THE MASKS WE WEAR

A little preview for Sunday's sermon:

Are you ready to give up your mask and live into your best self yet?

Greetings from the Cotswolds!

A note to the folks back home at Glide!

A PRAYER FOR THESE DAYS

God of our weary years, God of our silent tears

 

God of Trayvon Martin, God of George Zimmerman, God of countless brown and black men who have been profiled, gunned down, locked up.

We are weary O God and we have wept too many tears. It is a nation’s shame when justice is meted out to some but not to all. It is a nation’s shame when the killer of an unarmed teenage boy is not only given his freedom but his gun. It is a nation’s shame that there is not more outrage in our streets, in our political chambers, and in our churches.

We know that each one of us is created in the image of your image, O God, your  fingerprint resides on every face of every race in every corner of this earth. With your strength, we commit ourselves to protecting the dignity and worth of every child of God, and we will not rest until liberty and justice for all is not just a lofty dream but a reality in this land.

We will continue to march, to speak out, to protest, to show up, to tell the stories of racial profiling and oppression. We will continue to cross lines that have divided us from each other, so that together we can push back the evil isms that destroy beloved community.

We will lift every voice and sing till earth and heaven ring, ring with harmonies of liberty.

 

We will not forget Trayvon Martin, and all the unnamed young people lost to violence. We will continue to work for justice,

We will march on till victory is won. Amen.

A LOVE GREATER THAN LAW

On Monday, May 6, 2013, a New York Times article reported on the complaint against Dr. Tom Ogletree for performing his son's wedding. What should be reserved as a day of celebration has turned into a charge of disobedience because Dr. Ogletree's son is gay: The United Methodist Church forbids pastors from performing "ceremonies that celebrate homosexual unions."

The United Methodist Church is conflicted when it comes to the rights of glbt persons. At first glance, one might conclude that the UMC supports legal marriage for gay and lesbian couples, since the church believes that equal rights for same-sex couples is "a clear issue of simple justice in protecting the rightful claims where people have shared material resources,pensions, guardian relationships, mutual powers of attorney, and other such lawful claims typically attendant to contractual relationships that involve shared contributions, responsibilities, and liabilities, and equal protection before the law."

 However, the church also supports “laws in civil society that define marriage as the union of one man and one woman.”  The church believes that gay men and lesbians have a right to serve openly in the military, but forces glbt pastors deep into a closet of "don't ask, don't tell."  We believe sexuality is a good gift from God, but refuse the use of General and Annual Conference funds to encourage thoughtful conversation and study around sexual orientation, because it might "promote the acceptance of homosexuality."
 

A "clear issue of simple justice" has become convoluted double-speak for the church, The church cannot call for lgbt equality and justice in the world and give the same group of people second class status in the church. But that is exactly what the church has done. And as lgbt equality is fast becoming the law of the land, the church is growing increasingly out of step with a world that values dignity, diversity, and right action.

As I write this, Delaware has become the 11th state to legalize marriage between same sex couples, and Minnesota is poised to be number 12. Currently, 48% of Americans live in states that offer legal rights/protections for gay and lesbian couples.  As more politicians come out in favor of marriage equality and more than 50% of Americans support this movement, it is clear that the tide has turned in the US, and marriage equality will eventually be the law of the land.

It doesn't take a statistician to predict that this will result in more gay and lesbian United Methodists asking their pastors to officiate at their wedding and that more and more pastors will say "I will".  No church law can stop love. There will be more and more Tom Ogletrees, clergy of glbt children who will turn their back on the church's injustice and without hesitation will officiate at their child's wedding. And there will be more and more United Methodist pastors who will consider it yet one more vocational honor, to bless the union of two committed people, regardless of sexual orientation or gender identity.



The Wedding of Dan & Bill 2004
Bethany UMC San Francisco

The crisis in the church is not that people are breaking the "law". Jesus models to us that laws that cause harm to God's people are to be disregarded.  The crisis is that the church is failing to understand how it has perpetuated harm against God's glbt children. Bullying, physical violence, emotional violence, spiritual violence, murder, and suicide are all related to the church's inability to embrace fully lgbt persons.  As long as The United Methodist Church has "laws" on the books proclaiming lgbt persons "incompatible with Christian teaching" it will continue to have blood on its hands.

