most beautiful sautéed vegetables (for the vegetarians in the room)?

Not that there is anything wrong with milk if we are new to the faith-- of course. When we are newborn in terms of accepting Christianity as our spiritual home, milk is perfect. Actually, it is indeed THE most nourishing substance we can provide and surround ourselves with, often taking it in as newborns take milk from their parents-- being feed by those who are more experienced at spiritual food than we are and taking it all in.

Drinking spiritual milk would look like coming to Bible study and asking as many questions as we need. Sitting in worship, not saying much but listening well.
Not tithing part of our income to the church yet, but giving what spare change we can find in the bottom of our purse. And, reading scripture or other devotional texts  as we feel moved to do so. All of these baby steps in faith become beautiful testaments to the work of God that is beginning to take root in our souls. And if this is where you are today, I say, keep drinking up the milk. Go for it. Drink up.

But, what about the rest of us? Why are we still drinking milk (like the picture on the front cover of our bulletin for this morning)?

What about those of us for whom we raised in the church?

What about us who have been re-associating ourselves with church and now realize we've been a member regularly attending WPBC for five years or more?

What then, is the" grow up" message of our text for this morning? How might the spiritual practices of our past be holding us back, stunning our growth, much like the mother who couldn't refuse her child his bottle at night but then got the bad news from the dentist? What might a life of solid spiritual foods look like?

But, the truth be told, I can't describe what spiritual solid food will look like in your life and what it will look in mine. If we take a minute and consider just a moment how it is that we digest a meal such as the one we have on the altar table, we might find some clues to get us moving in the right direction.

Consider thinking about spiritual food like we do solid food.

Spiritual food like solid food takes time to come together. Just as we can't come home from work quickly and put together a five course meal in the matter over 30 minutes or less if we haven't prepared ahead of time, we can't expect to receive spiritual nourishment if we just call upon  God when a crisis hits or our guilt gets the best of us.

Spiritual food like solid food takes time to digest. Unlike drinking a cold glass of milk in under a minute if we want, eating solid foods takes time. To eat solid foods, we must slow ourselves down to chew so that we simply don't choke. Growing spiritually does not come from reading a couple of sentences devotional every now
and then-- it comes in setting the intentions of our days that growing in relationship with our Creator is actually something we want to put into our schedule. Not lunch on the run, or lunch multitasking while on our email, but lunch with time and space to enjoy every bite of God's love given for us in the Word called the Bible.

Spiritual food like solid food comes in various forms. At some points in our lives, we could eat chicken fingers and mac and cheese for every meal. But as we grow
older, we often learn to eat foods we would have turned our noses up to as kids-- broccoli, spinach, and carrots, just to name a few. In the same way, the intake of spiritual foods in our lives will probably look different with each passing year. Sometimes it will look like lots of Bible Study classes. Sometimes it will look like weekends devoted to social justice projects. Sometimes it will look the quiet devotion of abiding in deep friendship with other believers. But regardless-- it is nourishment that we need at the time and we must eat up, not being to picky complaining that our spiritual food doesn't look as good as our brother or sisters'.

So this morning, I ask you, again, do you want to grow up? Do you want to have something other than milk for dinner? Do you want to taste and see that the Lord is indeed good? Then, come join me, come join your fellow believers on this journey in the feast of spiritual foods that our heavenly Parent has laid before us.  Let's do this important work and grow up in the faith together.

I promise you that as you learn to eat your spiritual food, it will taste better than you could have ever imagined as you keep chewing it, preparing it, feasting on it and sharing your meal with others.

AMEN

Intentional Vision

Exodus 17:1-7

When you were a child what were your dreams for your life? What did you want to be when you grew up? What did you imagine your life would look like?

Did you dream of being a doctor, a lawyer or a firefighter? Or a grand supreme winner on Star Search (as I did at age 6)? Did you hope you'd one day get married? Did you wish you'd one day have children that were as beautiful as Barbie and Ken and living happily ever after in Barbie's pink house? Did you draw pictures of the home you'd believed you'd raise your own children in one day with a red door and shutters that open and closed with ease?

But the reality is that as much as each of us had dreams and hopes for what the days of our life would hold, in actuality all of our lives in some way or the other has not worked out as we planned.

It's true as it is said, that no child grows up and says to their parent or caregiver, "I want to be an addict when I grow up." "I want to
get a divorced after a long custody battle with the woman I thought I'd love forever when I grow up." Or, "I want the house I bought with my life savings to go into foreclosure when I grow up."

The reality is: sometimes we don't even make it to the Star Search stage outside the makeshift one in our own living room. Sometimes, we find ourselves in mid-life living out of our car and not the house with that red door. Sometimes, our children grow up not to look or act like Ken and Barbie and drive us completely nuts.

