08.17.14 - Sermon: "In the Kingdom of God"

A transcript of the sermon that I preached at First Presbyterian Church in Killeen, TX this past Sunday.

Oh LORD, our God,

Your Word is a lamp to our feet and a light to our path.

Give us grace to receive your truth in faith and love,

That we might be obedient to your will

And live always for your glory;

Through Jesus Christ our LORD, Amen.

Sermon text: Matthew 15: 21-28  

            Well, talk about an uncomfortable Bible story. Lord knows there are plenty of them to go around. The thing about those uncomfortable Bible stories is that they don’t tend to make it into the Lectionary. This must be an exception.

           

            Last Sunday, my best friend and I drove to Dallas, to attend the ordination service of another good friend of ours from seminary. The Rev. Brent Barry, of NorthPark Presbyterian Church in Dallas, preached at her service. Oddly, his sermon was based on today’s text, a whole week ahead of schedule. While he went in a different direction with his reflection on the occasion of ordination and ministry, something that he said has remained with me. All week. The person, who emerged from the crowd, who was bold enough to fall at the feet of Jesus and cry for help, was all wrong: she was the wrong gender, the wrong race, the wrong ethnicity, ostensibly part of the wrong faith group. She was a Canaanite woman. A Gentile. In the Gospel of Mark, we know her as the Syrophoenician woman. Jesus was a man, not to mention an observant Jew. In first century Palestine, these folk didn’t mix. And yet. Matthew tells us, this woman emerged from the crowd and started shouting at him! Pastor Mark Davis translates this verb from the Greek as “squawking.” Throughout his Gospel, Matthew connects this verb with the blind, the demons, the disciples caught on the boat in the storm, Peter sinking into the sea, and much later, with the crowds calling for Jesus’ execution. It’s even used to describe Jesus as he takes his last breathe on the cross. While the word sounds comical to our 21^st century ears, it is a cry of desperation.

           

            And Jesus. He is cranky with her. More than cranky – he is outright rude. Biblical commentators offer a variety of reasons to explain away Jesus’ harsh response in this text. Some say he was testing this woman’s faith. Other’s say he’s offering a teaching lesson to the disciples in the form of “what not to do” when you encounter a foreigner. Still, others point to Jesus’ humanity. This is how I see it.

           

            In 451 AD, the early church fathers gathered for what later became known as the Council of Chalcedon. Now, these councils were like glorified Presbytery meetings. Except, they lasted for several weeks. And there was likely no free coffee. In the end, someone was usually declared a heretic. At this particular meeting, the church leaders gathered to debate and discuss many issues, the end results were published as church cannon, or law. One of the more famous issues deliberated, discussed, and decided on during the Council of Chalcedon, was the nature of Christ. Was he human? Was he divine? How could he be both? Is he? In the end, they decided that Christ is the fully human, fully divine Son of God. It’s what we continue to believe abut Jesus today in the  Reformed Tradition.

           

If ever there were an argument for the humanity of Jesus, this passage is it. Matthew’s story causes dissonance with our understanding of who Jesus is: King of Kings, Prince of Peace, Son of God. He’s the nice guy, who loves everyone. Here, we see something very different. It makes me a bit squeamish. Context helps a little. In the beginning of the 14^th chapter of Matthew, a lot happens, in very quick succession. John the Baptist, who was Jesus’ cousin, good friend, and the man who baptized Jesus, was beheaded at the hands of Herod, as entertainment for Herod’s guests. Scripture tells us, not long after, the disciples break this news to Jesus. Then, Jesus withdrew, ostensibly to pray and to grieve. But, the crowds followed him. The feeding of the 5,000 happens. Jesus departs on a boat with the disciples. Jesus is under the boat, trying to rest and pray. A storm brews. They panic. Jesus walks on water. Jesus heals many. Then, he beings teaching the crowds again. And scene. A lot has happened in very little time. Talk about no room to breathe. Jesus is like that Solo Pastor, who probably should have an Associate Pastor to help him out, but the church really can’t afford one; and he’s just done two funerals, a wedding, and three hospital visits on the heels of a Holy Week that would not end. He was tired. And trying to grieve his friend. But he hasn’t had the space to grieve yet. And then here was this woman. From the wrong side of the tracks. Squawking at him about her sick daughter. He was on the inside. She was on the outside. He acted accordingly.

