The Reign of Christ

This Sunday is the last Sunday of the liturgical year, as next Sunday begins the Advent season. This day is known as “Christ the King Sunday”. The gospel text, John 18: 33-37, is an exchange between Pilate and Jesus. Pilate knows that Jesus poses a threat to the status quo, but doesn’t quite understand what or how. So he asks Jesus outright: "Are you the King of the Jews?"

Jesus makes it clear that his kingdom is a far cry from Pilate’s. It is not based on votes cast or military might. It isn’t swayed by opinion polls or news reports. Instead, it is a reign of selflessness for the sake of others. It is a kingdom so radical that the lion shall lay down with the lamb and enemies will beat their swords into plowshares. It is  God’s now and not yet Kingdom that rises up from the grave of humanity’s brokenness into the new and sacred  life of resurrection power. 

How do you offer your allegiance to Christ’s reign? Are you settled into a status quo that includes the well-being of some but not all? Are you treating the earth with your tender care? Are you emptying yourself of greed, status, self-reliance, and selfishness to make room for others? Are you giving yourself over to Christ, who beckons for you to create with him Beloved Community?

Puppies, Love and God

Praying for the laity and clergy of the Mountain Sky Conference as we prepare ourselves to gather for Sunday worship.

When I was at Glide, one of the teachers talked about how he keeps a scrapbook filled with pictures of puppies. When a child begins to act out, the teacher pulls out his scrapbook and shows it to the child. Almost immediately, the behavior of the child would change: the child would let go of anger or feelings of distress and begin to soften. In no time at all, the child would be able to reengage with the class.

I’ve thought about the teacher’s tactic often. What is it about puppies that disarms and delights us?

I once attended a lecture on spirituality and love. The speaker talked about how everyone craves love, but all too often makes the mistake of seeking it “out there”. As the song goes, “Looking for love in all the wrong places.” But the love you feel is not coming from out there. It’s coming from within you. For instance, the speaker said, when you see a puppy and feel love, it’s not coming from the puppy. The love is already in you and has been released.

I John 4: 7-12 reminds us:

“Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love. God’s love was revealed among us in this way: God sent his only Son into the world so that we might live through him.  In this is love, not that we loved God but that God loved us and sent his Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins. Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and God’s love is perfected in us.”

“If we love, God lives in us, and God’s love is perfected in us.”

There is within each of us a wellspring of love, whose source is God. How can we, as the Body of Christ, help one another release this love that dwells in each of us? In an age where anger, hatred, and division seem to have the upper hand, how can we hold up a mirror to one another, reminding us that we are made in God’s image, that God dwells within us, and that inside us there is a limitless supply of love?

What In God's Name Are You Doing?

Praying for the laity and clergy of the Mountain Sky Conference as we prepare for Sunday worship.

When I was young, the most dreaded seven words were, “What in God’s name are you doing?” Whenever I heard those words, I froze! Even if I didn’t think of it as I was doing it, as soon as I heard those words, I knew I was doing something very, very wrong.

I have been thinking a lot about that phrase lately. There is much talk about the role of faith in politics. Yet, looking at the great divisions in our nation, I am left to wonder, “What in God’s name are we doing?” How does our faith inform our public witness? How does it impact the way we move in the world? How does it shape our relationships, not only with those we call family and friends, but those whose names we may never know?

What in God’s name are we doing?

Jesus makes it very plain what those who are his disciples are to do:

“I was hungry and you fed me,

I was thirsty and you gave me a drink,

I was homeless and you gave me a room,

I was shivering and you gave me clothes,

I was sick and you stopped to visit,

I was in prison and you came to me.” (Matthew 25)

Jesus makes it clear that to act in the name of Jesus means to look towards those who have been pushed down and pushed out to the margins. It means opening our eyes and hearts to those others are ignoring and acting in ways that bring healing, hope and justice. It means being disturbed by the mistreatment of others and doing something to challenge and change the systems that promote oppression and injustice.

Henri Nouwen said:

“Ministry is acting in the Name of Jesus. When all our actions are in the Name, they will bear fruit for eternal life. To act in the Name of Jesus, however, doesn’t mean to act as a representative of Jesus or his spokesperson. It means to act in an intimate communion with him. The Name is like a house, a tent, a dwelling. To act in the Name of Jesus, therefore, means to act from the place where we are united with Jesus in love. To the question “Where are you?” we should be able to answer, “I am in the Name.” Then, whatever we do cannot be other than ministry because it will always be Jesus himself who acts in and through us. The final question for all who minister is ‘Are you in the Name of Jesus?’ When we can say yes to that, all of our lives will be ministry.”

What in God’s name are you going? May your time in church strengthen you to live so fully connected to Jesus that everything you do will be grounded in God’s love, so that your whole life may be ministry.

I sing a song of the saints of God…

Tomorrow in many churches, All Saints Day will be celebrated. We will sing “For All the Saints” and name those who died in the past year. There will most likely be some tears and perhaps even a laugh or two, remembering the life of a loved one.

For most of human history, death has been a close partner in life. Life expectancies were short. Medical knowledge was lacking. During the Roman empire, life expectancy was 28 years. In medieval Britain, it raised to 30. It has only been in the last 100 years, with the leaps made in medicine, that life expectancy has surged to nearly 80. These medical advances caused death to no longer be understood as a natural part of living, but a pathology to be avoided at all cost. Where once we were comfortable with both death and grief, making space for it in life, we now hide death and seek to curtail the grieving process.

Try as we might, we cannot keep death at arms length. As much as we might like to surround our loved ones and especially our heart in a hazmat protective suit, death will inevitably come to those we love, and to we ourselves.

Some of us saw death this year. Many of us had our lives profoundly impacted by the loss of a loved one. Grief clings to us as bitter soot on our souls, because life has been taken from us, wrenched from our grasp. The empty place beside us in bed, or at the dinner table, or in the office, or next door, or at the family gathering, is an ever present reminder that cannot be denied that death has paid a visit and left with one we love.

Even though death has taken some dear ones from us, my faith in the risen Christ tells me that they are in fact here, still amongst us, a part of the great cloud of witness and within the communion of saints. My faith helps me continue to experience the love we shared that not even death can take away. Faith teaches me that the dead are never very far from the living.

This weekend is a time when many cultures and religious traditions believe that the veil between the living and the dead is thinnest. It is a time to honor those who have passed, those saints of our lives who now rest in the arms of God. We in the Spanish Language/Liberation Theology Immersion group from our annual conference were in Mexico for El Dia de Los Muertos, and joined the people of a small town, going from home to home of those who had lost a loved one this year, to view the altars they had made for them and to be offered food and drink as a way to celebrate their lives.

Who are the saints in your life, those who from their labors rest, who today are sitting now at God’s side, watching over and caring for you, continuing to surround you in love that not even death can destroy?

Whose voice do you still hear? Who do you remember? Who showed you a bit of what God is like? Who loved you? Whose love was so big that not even death can put an end to it? I invite you to post their picture below, and offer a memory or two.

Thomas Lynch, an undertaker turned poet, reminds us to be gentle with ourselves and our grief. It is hard work. His advice is this:

“There's no easy way to do this. So do it right: weep, laugh, watch, pray, love, live, give thanks and praise; comfort, mend, honor, and remember.”

I invite you, tomorrow, to turn to your pewmates as you remember the saints of your lives. Offer comfort. Offer affirmation. Offer life. Offer love as we live into and move through our grief, as we surround ourselves with saints.