Some of these situations, of course, stems from moments when we've lacked willingness to make good choices, but a lot of it comes from life just being life, in this broken world of ours that seems to become more broken all of the time. And, as a result, there are moments-- and you may have had one of them week-- when you want to throw your hands up in the air and say, "This is not the life I planned for myself." Or, "This is not the life I really want to be living. Ahhh!"

For as much as we've had good intentions and good desires for our lives-- to own a home that can be a blessing to our family and others, to be in long-term partnership with someone in whom we can love unconditionally and who loves us back, to be a parent who sees our children having children, life doesn't give us what we always want. It is often even our purest and deepest desires that just don't seem to pan out. No matter how hard we worry, pray and hope for the best and as much as we watch others being blessed, it seems that our hands come up empty time and time again.

If this is the situation that you find yourself in this morning-- wishing for things in your life that you don't have, then you are in great company as we examine our Old Testament reading for this morning among the Israelites. For they too, had a good desire, a need in their lives that they longed to be fulfilled yet simply was not. They were thirsty. I mean, really, really thirsty without a drop of water left.

I don't know the last time you were thirsty.  I can't remember when this was for me. It's rare in our water bottle and water fountain on every corner culture that we "die of thirst" literally or metaphorically in this neck of the woods very often if at all. Water  is something we have enough of, almost always, unless of course a tropical storm threatens to come through and our neighbors hoard the bottles of water off the shelves at Safeway and Giant leaving nothing for the rest of us . . .

But, in the wilderness where the whole congregation of Israelites found themselves on this journey from Egypt to the undefined and yet undiscovered Promise Land was, the resource of water was everything.

To find water was to find life and either you had it or you didn't: their search for water would be uniquely tied to who they were as a people. For example, just three days after crossing the Red Sea-- the big and dramatic-- experience of faith, the group was short on the provisions of water and the Lord had provided and God directed them to some springs. But again, they were without saying to Moses in verse 2, "Give us water to drink."

And, such was a good, normal, everyday, essential need, right?

H2O, we know, is critical to our very existence: the definition of a need. Most medical professionals will say that a human being, in reasonable to good health can only live between 3-5 days without water before suffering from extreme dehydration and shock leading to death.

So, while, we read Exodus 17 with thoughts in our head like "here they go again complaining," simply the Israelites sought to express a deep need when they told Moses, their spiritual and administrative leader, "We must have water now!" This "following God" and "making a new life" for themselves plan was not working out.

In the meantime, however, what were they to do? How were they to wait? How were they to respond to an unmet need that they were powerless to fix? Did it mean that their need was not really a need? Did it mean that God had abandoned them and truly wanted them to die as they feared?  It sure felt that way . . .

It's easy to kick the dog when you are down right? And, so, went the days of the lives of the Israelites and their relationship to Moses. As they perceived God not giving them the life they wanted, they took out their pain on the easiest next best thing: Moses. Voicing their frustration to the point that we hear Moses fearing for his life in verse 4-- believing that in their extreme thirst the crowd might stone him if they didn't get a drink and fast.

Moses' natural response to the crisis as a leader was fearful of the crowd's response, but tempered. We hear in the words of this text, Moses wanting the crowds to simmer down, stop bothering him and simply trust that God could provide-- as this was God's job to meet their needs.

I can imagine, if I were a member of the crowd, I would have found Moses' calm as a cucumber leadership style really annoying.

Trust that God would provide? "Oh, Moses," I would have said, "It's so much harder than that. When, tell me, when God is going to get God's act together and find us some water."

For, secretly they hoped that in Moses' bag of superpower, bring on the 10 plagues kind of tricks, he could lead them by another spring and they'd worry about water no more. But, such was just not going to happen.

A friend of mine shared with me this week a similar frustration with the world and with God. After being out of work for the past nine months due to a company downsizing in these difficult economic times, she is currently at the end of her rope. After sending out over 500 resumes, doing everything she can to do what experts say to do when you are looking for work: networking, staying on a schedule everyday and trying not to get down on herself even as the funds in the bank account slowly begin to run down, she feels the best parts of her life are dying more every day.

After interview after interview, rejection letter after rejection letter, and sleepless nights and pleas to any religiously minded person she knows for prayer, my friend shared she was beginning to think that God had forgotten her. No one in her life seemed to care that she was out of work and without a job coming her way soon, she might lose everything she's worked so hard for including her modest home. Life was not certainly turning out as she wanted.

But in the spirit of these same frustrations, the Israelites were asked, beginning with Moses, to be active in their faith of God and to begin to see beyond their circumstances in a way they'd never seen before.

These were Moses' instructions from God: "Go on ahead of the people, and take some of the elders of Israel with you; take in your hand the staff with which you struck the Nile and go. . . . Strike the rock" God said, "and water will come out of it."