           

            This is an uncomfortable text. It’s been an uncomfortable week. It seems we increasingly live in a world of boundaries that determine who is in and who is out. It’s completely heart-breaking. This reality becomes more and more apparent with every passing day. And I don’t know about you, but after the past couple of weeks, I am weary. I am weary at the increasingly urgent and depressing global events plastered across my television set and computer screen. No one I love has died recently, but I’m starting to understand where Jesus was coming from when we meet him in this last half of Matthew 15. There’s the ISIS persecution of Yadizis in Iraq. The conflict in Israel and Gaza has been heating up in recent weeks, with an increasing number of causalities. And this week, the tragic events in Ferguson, MO, which have been like the spark igniting a forest fire of race relations in this country. And rightly so. This story sounds a little bit too much like Trayvon Martin and Jordan Davis, not to mention countless others. On Saturday, August 9^th, a police officer in Ferguson, MO fired his weapon multiple times and killed Michael Brown, an unarmed black teenager, who was walking down the street. The details of the situation are murky at best. Regardless, he did not deserve to die. The aftermath has been unlike anything I have seen in this country in my adult life. Twitter has exploded. The 24 hours news channels are in overdrive. It doesn’t look like it will stop for some time. Frankly, it reminds me a little bit too much of Arab Spring, which began in Tunisia in 2010 and quickly spread to much of the Middle East the following year. Twitter exploded. The 24 news cycle went into overdrive. It didn’t stop.

           

            Our text today is a text of boundaries. Michael Brown’s story is a story of boundaries. Some are in and some are out. This isn’t the 1960s anymore, and we are not in Birmingham, but unfortunately the story remains the same. The photos remain the same. The news coverage remains the same. Now, I’m aware, that there’s a history of racial tensions that runs deep between the police department and the people in Ferguson, MO. This dynamic is by no means limited to this small community outside of St. Louis. But still – as I reflected on the text for this week, I couldn’t help but think: Michael Brown was the wrong race. Like so many who have gone before him, both named and unnamed. And he was in the wrong place, at the wrong time. And it cost him his life. Despite what his mama probably taught him about how to act if stopped by the police. It cost him his life.

           

            The Canaanite woman was the wrong race. She was the wrong gender. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Jesus needed some space. No, he needed a sabbatical. And yet. There she was. Squawking at him.

            “Have mercy on me, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon!” Jesus, in his human frailty, proceeded to talk with the disciples about her, like she wasn’t even there. “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the House of Israel.”

            She threw herself before him, “LORD, help me!”

            He is harsh with her. “It is not FAIR to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”  She is familiar with the reality of her situation. She speaks this reality to him, unwaveringly.  “Yes, LORD. Yet, even the DOGS eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.”

           

            Whoosh. I imagine her words took the breath right out of him. He announces, “Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.” The text tells us her daughter was healed INSTANTLY.

           

            This is a healing story, but it is unlike so many we find in any of the Gospels. This is an uncomfortable story. It’s one where Jesus is portrayed in a way that causes tension. Tension between who we believe him to be and how he’s seen here. We don’t want to locate ourselves within this story, because it’s too difficult. There’s a teaching moment here, but it’s Jesus who is getting the lesson. Jesus believed his mission was to reach out only to the House of Israel, as seen here, and in earlier parts of Matthew’s Gospel. God used this woman to show him something more. To show him grace.

           

            I was once told that grace is a movement from narrowness to wideness. That’s what we see here. The Canaanite woman responds to Jesus’ harsh words. But she speaks to the awful truth of her reality. In doing so, she hopes for something more. In doing so, she wakes Jesus up. She yanks him out of his complacency. She shows him a glimmer of something more. A larger, more beautiful purpose to which she is called. It is a mission of wideness and grace, instead of narrowness and exclusion. When Jesus sees her faith and heals her daughter, he breaks open the circle of pain and exclusion so that it is no more. “I come that they may have life and have it abundantly!” the Gospel of John tells us.

            In the Gospel of Matthew, prior to this encounter with the Canaanite woman, Jesus has mentioned “The House of Israel” on several occasions as a means of exclusion and narrowness. After this encounter, our red letter text tells us he does not utter this terminology again. Instead, Jesus begins to talk about the Kingdom of God. He describes it in so many beautiful and powerful ways. We can’t help but long for it. There IS no wrong race in the kingdom of God.

           

            Our country is on the brink of being torn in half because of bipartisan politics, conflicting ideologies, and now, more than ever, mounting racial tensions following Michael Brown’s death. People are fed up. Fear is mounting. We are weary. As Christians, God calls us to something more. We need a movement from narrowness to wideness. From fear to grace and love. We need to break the circle of exclusion. There is no wrong race in the Kingdom of God. There is no in and there is no out. In this text, and the many that follow, Jesus invites us into the Kingdom of God. The Canaanite woman’s faith and love for her daughter, healed her daughter, by the grace of God.

