The church is empty this morning.
I took a moment to walk through the sanctuary.
Pausing to drink in the quiet.
And to take a deep breath.
My list for what I need to do today waits on my desk.
But for a moment
In that space
I could just be.
Holding my breath.
Waiting.
Overwhelmed
Maybe we begin here.
With my saying I feel angry.
And embarrassed.
And ashamed.
Overwhelmed.
By both the words and the cavalier attitude on the recently released video of Donald Trump talking to Billy Bush about women. Besides the uproar it has created in presidential politics, the truth is those few minutes of video also reflect something deeper and more pervasive in our culture which we need to acknowledge and to name and to talk about and to come to grips with. Let me be clear, what I am asking you to think about with me this morning is not about politics. Or, more correctly, it is about much more than politics. It is about what happens everyday at school and in churches and at work and in the grocery store.
In addition to feeling overwhelmed by the video, I was also overwhelmed…
And angry and embarrassed and ashamed by some of the response to what was seen and said. I feel angry that, too easily, this attitude and this type of language is written off as locker room banter which it is not, but even if it was it would be wrong. I am embarrassed and ashamed by the way the complicated meaning and experience of forgiveness and repentance is being bantered around by fellow clergy and religious leaders who should know better. Their attitudes and comments only add to the long list of reasons so many shake their head and turn their back on a faith and a tradition which means so much to me and shapes so much of who I am and how I try to live.
But mostly, I am overwhelmed by the reality of the circumstances in which women and girls find themselves. And embarrassed and ashamed that while on one hand I realized it, on the other hand I really did not know in that I knew in my head, but not in my gut. Here is what I mean.
- A 2011 article in the New York Times reported that 1 in 5 women, 20%, have been victims of sexual assault.
- A February 2015 article in The Huffington Post reported that 1 in 3 women, ages 18-34, have been sexually harassed at work.
- A United Nations study found that in the United States 83% of girls 12-16 have experienced some form of sexual harassment either in person or online.
And, there is more.
In an NPR report One Tweet Unleashes A Torrent of Stories of Sexual Assault, writer Kelly Oxford shared her story of the first time she was sexually assaulted. She was 12, she said, when a man on a city bus grabbed her genitals and smiled. After she told her story, she invited other women to share their stories, as well. In the two days following, she received more than 13,000 tweets from other women sharing their experiences of sexual abuse or harassment, many of them doing so for the first time.
But it is not just about out there.
On a city bus or captured on a hot mic.
In response to the video and the ensuing whirlwind, on Friday, having never said anything about it before, a clergy colleague of mine shared how she was sexually assaulted at a church event. And on her blog, Jan Edmiston who is a Presbyterian minister and currently the co-Moderator of the Presbyterian Church’s General Assembly, wrote about sexual harassment in the church. Included in what she wrote was this: “I’ve been informally asking young clergywomen if men still make inappropriate comments to them and I hear a resounding yes.”
Overwhelmed.
And, angry and embarrassed and ashamed.
Because, just going by statistics, it has happened to some of you.
And, to your mothers and sisters and wives and daughters.
As the Apostle Paul wrote, “In the face of all of this, what am I to say…”
Despite the knot in my stomach and the lump in my throat, here is what I believe.
I believe as human beings
As men
As Christians
As a church
We can be better and can do better.
We must be better and must do better.
Both wondering why this even needs to be said and also knowing why it needs to be said, Jim Wallis, of the Sojourners Community in Washington D.C. wrote:
“Women are human beings made in the image of God regardless of their relationship to a man. This isn’t a woman’s issue; it’s a human issue. Women don’t need protection from men; women need men to stop being predators, enables and bystanders.”
In response to our email exchange earlier in the week, Megan Hansen wrote this and posted it on our congregation’s Facebook page this morning and from it created the graphic for the front of the bulletin. Megan wrote:
It’s Sunday
Time to think about what really matters
What is true
What is good
What looks like the Kingdom of God
But when we leave this place,
We don’t always watch our words so carefully
They slip out
As if they don’t matter at all
Because we live in a world
Where it doesn’t seem to matter what we say
People say whatever they want
Careless words
Ugly words
Jokes that aren’t funny
And it isn’t stopped
It is even defended
But our words do matter
They can hurt or they can heal
They can be true or they can cast lies as truth
They can build up or tear down
They can be full of love or full of hate
As we leave this place
Let us watch our words
Let us put more beauty into the world
To overwhelm the ugly
The untrue
The destructive
More love
More truth
More peace
It’s Sunday
We, you and I, especially those of us who are male, need to stop being bystanders. As I said when I began, this is not about politics. It is about what women and girls, our wives and sisters and mothers and daughters, experience each and every day in our culture. And, I am sorry to say, that for far too long the church has been and continues to be complicit in creating and sustaining that culture. We are the ones who need to repent of that and to change our ways. In whatever way we can we are to stand strong on the side of what is honorable and just and faithful. We are to teach and defend and empower both our young women and our young men. And, we are to rebuke the lies and the language and the attitudes and the actions which demean and belittle and destroy.