I can imagine that laughter erupted from the crowd and anxiety of what might be next (if this didn't work) consumed Moses' thoughts. This God they were serving was just getting crazier and crazier all the time . . .

Professor Amy Erickson puts it like this, "It strikes me (pun intended!) that God choose to bring water-- and the life it symbolizes and will impart-- out of something that appears to be lifeless. . . . Out of Egypt and out of the wilderness, God will find ways to make life flow in the unexpected ways."

Even with all the pre-rock striking anxiety, when it does work, the provision of water is NOTHING like they expected.

The water came not from a spring (as it did before) nor from going back to Egypt (as they had suggested). The provision was resurrection before their eyes! That out of something that seemed life-less and certainly not life-giving, out flowed streaming of living water: a big ole rock!

Which begs us as a congregation, as seekers of this same God to wonder: where is our water? Where is our rock to turn to? Where is our spring? Where can all the hurting hearts among these pews this morning find hope once again? Where is the spring where we can know life can be and will be better than this?

Using our text for a guide this morning, our answers come in thinking for a minute about the quandary of the "My life didn't or isn't turning out the way I wanted" situation altogether. Let me ask you the same question of you in a different way.

Does scripture tell us that in life, we should expect to receive the dream we dreamed for ourselves when we were a child? Does scripture tell us in life that we should expect, as we follow God, that our lives will look exactly like everyone else around us?

I hate to burst your bubble this morning, but the answer to both of these questions is no.

Never does God promise us that in this life we'd get everything we want or that we can be confident that our lives will fall in the patterns just like our those around us.

But, if our unmet desires, are desires of lasting value, that are in line with the people who God has created us in all of our uniqueness to be-- then, we'd better watch out. God is going to be showing up in our lives in unexpected places, just as God did for Israel.

Showing up in places in our lives that we thought were long dead-- dead friendships, dead partnerships, dead vocational aspirations, or dead paths we'd traveled down our lives before-- and pouring from them water once again.

Not only so that we can receive what we've longed for, but so that the community around us can be reconciled and blessed by God too. Notice in this provision of water, not only is water given, but reconciliation. Moses, once distraught that the congregation would stone him, recognizes the Lord was among them and they all experienced God's provision together.

And, indeed our lives still might not turn out as would have liked them too (such may never change), but if we are open to God's direction, God's rocks of blessing, then I dare say our lives might turn out better than we'd ever dreamed from our days of playing with Barbies and Gi-Joes.

If you've noticed this morning the title of the sermon, "The Intention of Vision" you might be thinking, that all of this is nice but has nothing to do with casting or setting a vision. Yet, such could be farther from the truth, even if I haven't made such a point explicit for you this morning.

For when we are intentional about seeing our life as God see it-- not as worthless, not as used up and wasted and most certain not dead-- then, we begin to have vision for what is up head.

Vision, if you and I want to see the world from God's perspective . . . for ourselves, for our families, and for our church, begins with laying down the ideas we have about "What we wanted to be when we grew up" so that we as children of God, can help us see "what our Heavenly Parent wants us to be when we grow up." Which is what the month of stewardship every October is indeed all about-- re-centering our lives on God's vision for us, instead of just our own.

This morning, when you came into worship this morning, you were given a stone. It's yours to keep or throw away (as long as you aren't going to throw them at your pastor anyone else). But, if you feel so led, I'd invite you to have this stone be for you this week and in the weeks ahead a tangible symbol of your intention to align your life with God's vision for you and for us collectively as a church. I invite you to simply hold it in your hand as we sing our hymn of commitment in a few minutes.

May it be a reminder of the one who can bring forth water from the largest or oldest or most regrettable stones that surround your life-- remembering every time you touch its smooth texture that indeed the Lord is with us. And, will never leave us to face our perils of the journey alone.

AMEN

About three years ago now, when I was interviewing with the Pastor Search Committee of Washington Plaza, I was asked: "What is one of the biggest mistakes you've made in your life?" (which is an interesting question by the way).

I'm sure I paused for a minute or two to answer (because who really wants to speak about failures at a job interview), but still remember what I said. And it was, "Times in my life when I have not been truthful to myself. When I have responded to situations in ways that were what others expected of me, or made decisions based on what was more of an acceptable choice, or held back part of myself in hopes that it might make others like me more. "

And, if someone were to ask me this same question today, I believe I'd respond in a similar way-- for when I think great errors in judgment have been made on my part, it usually goes back to a fear or inability to be ok with authenticity at a deep level. I've allowed myself to be beat down by things that people have said to me that are out of line with what I know God thinks of me. Or, I've allowed the puffed praise of others to led me to think more of myself and act in a way that shows I think I'm better than . . .