           

            In May, I met the Rev. Becca Stevens. She is an Episcopal priest and the founder of Thistle Farms, a social enterprise based in Nashville. Thistle Farms helps women, who are survivors of trafficking, addiction, and abuse, get back on their feet through a free, two year program, that includes safe and stable housing, comprehensive medical care, and job training. The women make, market, and sell soaps, lotions, candles, and more that are as good for the earth as they are our bodies. Becca always says, “Love is the most powerful force in the world for social change.” Appropriately, the Thistle Farms’ slogan is “Love Heals.” The Canaanite woman’s love and faith caused Jesus to heal her daughter. I believe that our love for all of humanity and our faith in a God who knows no boundaries, can break the circle of exclusion that exists in our world. It can begin the healing we so desperately need. Even though Ferguson, MO is hundreds of miles away, the people there, who are experiencing unfathomable pain, anger, sadness, and grief, are our neighbors. Michael Brown was our neighbor. Let us not only hold them up in persistent prayer before God, but let us cast aside all fear and judgment, and instead love them from hundreds of miles away, even though we are weary, and we are tired. Let us love those in our communities just the same. Let us listen to their stories. Let us meet them where they are. It’s not all we should do, but it’s a start. It is what our God of grace calls us to do, in these most tense and uncomfortable of moments in our recent history. Maybe then, we will start to see our world change. Maybe then, we will seek Christ, who beckons us to follow him into the kingdom of God.

Amen.

"See you at the Table."

As of late, I think I might be the worst at blogging. But, I'm going to try again. I thought I'd dust this little-used blog off today to post a short piece I just submitted for my home church's Advent Devotional. The prompt invited us to write about a time we felt the presence of God, in 300 words or less. 

I recently just finished reading the Harry Potter series for the first time, including the last book, The Deathly Hallows, which has some wisdom to impart about the power of resurrection in the lives of those who continue living after others have died. This weekend, the church universal celebrated All Saints' Day. Perhaps because of these things, when contemplating what to write, I couldn't stop thinking about the seminary's Memorial Service of Witness to the Resurrection for KC Ptomey I attended in September. So, I began to write: 

"The Rev. Dr. KC Ptomey began teaching at Austin Seminary, as professor of Pastoral Ministry and Leadership, the same year I arrived. While there, I took a couple of his courses. They, like KC himself, greatly informed and influenced my understanding of ministry in the church. In his late 60s, KC, with his broad smile, twinkling eyes, infectious laughter, and southern charm, never hesitated to point a finger and tell it like it is. His stories from the front lines of 30+ years of ministry made students both laugh and cringe, always used to illustrate a point discussed in class.

In May, KC died peacefully in his Nashville home, after a short, but no doubt fierce battle with liver cancer. In September, I attended a Memorial Service for him held at the seminary. A Service of Witness to the Resurrection. If I learned anything from KC, this is what funerals are above all else. The tiny chapel filled with saints who’d come to celebrate his life. The seminary president, faculty and students helped lead the service. A Board of Trustees member gave the sermon. His wife, The Rev. Carol Tate, presided at the Table. A refrain, consistent with KC’s life and witness, echoed throughout the service: See you at the Table. KC died believing that death does not have the final word. As I walked forward to receive the Eucharist, surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, I cried tears of grief and joy. The presence of God in the room was thick, palpable, and stuck in my throat. 

I hesitated to talk about death as we enter this season of Advent. But KC taught that in life and death, we belong to God. As I reflect on the presence of God felt at his memorial service, I am reminded that even in the darkest of circumstances, a Bright Light illuminates the world with hope. This is something to celebrate as we enter this season of light."

If I learned anything about myself in the last year, it's that, even as an extrovert, I sometimes need a little longer than anticipated to process powerful events. This is one such example. It's been nearly six months since KC died, but as I re-read his obituary, I still tear up and continue to process. Writing this helped too, which is likely why I chose this experience to share. 

#unco12: Health, Food, Boundaries Break-Out Resources

Here are list of resources I mentioned and/or remember from our awesome break-out discussion at #unco12. Hope they're helpful.

"Good Calories, Bad Calories" by Gary Taubes: http://goo.gl/fbSi7

"Why We Get Fat: And What to Do About It" by Gary Taubes http://goo.gl/AIU7N - A distillation of "Good Calories, Bad Calories" - much shorter, with more accessible language. It reads less like a dense book of scientific research than the first book, but still contains all of the same, important information. 

Gary Taubes at the Walnut Creek Library on 04.02.11 http://youtu.be/MyXa39ICIrk - If you don't have time to read the books right now, watch this 10 part YouTube video series, where Gary Taubes outlines the bulk of his research through PowerPoint and lecture.