While it has not always been easy, I have always believed that if you hear it or read it in the headlines in the news, we should be able to talk about it in this space. As I thought about the events of the last week I wondered about the possibility of getting our middle school youth and our high school youth together. Boys in one room. Girls in another. And show them the videotape and engage them in a conversation. And then to bring them together and to help them talk about expectations and image and respect and what they can do to support and to help and to care for each other. And, it is important for those of you who have children younger than mine to have the same conversation with your sons and your daughters. And, the rest of us, no matter what our age or the age of our children or grandchildren, need to have the very same conversation, as well.
Maybe the video is too much or the language too offensive, but the conversation is crucial. Let us figure out how to have it and what we might do so we can build up rather than tear down. So that our words and our actions and our very presence affirms the humanity and the dignity of each and every human being and we begin to live in ways which overwhelm the ugly, the untrue, the destructive with more love, more truth, more justice and more peace.
A Room Called Remember*
*with thanks to Frederick Buechner for the title
My memory told me it was Immanuel Kant, but when I fact checked my memory, which I need to do more and more, I discovered I was wrong. (Which also happens more and more.) It was the French philosopher Rene Descartes. I won’t risk the French since the only way I passed 10th grade French in high school was my Mom promised the teacher I would never take French again. But in English, the way Descartes’ famous philosophical proposition is usually translated is: I think therefore I am.
So, this morning, alongside Soren Kierkegaard and Bernard Williams and other renowned philosophers who have mounted an intellectual and philosophical challenge to Descartes’ proposition, I add this TV commercial which I saw as I was having breakfast one morning while on vacation. (And, I bet you thought I was going to speak this morning about esoteric philosophical ideas.) The commercial was for a one off supplement which claimed to improve memory as one grows older. But it was the tagline which caught my attention.
“Your memories make you who you are.”
There is some truth to this, I think.
When families gather we retell stories.
Stories which usually begin with “Remember when…”
Stories which both shape and reinforce your family narrative. Who you are and what you value and what it means to be a family. What it means to be your family.
And as well as families, good friends remember and tell their stories. Stories which sustain your friendship even if you have not seen each other in years or when you now live on opposite sides of the world. And, as citizens and as a nation, we remember and tell stories reinforcing the narrative of what it means to be an American and what it means to be patriotic and the values for which the United States stands and which she holds dear. And, we see what happens when someone rejects or objects to those stories or has a different story to tell.
“Your memories make you who you are.”
And, while this morning is about memories…
Both what you remember and what memories you want to make,
What I would ask you to think about is primarily not about family or friends or country, but about Jesus. And, God. And faith. And, church. And about the values wrapped up in all of those. Values which we do our best to hold close to the center of our lives.
As I leapfrogged from that commercial to this morning, I remembered a book written by Frederick Buechner entitled A Room Called Remember. And, it struck me that that is what this room is and what we do when we are in this room. We remember. Amidst the challenges and complexity and pressures of life which we all face and feel, here we are reminded of and remember that Something More. That Something Other. However you describe or name that More or Other.
God.
The Force.
The Ground of Being.
Your Higher power.
“Your memories make you who you are.”
And, this room is also a place where we remember we are part of the larger human family. A family which was reinforced over and over again for me in that song I learned as a child. While the imagery and language is no longer appropriate or works like it once did, the message remains, I remember.
“Red and yellow, black and white all are precious in God’s sight.”
“Your memories make you who you are.”
And, in this room called remember we are reminded of things like:
Gratitude.
Grace.
Forgiveness.
Compassion.
Justice.
Peace.
“Your memories make you who you are.”
And, this room remembers and holds those holy moments which mark our lives.
Baptisms.
Confirmations.
Weddings.
Funerals.
I remember a conversation I had with a long time member of Bedford Presbyterian who moved to California a number of years ago. He said for many years he thought church buildings, even a building as beautiful as this, were superfluous. An unnecessary expense when there was so much need and so much work for faith communities to do. Unnecessary that is until it came time for his daughter’s wedding and he walked her down the aisle.