This week, I was having a conversation with a friend who I've been in relationship with for over 15 years. We've appeared in and out of each other's life stories though we've rarely resided in the same city. We were talking about what makes up the "good stuff" of conversations (at least from my perspective) . . . what makes us tick as people, what makes us deeply sad, and what we fears surround our lives that we rarely say aloud. And a consistent theme emerged: our deepest regret in our lives, even as my friend and I are generations a part in age, all goes back to authenticity.

We've both held parts of ourselves back in our friendships, our vocations and our marriages at different points when the fear that we just weren't good enough, or didn't have the right things to say (or in our case sometimes had too much to say), or even that if people found out what we really thought we wouldn't be accepted as readily.

And, the more I reflected on this conversation since, the more it has enlivened me and saddened me at the same time. Enlivened my spirit because through the sweet words of this kindred spirit friend, I've got some pep in my step again to keep moving in the direction of what I feel God has given me passion to do: to deeply encourage the hearts of discouraged that life in God's hands can be better than we ever imagined it to be. But,  I was also saddened because I know both how few resources of encouragement there are to live life this way (as everything in our culture seeks to tell us we are not right and must be "fixed" by changing our mold from how our Creator designed us to be), and how constantly fear seeks to hold all of us back from living out of this most authentic place.

It's really, really hard, I know to live life from your core of believing so strongly in something about  your vocation, your relationships or just your life in general or even if this truth you know will cause hurt feelings to others you care about, led to criticism or failure, and more sleepless nights of despair than you can count. But, I know for certain that as I see it in scripture, salvation is all about being made whole. So, if we say we are a people who are in the process of "being saved" then, we've got to get to the business of living life truthfully.

And by truth, I mean this: more than avoiding white lies to our bosses, more than admitting to our kids that we aren't supermen and women all of the time, and more than just trying to follow the 10 commandments, but taking the leap of abiding more honestly in this world as ourselves. Living with passion of who we were made to be and not thinking any greater or less of ourselves than God created us when the Lord said we were "made in the image of God."

Let's all stop making the mistake of forgetting and not acting on this great truth. In authentic living, I know there are sweet life moments just around the corner for all of us no matter in what circumstances we find ourselves in now.

God can be found in the strangest places. God can be found when we least expect, even in places where we don't feel welcomed.

Last week, I had the opportunity with a friend to attend an event an evangelical Bible church, a place I would normally not go for a concert my friend really wanted to attend. I don't like settings like this because I feel that if I were to open my mouth and tell the person beside me what I do, who knows what might be said or done to me! While there have been great strides in the acceptance of women clergy in certain settings, there probably still more Christians in the world who believe the manner in which I am carrying out my vocational calling is misguided and wrong. I simply hate to pretend. I don't like to  feel like I'm not allowed to speak, and so evangelical Bible land is not on any list of a place I'd like to go back to anytime soon.

However, as I was sitting in the concert, observing a blast from my past (I used to be great fan of the music that was being played), I began writing this blog in my head. For as much as I heard impassioned songs and speeches about who these individuals knew God and God's church to be, it is not the ONLY way. I felt empowered to claim differing ideas of what the church is and should be and why voices of progressive Christians like myself need to be heard as much as any evangelical ones do.

Though my church is not mega sized with bathrooms that look designed for stadium crowds with pamphlets on every corner about a particular ministry with rules for how everything in the church should be ordered, I believe we are faithful in what we do.  And this is what church means to me:

1. A place where all are welcomed-- where no creed, code or dress gets you in the door faster than any others. To be a woman, a minority, a gay, lesbian, bi-sexual or transgendered person doesn't mean that you come into church as a second class citizen. All are one in Christ Jesus who is Lord-- and no sin is greater than any other (and being gay is not a sin).

2. God is bigger, as the saying goes, than any one religion. While Jesus is our path, we have much to learn from the faith expressions of other seekers. Being respectful of the beliefs of others is a non-negotiable.

3. Life can never be summed up in proof texting scriptures like "Rejoice in the Lord always" "In all things God works together for the good" or "Pray without ceasing" (i.e. if you just pray enough then God will give you what you ask for). Life as I know in this church of mine is too messy for simple band-aid answers. There is only so much one can take. And, to make blanket statements like "God is testing you" or "You must clear out all of the sin in your life before God will bless you" are just gross. The world is simply a broken place and sometimes our lives merely reflect the brokeness. Yet, this doesn't necessarily mean that we have sinned in any way or less loved by God.

4. God is a mystery. To know God is not to memorize a series of scriptures on which to have an answer to everything in your life. To be a seeker of your Creator in this world means that there is much unknowing that is part of the journey. While having access to truths of scripture and being connected to the faith traditions of the past can be helpful guides, God's ongoing revelation with and to us, means that often we have to throw up our hands and say we don't understand. Part of belief in God is the process of being unbelieving.