The deeper crisis is the church's failure to recognize God in the midst of love. Scripture tells us that God is love. When marriages were legal in San Francisco in 2004, God was EVERYWHERE! I, who have been trained as a United Methodist elder, had never before encountered God so fully as those beautiful weeks when love was celebrated, covenanted, blessed and licensed! The City was brought to a whole new level of joy, as complete strangers stopped to give flowers to newlyweds, as offices shut down to throw wedding showers, as parents dropped everything to fly into SF to be at their children's sides for the most important day of their lives.


If the church can't recognize this as something holy and true, one has to wonder: what in God's name is wrong with the church?

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Songs of The Season: Good King Wenceslas

Waiting for a bag of food at GLIDE today

 Technically, it's a little early for this carol. Good King Wenceslas tells the story of a king and his page encountering a poor peasant on the feast of St. Stephen (December 26). But it seems a fitting song, given what is unfolding outside my office window.

Today is GLIDE's Grocery Bag giveaway. Thousands of people are waiting in line to get a bag filled with groceries: turkey, potatoes, bread, vegetables, and lots more. Thousands of volunteers are filling bags, handing them out, and helping folks make their way home. It is an amazing day of generosity.

The carol Good King Wenceslas tells a similar story of generosity:

Good King Wenceslas looked out on the feast of Stephen,  

when the snow lay round about, deep and crisp and even. 

Brightly shown the moon that night, though the frost was cruel,  

when a poor man came in sight, gathering winter fuel.

"Hither, page, and stand by me. If thou know it telling: 

yonder peasant, who is he? Where and what his dwelling?"

 "Sire, he lives a good league hence, underneath the mountain, 

 right against the forest fence by Saint Agnes fountain."

"Bring me flesh, and bring me wine. Bring me pine logs hither. 

Thou and I will see him dine when we bear the thither."

Page and monarch, forth they went, forth they went together  

through the rude wind's wild lament and the bitter weather.

"Sire, the night is darker now, and the wind blows stronger.  

Fails my heart, I know not how. I can go no longer." 

"Mark my footsteps my good page, tread thou in them boldly:  

Thou shalt find the winter's rage freeze thy blood less coldly."

In his master's step he trod, where the snow lay dented. 

Heat was in the very sod which the saint had printed.  

Therefore, Christian men, be sure, wealth or rank possessing, 

ye who now will bless the poor shall yourselves find blessing

Wenceslas was an actual person who was eventually sainted by the Catholic Church. A royal member of Bohemia (in part what is now the Czech Republic), Wenceslas was known for his kindness and generosity who was murdered by his brother.

This song tells of Wenceslas' kindness. Upon seeing a poor peasant, he tells his page to gather not only kindling, but also food for the man. The page weakens in the bitter cold, but the king tells him to follow close behind in his footsteps. Sure enough, by staying close to Wenceslas and following in his footsteps, the page finds himself warmed and able to continue on the path to the peasant's abode.

Today, volunteers at GLIDE came face to face with the elderly, with poor families, and with many in need. They followed a path set out before them which warmed them from the inside out, as they offered bags filled with food. 

Bags ready to be given out

There was a joy that was palpable throughout the building. Smiles lit the faces of volunteers, staff, and those awaiting food. Truly, blessings were in great abundance. 

The words of the song came to life today:

Ye who now will bless the poor shall yourselves find blessing.

Performed by the Roches

Songs of the Season: In the Bleak Midwinter

As the joy of the season has been replaced with the choked cries of grief since the Newtown shootings, I find I have reached for my hymnbook to find songs of the season that won't gloss over the despair and helplessness I am feeling. Is there room in the manger for me, for us, this Christmas?

In the Bleak Midwinter is perhaps the most melancholy of Christmas carols (if you know another, do let me know). It was written by British poet Christina Rossetti (1830-1894).  Rossetti's father's physical and emotional health deteriorated when she was barely in her teens, resulting in instability and financial hardship for her family. She herself suffered a nervous breakdown at the age of 14 and had to leave school. She battled with depression for the rest of her life. At the age of 42, she was diagnosed with Graves' Disease and later, in 1893, was diagnosed with breast cancer. She died a year later.

Rossetti wrote the hymn around 1872, at the request of a magazine. The depiction of a cold world, snow on snow, snow on snow, reflects my mood today. There is a moan in my body longing for escape, an uncharacteristic bleakness to my spirit as I ponder the unspeakable horrors we humans inflict on each other.

Yet into this harsh and violent world, God comes. An infant. Vulnerable. Needy. And in spite of all heaven heralding the baby's arrival, it is his mother, in all her humanness, who cradled him in his arms and offered him what he most needed: love.