From Newsweek Online/The Daily Beast: "Why the Campaign to Stop America's Obesity Crisis Keeps Failing." http://goo.gl/RqKDs

"A Glimpse of Jesus: The Stranger to Self-Hatred" by Brennan Manning - http://goo.gl/vOLoe I don't know that I had the opportunity to mention this book, but I meant to. I really enjoyed reading it and thought others might be able to take something from a part of it, even if not all of it.

"The Fat Jesus: Christianity and Body Image" by Lisa Isherwood. http://goo.gl/zUPJW - Someone else mentioned this book. I thought I'd include it in the list, as it was mentioned in passing and I didn't know if it made it into our curated list of resources. :)

"The War on Insulin" blog by Peter Attia, M.D. http://goo.gl/ZdekQ - A great resource for alternative ways of thinking about nutrition, written by a doctor, based on much of his own personal experiences and engagement with the medial community. 

two weeks without social media? - part 2.

things i hope this hiatus will bring/allow/work in my life... 

*finish my finals in a timely manner. This is more than a ploy to get through the work I have left for the end of the semester. One less Trifecta of Distraction will be a nice byproduct, though. 

*slow down and re-connect with the embodied life happening around me. At any given time, if my phone is out, I am probably checking Twitter replies, sifting through e-mail, getting pertinent information from someone via text, searching Facebook for the address of an upcoming event, only to be distracted by photos of someone's cute baby, planning that next masterful Words with Friends move, reading an article from Good or Slate that came through my Twitter feed, and looking for a recipe I KNOW I pinned yesterday, all while trying to have a conversation with my husband about how our respective days were [a bit of exaggeration & hyperbole, but you get the point]. This is grotesque. He is so patient with me, despite my having been sucked into this vortex. This hiatus will force me to slow down and re-connect with him in a more meaningful way, than I am able to, when all of these other things are moving around. 

*re-gain focus. If I am living my life less in time-compressed communication, maybe I can start to re-learn how to read a NYT article without getting antsy, or read more than a chapter of a textbook at a time, without stopping to check out what's going on in the Twitterverse. I realize Rome wasn't built in a day, but one has to (re-)start somewhere.  

*embrace quality time. maybe I'll start to read books more, generally speaking. Or maybe I'll take up some hobbies that I have been neglecting for far too long. maybe all of these things will give me more time to have embodied experiences over coffee with those whom I care about. 

*remember. if nothing else, maybe I'll remember a little of what my life was like before it was consumed with social media. 

*be still and know. Psalm 46:10. This is one of my favorite verses in the entire canon. It is always so comforting, but also challenging. It is probably both, because I really struggle to sit still, in body and in spirit. 

I think that's it for now. I'll update the list in future posts, if any other hopes for this time occur to me. 

two weeks without social media? - part 1.

I have been thinking about this for several weeks, since I first read this article from Mashable, which I no doubt came across in my Twitter feed. While reading about these folks who willfully disconnected for two weeks, I found myself thinking, "Wow, that would be really nice," while I was simultaneously horrified at the idea of being/feeling so disconnected for two weeks. In our age of compressed time, two weeks feels like an eternity.


A trip to the grocery store on Sunday afternoon confirmed my need for this hiatus. While I was gone, my husband needed to use my iPhone (he calls it my "super phone") to access a web-based tutorial, in order to do some work on one of our vehicles. He gave me his phone, should I need it for anything like, say, making a phone call. I wrote out my short grocery list with pen on notebook paper and headed out to the store. There were many moments where I felt compelled to check my piece of paper against information located within my web of social media: a recipe I'd saved to Pinterest or a basic Google search to confirm how many ounces of shredded cheese are in a cup, or...the list goes on.  I even went to two different grocery stores and I couldn't check-in to either of them on Foursquare. That's two points lost, never to be recovered. :P His phone was too so simple, that I couldn't figure out how to lock it, after I used it to make a phone call. I had to wait a few minutes for it to lock itself.


I may in fact be an iPhone user for life. I've heard once you cross over, it's hard to "go back" to using anything else. This sadly might be true for me. The time spent without my phone, makes me think that if my life were a TV sitcom/dramedy, my iPhone, with its handheld window into an abundance of social media, might actually be an unspoken "character,"in my narrative, similar to the way that "the city" is a character in Sex in the City. This is clearly not good.