5. People of faith are called on by God to be instruments of peace and justice in this world. Not because we are called to evangelize with force. Not because it makes us better people (though it might). But because we are a part of a human family and thus have a responsiblity to all to share what we have so that the blessings of life may be known to all.  Christ's life has taught us what selfish sharing is all about. Such should be our model-- being willing to lay down our life for others.

6. Worship is not to make us feel better or evoke some emotional response every time. Worship is to be reminded of who God is and why even in life's deepest pains, we have reason to hope. There is no one way to worship, and should not be dependant on any one form or process. Part of what it means to grow in knowledge of God is to be ok with different communities of worship's practice-- and not expect your way to be the way every time.

What is the church to you on your Wednesday edition? How might attending an event of a different faith tradition-- whether it be another denomination or different faith practice altogether-- actually strengthen your own convictions of faith?

I heard the sad news this afternoon that on September 30, my friend Joe Smith had passed a way. After struggling for several months with lung cancer, loosing his voice and later his strength, he ended his fight last week. He left this earth too soon!

When Joe and I first met, I was one of the pastoral associates at First Baptist Church of Gaithersburg, Maryland. He entered the picture as Interim Pastor hired by the church leadership to come and "supervise" the "young pastoral staff" because we weren't seen as capable of leading the church in the transition. If you know me well at all, you know that such an intention of the church leadership was not agreeable to me-- I felt hurt and overlooked for the gifts I could bring to the church at this crucial time. So, especially in our first couple of interactions there was tension. Joe wondered why I wanted to preach so much as the previous Senior Pastor had allowed and seemed unsure of what to do with me . . and I wasn't sure what would happen. At best, I hoped that we could work together in ways that were helpful to the church.  (Pictured to the right was the staff)

But as is the case in most relationships, when you move from knowing "of" someone to actually knowing them, things quickly change. As time went on and Joe heard me preach and I watched him lead, we soon gained respect for one another at a deep level, even with our theological differences. I knew he wanted me to succeed. He knew I would soon be a senior pastor, the question would just be where? I knew the church was blessed by his ministry. On countless occasions we would have long chats about how to best respond to moments of crisis within the congregation. Joe would carefully listen to my perspective and always made me feel like a valuable part of the team. I learned so much from him about how to lead when you aren't in charge, the importance of sermon series in shaping the life of the church and how to really love being a pastor.

When we had lunch one afternoon in Bethesda, three years ago now, I told Joe the news I dreaded to share. I would soon be leaving FBCG to become the pastor of Washington Plaza. He quickly put me at ease and cheered me on for this new adventure.

On my first Sunday at Washington Plaza in January of 2009, I found flowers on the altar that I knew he'd arranged to be present there in support of the day. And, when Washington Plaza installed me as their 4th pastor, Joe came again-- this time to give the "charge" to me to look to the future in ministry. He's pictured to the left alongside the two other speakers for the special occasion.

Over the past several years, we've kept in touch though we no longer worked together. I was given several wonderful volumes from his library that he was cleaning out and wanted to give to some "young pastors." (This time I didn't mind being called "young"). I found out that Joe was reading my blog and was eager to comment if something I wrote connected with him in any way. Joe was also quick to send me an email about news of shared friends. For he never wanted me to be out of the loop.

Joe was kind and thoughtful in ways that were attentive to detail but were never showy or over the top. He left a legacy of faithfulness in so many communities of well-edited documents, quick humor and preaching on his toes.

I will miss Joe and know some angels in heaven must be rejoicing about now as he is at peace. I am sorry, Joe, that I never got to say good-bye! I am forever grateful for your contributions to my life. With my deepest regards-- your last associate pastor trainee.

When I've been around denominational meetings and big picture think-tank type settings lately, I've left such gatherings sad more than anything.  Sad not because the food was bad or the company was boring or even because I'd rather be somewhere else, but because it seemed the church (universal) is more divided than ever, focused on things that don't seem to matter to anyone other than those who are on the inside, and focused more on saving traditions than fulfilling its mission.

It's painful to be a part of and observe and I'm usually not one to bring such a topic up because I like to focus on what is working not what is failing. Yet, the truth remains: there's no mistake that the mainline church is in transition, if you want to use positive language, and dying if you want to be negative.

 In my tradition, the Baptist church, attention and participation in associational meetings is down, especially by anyone under 65. (It's hard enough to get people to come and participate in a local church activity much less an associational event). No one really cares, as much as they did back in 1950, and often those with the time to attend programing meetings reflect the perspective of a generation long past.

I know that such a statement is nothing revolutionary to those of us who have committed our lives to the church and care about it in vocational and personal ways: we experience this tension every Sunday. I know such a statement is what best-seller books in the world of Christian publishing are all about. Leaders who can articulate a clear vision of what the future might hold or how to spin the situation in hopeful ways are authors that we all know about: Brian McLaren, Diana Butler Bass, Adam Hamilton, to just name a few.