In the bleak midwinter, frosty winds made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone.
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;
But His mother only, in her maiden's bliss,
Worshipped the beloved with a kiss.

Oh what can I give Him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb?
If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part?
Yet what can I give Him, give my heart.

In the bleak midwinter, frosty winds may move
Earth stood hard as I am, water like the storm
If I were a Wise Man, would I do my part?
Yet what can I give Him, give my heart. 

 Is there room this year for me in the manger? Can I bring my tears as I face this broken world? Can I bring my weariness? Can I bring the fears I can barely utter aloud?

Yes, God comes: not because all is right with the world, but because in spite of all that is wrong, God desires love to prevail. God comes, not because I am prepared and ready to rejoice, but because God knows my need for healing. God comes.

Into the bleakness of my world, God comes. And while it feels as if I am but an empty vessel, there is nothing I have to do, just open my heart and let the healing warmth of God enter in.

Songs of the Season: I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day

It is still 11 days from Christmas, yet I am drawn to this song on a day filled with unspeakable horror as a man entered a school in Newtown, CT and gunned down more than 2 dozen children, teachers, and administrators. Suddenly, the joy of the season is filled with the weight of grief as the entire nation mourns with the families of Newtown.

While at first glance it would seem as if Christmas is reserved for joy and laughter (after all, we always precede a Christmas greeting with "Merry" and LOL becomes Ho Ho Ho) and have little to offer us as we sit at our desks and TVs weeping this day, it is time for us to tell the whole story of Christmas, the one that is often skipped over. We all love the stories of wise men and shepherds, of the baby Jesus away in a manger on a silent night, holy night. We keep singing louder and louder as if to convince ourselves, of "tidings of comfort and joy." But there is a part of the story that is neither comfortable nor joyous.

It is the slaughter of the innocents.

When Herod hears the murmurs of the people, talking about the birth of the "King of the Jews", he dispatches 3 wise men to find out where this newborn king is, and then get back to him with the news.  We all know about the 3 kings, bearing gifts, having traveled afar...how they are in awe of this babe, lying in a manger.

They aren't called wise men for nothing. They know that Herod fears an early coup in the making and wants to know the baby's whereabouts so he can kill him and reserve his status and power.  The wise men decide to take a route home that will allow them to avoid Herod.

Joseph has a dream that warns him of the danger facing his child. Under the cloak of night, Joseph and his family run from Bethlehem into Egypt. So not only was Jesus born homeless, but he also becomes a refugee. The family remain in Egypt for several years until Herod's death.

Herod isn't aware of the Holy Family's escape and, upon learning that the wise men have not kept their promise to return to him with information as to Jesus' whereabouts, orders every male child under the age of 2 to be killed. The Gospel of Matthew uses a passage from the prophet Jeremiah to describe the pain of those whose young sons were murdered:

"A voice is heard in Ramah, weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more."

Tonight, there is weeping and great mourning in Newtown, mothers and fathers weeping for children who are no more.

Tonight, we all are grief-stricken at the loss of innocents, those who, as President Obama said today,
"had their entire lives ahead of them -- birthdays, graduations, weddings, kids of their own." We mourn the deaths of those who taught and nurtured these children. We join our tears with those in Newtown.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote the song, I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day. Written in 1864, it reflects both societal and personal grief that Longfellow was facing. With a nation gripped by the Civil War, Longfellow knew intimately the grief we are experiencing today, as parents wept for lost sons in the war. He lost his wife in 1861 as the result of a fire in which he was badly scarred himself, having failed at extinguishing the flames that had engulfed her. He was so despondent that a year later he wrote: "I can make no record of these days. Better leave them wrapped in silence. Perhaps someday God will give me peace." As Christmas 1862 approached he wrote: “A ‘merry Christmas’ say the children, but that is no more for me.” 

Against Longfellow's wishes, his son Charles enlisted to fight in the war, and was severely wounded and returned home to recover. As 1864 drew to a close, Lincoln was re-elected and it looked like the war might soon be over, Longfellow wrote a poem "Christmas Bells", which became the words to the song.

Unlike many Christmas songs, this one does not shy away from acknowledging that humans do awful things to each other, that we experience much pain and suffering. There is death, weeping and tears. Yet, God does not leave us desolate. The God who came in the form of a baby continues to come into our world to set things right. 

I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

I thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along the unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair I bowed my head:
"There is no peace on earth," I said,
"For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men."

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead, nor doth he sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
With peace on earth, good will to men."

Till, ringing singing, on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime,
Of peace on earth, good will to men!