While social media (specifically Twitter and Facebook) help me to stay connected with those in my life, and those with whom I enjoy engaging in conversation around ministry-centric issues, it is clear that social media consumes many aspects of my life. Not only am I constantly multi-tasking with it, I'm finding it hard to concentrate long enough to read anything longer than 500 words. Anything. Books for class. Books for fun. This great, courageous, and important article from Desmond Tutu. Plus, in the face of end of the semester deadlines, Twitter, Facebook and Pinterest undoubtedly become the Trifecta of Procrastination and All Things Timesuck. The end of the semester is near. I don't have that much to do to finish, but I already feel myself getting sucked into this Trifecta.


I will still use my phone, just not those apps pertaining to social media. I'll still text and e-mail and make phone calls. I'm just turning down the noise a bit. I plan to blog honestly about my experience. While blogs clearly fall into the category of social media, no one can accuse me of using this thing too much. I think any attempt at blogging has suffered at the prevalence of other social media in my life. I'd like for writing about things that matter to me, those which I can discuss with others, to be a creative discipline, one that I engage with some regularity. Maybe this time of disconnection will allow me to cultivate such a mentality and a discipline, as I reconnect with my soul.


Please see my part two of this post, wherein I list what else I hope these two weeks will bring. Assuming I can make it.

authenticity required.

It seems that older you get, the more difficult it is to encapsulate your life story into just a few pages. I’m still working on my CPE residency application essays. 5 major questions: one about my life in general, including major events/milestones, current family dynamics and other social supportive relationships; one about my faith journey, another recounting an incident where I’ve helped someone and my evaluation of it, a chronology of work/vocational history topped off with a statement about current work relationships, and lastly one covering my expectations of CPE/what I hope to gain from it. It’s a lot to fit in a small amount of space. I’ve heard the supervisors/application readers get bored and/or stop reading after about 10 pages of essay-writing. So, that is my goal. It is daunting, to say the least.

I have been thinking about what I will say for months. Still, every time I try to compress my life into so few pages, the judgmental, blinking cursor at the top of an entirely-too-blank page stares back at me.  I wasn’t concerned about including everything, but certainly the important things. I was concerned with including the right things. The things that exemplify who I am and why CPE is a good fit for me. It has been overwhelming.            

I then decided to try a more surgical, straightforward, logical approach. I attempt to divide the appropriate number of pages over each question. This too proved difficult. I began to answer the first question, knowing I only had 2.5 pages to do so. I wrote and wrote with honesty. When I arrived at the end of my page quota, I realized I’d only said a third of what I’d hoped to say. Yet another failed approach.

It occurred to me that I was being entirely too chronological and not nearly relational enough. While I am still young, there is no way I will be able to fit all of the major events from my most recent, formative years (everything since college?) into the aforementioned page confines. While there are many important chronological mile markers that have influenced my life in the past five to ten years and continue to influence who I am today (graduating from college, getting married, moving to Austin, starting seminary), for the purposes of these essays, which reflect WHY I’m applying in the first place, I decided to limit my responses to the things which have been the most formative to who I am today, sitting here, attempting to tell my story. While there are many important events worth mentioning, for the most part, that which has been the most meaningful are the people in my life. Those who continue to impact my development. Those who support and challenge me in both positive and difficult ways. 

Perhaps this is an obvious conclusion. I think it is one I needed to draw in order to write all that I have to say for my essays, in a way that is authentic. I think realizing this is the only way I could say what I need to about myself, who I am, who and what I love, where I have been, and where I hope to end up in ten pages or less. 

hello, Blogger.

Twitter. Posterous. Tumblr. Now Blogger. I have all of these - they serve different functions. What pushed me over the edge to add this to the repetoire was the desire to comment on fellow Blogger's sites. So, here it is. I'll probably use it for other things also. For now, here it is.

School is about to start. I'm actually pretty excited about it. It doesn't feel like flimsy excitement that will fade as I start to disappear under hundreds of pages of reading and papers that are due all too soon. This summer, I completed field education (SPM), where I stepped out of the classroom and into the world. I spent most of my summer working with street dependent youth in Austin. It was a ridiculously wonderful experience, but also a little emotionally exhausting. So, I think I'm ready to step back into the classroom for a little while. 

Class starts after Labor Day. I still need to order books. Oh well. There's no harm in using the books on reserve in the library as I endure the seemingly endless waiting game, where textbooks take their time to arrive by mail. It's worth it. I don't like to pay retail for anything, least of all textbooks. 

I'll get a taste of the semester this week with a Senate retreat and New Student Orientation. I'm determined not to be so overwhelmed this semester - or if I am feeling overwhelmed, I'd like to respond as if I'm not flailing around, half-drowning in the deep end of the swimming pool. 

If anything, my internship taught me the value of the present moment and to examine what I'm thankful for today. I'd really like to carry this over into the coming semester. 

Today, I'm thankful for: new & familiar faces at a seminary community event.