But, as a friend of mine who doesn't attend my church, but occasionally attends hers, sat in my living room today and said to me: "You know attending church is really old news. It's just not something people think of doing first on Sundays anymore" I actually agreed with her.

Because this is true, we, as church leaders need to pay attention. We need to stop spinning our wheels on denominational reports that just file data in some tall office building somewhere, Bible studies that don't speak to the questions where most are, and worship services that don't speak a fresh word of God every time they begin. (If we refuse to change, I really wonder why some of our churches wouldn't be better off closing their doors and giving the money they make from selling their property to a good cause rather than just doing business as usual).

To begin a discussion like this is also dangerous, I know, because it assumes I have answers as to what is next; while I'm the first to admit, I'm still trying to figure things out myself.

But, what I do know is that I simply am not interested in activities that take up my time anymore that are based on expectations of keeping the same old conversations going.

Conversations like supporting women in ministry-- we are here, we are as good at our jobs as our male colleagues, and it really shouldn't be an issue anymore.  

Conversations like can gay and lesbian members be welcomed in the church-- yes, they can, churches like Washington Plaza say, come home and worship with us any Sunday at 11 am.

Conversations like why do young people not like to come to our church-- they'll come if you invite them regardless of their marital or the childbearing status and seek to meet their needs the same as you would a middle-aged parent with children or a shut-in.

Conversations like why are ministers leaving the church-- they are leaving the church, especially, the young ones, because they are frustrated with having to live out their spirituality in dead communities when they can find the non-stifling presence of the Spirit of God alive and well outside of the church's four walls.

I love to be a part of imaginative conversations with hard-working, passionate leaders who take their faith seriously and who are willing to see the church as a relevant place of community and service-- not just another institution to maintain. I love to try new ideas in my local ministry context, even if they aren't approved or supported by my denominational offices.   I'm loving trying to figure out how to be a pastor in a unique community in Reston where there is absolutely NO WAY that the same old, same old would ever work.

Want to keep talking about these things? Know you have a conversation partner with this pastor. My hope for the next year is to continue to meet more of you out there who are thinking similar things with the hope that something new is coming soon and its an exciting time to be a part of ushering it in!

Back to the Basics Series: The Community of Communion

Matthew 18:15-20

If there is anything that remains constant in the ever-changing world of publishing, it is that Americans will buy a book if they think it will help them be better at doing something.  Though, maybe, you are like me and browse the “self-help” or “non-fiction” aisle at Barnes and Noble every now and then thinking to yourself now that’s not really rocket science, I could have written that! Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus seems to be a title any of us could have come up with! (Because we already knew this, right?)

Ultimately, we are a people who like finding a life script which tells us exactly what we are to do.  Such is why books like The 17 Day Diet, The Wealth Cure, and The 4-Hour Body are currently on the New York Times Best Seller list. Achieving my financial goals, all while spending 17 days to achieve the body I want, spending only 4-hours a week doing it, sounds great to me, doesn’t it to you? Using one’s own brain and/or practical sense is highly over-rated, isn’t it? Just give me some answers in plain speech.

In the same way, when many faith seeking Christians read our text for this morning, which outlines a script, a plan if you will for how to deal with community relations when conflicts emerge, they jump up and down and say in delight, “Finally Jesus tells us exactly what to do! It’s the script we’ve been hoping for! So let's get to it!"

And the script goes something like this: when there’s a conflict between two members of a church—presumably because someone “sinned” or is at fault for making a mistake of judgment against another, it is the job of the person who has been “wronged” to go and point out the error of ways to the other.

First, this should be done privately. The hope is that the sinning person will listen to the person who is calling them out, and so all will be well.

But, second, if this doesn’t work out, then, the wronged person is to gather support with two or three other witnesses, so to go back and confront the sinner again.  And, then if the person refuses to listen to this crowd, the entire church community should be notified of the wrong and if the offender refuses to confess their sin to even the church, it’s the ultimate insult.

 Verse 17 writes, “Let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.” I.e. you are simply screwed. As Jesus was speaking to an entirely Jewish audience, he compares the unrepentant sinner to the worst type of person that a member of the crowd could think of—thus saying to them, you don’t want to be that person, so make up quickly!

Seems simple enough, but what happens when this comes to play in actual practice?

Pastor Deanna Langle, a Lutheran clergy woman, tells the following story from her congregation of the staff and church leadership seeking to live out these verses of scripture:

One afternoon Rev. Langle, an associate pastor at a large multi-staff congregation, found herself with a crying administrative assistant in her office. She writes:

The woman in front of me was a woman of integrity, deep faith and sincere commitment to the church. She had been hired to be a pastoral assistant, and in that role she had contributed substantial time and amazing gifts to the congregation. She had asked for a meeting with me only after trying to speak with her supervisor, the administrative pastor.

So when she noticed a problem, in this case the pastor’s misuse of power, she confronted the situation and challenged him. The senior pastor tried to silence her and ignore her.

Reluctantly, she asked the executive council to hear her concern, but council members refused.

The pastor had told them that the discussion must remain between the two of them. He quoted Matthew 18 in support of this decision: "If another member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone." By complying with the pastor and his use of a biblical directive, the council members allowed him to protect himself and them from the truth.”[i]

The pastor simply got a way with a huge error of judgment that would hurt the congregation in retrospect for generations—all because he used scripture to “justify” his actions.

Sounds twisted, but you and I know that stories like this are not isolated cases. I have experiences like this in earlier places of ministry, myself as well. For if there is anything that Matthew 18 has given the church a legacy of, it is not peace and reconciliation, but it is often one of abuse of power, domination of the strong over the weak, and Biblical literalism slammed in the faces of those who are seeking to do the right thing.

For if read literally, these verses seem to imply that if two or three people agree on anything, they have the right to be the bullies. But, if you’ve read any other stories of Jesus throughout the gospels, the concept of these verses seem to say the exact opposite of the message of Jesus we’ve all come to know.  The message of “the last shall be first” “love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” and all of the turning the world upside down questions that Jesus proposed. So where is Jesus in all of this?

If we turn back a few verses to the beginning of chapter 18, what we find that our lection for today actually comes in the context of Jesus having a few teaching moments with his disciples when they came to him and asked the question: “Who then, is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?”

And, though I can imagine that Jesus wanted to knock the boys around a time or two saying to them, “Are you not listening? Have you not been listening this whole time? Why in the world would you ask a stupid question like that?”

Instead, of giving these fellas the quick snarky comment that they probably deserved, Jesus models the different approach to conflict that he was seeking to teach about.  Throughout this chapter, Jesus opens up the conversation about how important it is to pay attention to those in whom we usually forget such as the children, those who are lost from home, those in whom we have conflict and those who drive us so crazy that we can’t imagine forgiving them yet one more time.

And, thus, without directly saying it, Jesus answered the “Who is the greatest the kingdom of God?” question by reminding them that there is another question altogether to be asking in the first place: “What is the kingdom of God?” Saying, life in the kingdom of God is all about an inclusive vision of the world where those who would seem to matter the least are not left out.

So, getting back to our particular lection for today, we discover that the over arching message Jesus is teaches goes back simply the COMMUNITY he hoped his disciples would create—a community that would be the foundation of their lives together as their faith was shared with the world.  They would need to a pay attention to conflicts among them because it had EVERYTHING to do with how they lived out his mission on earth.

But, in our social networked everything world these days, community is a word that doesn’t strike our ears as that unusual. Dave Loose puts it like this, “Community, after all, is one of those feel good words that draw us into idealism—we imagine something out of Cheers, a place where everybody knows your name is glad you came. But the really difficult thing about community is that it is made up of people! And people—not you and me, of course, but most people—can be difficult, challenging, selfish, and unreliable. Which means that usually when we’re daydreaming about community we’re often prompted to do so because we don’t particularly like the people—i.e. the community!—we’re currently a part of.”

But, if we are going to take Jesus seriously here, and we know that how we treat one another when we don’t see things clearly really does matter, then you and I are going to have to think of community in more serious terms than the care free nature of the theme song from Cheers.

We’ve got to know that bitterness, unresolved pain, and gossip can kill any fellowship faster than the presence of a dead snuck can kill an outdoor party. And, protecting our fellowship, matters doesn’t it?

So, with this true, we have to pay attention to how we are getting along with one another in community realizing that as human beings a) no one is perfect (including your pastor)

b) communities are made up of these imperfect people

c) when problems arise and we’re involved, we are to do something about it, namely be a grown-up and go to the person with whom you have a conflict and work it out directly first, and

d) if that doesn’t work, seek wise counsel from within the community knowing that it is the community’s responsibility not to choose sides, appoint blame, but to care enough about all people to see the struggle through.

Because I’m sure I’m not telling you anything new when I say that as human beings, we will always face conflict because our nature is to act independently, write people off when they hurt our feelings, rather engage one another in the deep wells of community. 

Yet, the question remains then, what will we do with the conflict when it comes? And, how will the church community be any different from the average mom’s club, running group, knitting circle, wine tasting gathering or investment circle—what makes a faith community so unique?

When I think about how a faith community, that Jesus was teaching about, distinguishes itself from all others, I believe a good way to understand it, all goes back to what it is we do here every month at this table. For it is in communion, you and I say something together about what type of community we are.

I want you to take out your bulletin this morning and look ahead in the service plan about what is upcoming in the service after the sermon. You’ll notice that the first thing we’ll do after being invited to the table is to pray a prayer of confession together. It’s an act we partake in as an expression of our faith in this being a meal that is not of us, but of God. And because it is of God, we must be mindful of God’s holiness—saying to the Lord that we have fallen short of all the good things prepared for us, and before we receive the bread and cup of Christ, we must consider our role in purifying our own minds, hearts and souls as individuals.

And, second, we will pass the peace of Christ to one another. While I know this is one of the most enjoyable parts of the service for many of you, like a good intermission break of musical chairs to greet your friends with hugs and handshakes of peace—its practice says so much more than meets the eye.

 We greet one another in the peace of Christ as a remembrance that we are ALL a part of God’s body. We all matter to God and so we all are to matter to one another.  And, so if we are out of fellowship with ANYONE that we worship alongside, we out of fellowship with God .

Coming to the table, you see is not an individual driven act, it’s not a place where we come to get blueprint of what to do next, or even a place where we can come thinking we are in this alone.

Rather, it’s a place where we define our community as one giant messy experience of faith in something larger than ourselves with our brothers and sisters in Christ as companions on the journey.  So that we can’t ignore fussiness, gossip, bitterness or discord of any nature if we want to truly see God’s presence in our midst. We have to claim our work with one another in community building as a sacred, a very sacred act.

The type of community we are to create, according to Matthew’s gospel, you see, is not to be made up of some token inclusivity that means diversity guidelines, politeness, and political correctness—but rather a state of being where we take our cues from this supper: a supper of radical inclusivity. The supper where Jesus taught us who was the greatest, when he as the Son of God, sits among this followers and says, “This is my body broken for you.”

I know one of your favorite songs, like it is mine, is the one that exhorts us, “They’ll Know We Are Christians by our love.” Today, as we take this meal and live out the message of Jesus that all are welcome here and in this body, all people will know we are Christians by our love of how we treat one another. It’s as basic and complex as that!

Won’t you join me today at this meal of love and celebrate together in our worship the community of Christ from which our communion is shared?

AMEN

Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed,” says the LORD, who has compassion on you. Isaiah 54:11

Such have been the words that have been on my mind over the last week of weather chaos in the Washington DC area for literally on Tuesday, the ground on which the church stands, where I was working away at my desk, began to shake.

Though I can laugh about it now, upon first notice of the strange movement in the church, my first thoughts were "Someone is breaking in! We need to call the police!" A loud clanging noise seemed to keep thumbing on the roof. It sounded like an army was invading our usual quiet work space in Lake Anne. But soon it was apparent as the church building continued to shake that such a distribution was not the work that any human or group of human beings could cause.

My second thought was "Some of our recent repairs on the church building are faltering, maybe we are having a structural problem," but before I had much time to think twice about this, Deb, the church administrator had figured it out. The unthinkable had happened: an earthquake. "Let's go, Elizabeth! Let's go!"

Before we had time to say to one another that we were not in California for goodness sake, there was no way this would be happening, in panic we took action. Quickly, she and I ran out of the church (which I later learned was NOT the thing to do-- we should have just hid under our desks) and were greeted outdoors by our equally bewildered neighbors. "What in the world just happened?" was the thought we simultaneously shared with one another. "I guess, I'm not going crazy, then" was the cry of relief of all.

As we met some of the employees who work in the small business office unit next to the church, an interesting outreach opportunity materialized. I met people whom I'd never seen or spoken to before. As we exchanged details of what we did and our sacred we just were, there was the usual "look" when people found out they were talking to a pastor. One person even said, patting me on the shoulder: "Maybe this was a sign that God wants me to come back to church. . . ."  "Of course," I said, "You are welcomed anytime. Sundays at 11 am!"

Funny thing is, though, church this Sunday might be in jeopardy of all being normal again (if my new friend's sudden interest in church has indeed lasted) as all of us are preparing for the furry of hurricane Irene making its way up the east coast.  Talk around town involves questions of "Do you have enough batteries?" "Do you have your bottled water and canned goods?" "Have you secured your lawn from items that could become projector toward your house?" Though it seems by the hour, Target and other big box stores are running out of the essentials.

While I know our friends in Florida and New Orleans are exclaiming how glad they are that this storm is not hitting them for once and DC will most certainly not get the worst-- our hearts go out to those on the coast, especially along the Outerbanks and in the Tidewater region-- still Irene is rearing her ugly head and causing all of us to take notice.

It has been a week for all to remember that certainly we are not in control, as much as we think we might be . . .

Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed and the week of weird weather continues, there is one thing that we can all be certain of that has nothing to do with our emergency preparation kits or generators, that the compassion of the Lord will never fail us.  And, I hope for the possibility to see all of you Washington Plaza folks on Sunday.