Holy moments.
Holy places.
“Your memories make you who you are.”
And, then there is Jesus.
Wrapping arms around the blind and the sick.
Including the excluded.
Remembering the forgotten.
Jesus…
Blessed are the peacemakers…
You are the light of the world…
Love God.
Love neighbor.
Treat others the way you would like to be treated.
Jesus.
Weaving together a community which was and is so very different from the prevailing order and expectations and assumptions of the day. I remember.
“Your memories make you who you are.”
Many of you have heard me use this quote before.
At the risk of wearing it out, I share it with you again.
Also, by Frederick Buechner.
When you remember me, it means that you have carried something of who I am with you, that I have left some mark of who I am on who you are. It means that you can summon me back to your mind even though countless years and miles may stand between us. It means that if we meet again you will know me. It means that even after I die you can still see my face and hear my voice and speak to me in your heart.
Which brings me to this question.
What do you remember about Jesus?
What mark has he left on your life?
Is a part of your being here…
Our being here…
That which provides a reminder and an opportunity to summon him back to your heart and mind? To hear again what he has to say about your life and our life and about who you and we are called to be and what you and we are called to do even though 2000+ years stand between then and now? If memories do, in fact, make you who you are not just as a person, but as a person of faith, what do you remember…want to remember…
About Jesus?
About God?
About holy places and holy moments?
About awe and forgiveness and gratitude and grace?
About the memories you still wait to be made?
“Your memories make you who you are.”
Take What You Need
I spent much of the past week thinking about all of you.
And, about our being here together after a summer of going in different directions.
And about the choir singing and Sunday Spirit beginning.
And a host of other opportunities for ministry and mission about to begin as we move into the fall. And, thinking about our small ‘colony of heaven’ and what that means and about what we are being called to do and who we are being called to be. As I did, I read this online post written by Trudy Smith in RELEVANT Magazine. The title of her article is Why I Go To Church Even When I Don’t Feel Like It. She writes:
“I realized that church was not a place to go because everyone had their act together and was doing things right. It was more like a refuge where all sorts of people could gather to remind each other of the story we were all in—the one about how God loves us, and is renewing our world and our souls in spite of all the damage that’s been done. It was more like a school for conversion where we were all stumbling through basic lessons on how to love.”
I like that.
Church as a reminder of the story we are all in.
As a school for conversion.
Together somehow stumbling through basic lessons on how to love.
That matches so much of what church is for me.
And, what worship is for me.
I don’t know about you, but, in terms of my own faith and my striving to be my best self and to do what I believe God calls me and wants me to do, the truth is…
I stumble more than I run.
I fall short more often than I reach the goal.
I feel broken and weary more often than I feel whole.
Multiple times each day I trip over the person who annoys me or who appears to stand against me more often than I see the imprint of the holy in them as I believe and hope and trust it is in me. What about you?
The truth is I come to church because it is more than just my job.
It is a hospital for my soul.
And, a respite center for my weariness and discouragement.
It is a confessional where I can be honest (or at least as honest as I can be) and be reminded, again, of a love that will not let me go. And, the place where I find shoulders to lean on and those with whom I can share my joy. It is a place which reminds me to say Thank you even when what I want to do is grit my teeth. And, that holy reminder that in the midst of the craziness and violence and hatred of the world, there is a foundation of goodness and purpose and strength that I can turn towards and draw on and believe in and stand with.
I come to church not because I am perfect or to be with perfect people.
I come to church to be with people who, like me, are doing their level best to find their way.
To be with others who, like me, hear some siren song in the words and wisdom and witness of Jesus that inspires them and calls them and challenges them to see beyond their own imperfections and the imperfections of today to the promise and possibility of God’s tomorrow.
I come to church to be with you.
So, as we begin another year together here is my hope.
Both for you and for me.
When you are here, take what you need.
If you need courage, take courage.
If you need forgiveness, take forgiveness.
If you need strength, lean on me or the person next to you.
If you need rest or a place to stop, sit back and close your eyes.
If you need a place to say Thank You, here it is.
If you need a place to make a difference, join hands and pitch in.
If you need healing, we will add our prayers to yours.
If you need a place to see beyond the headlines in the news, we will do our best to remind you of that long arc of history and of the grand dream of God meant for us and for all.
Take what you need.
But, here’s the catch. (There is always a catch, isn’t there.)
Take what you need, yes. And give what you can.
There is no magic here. No magic wand. No magic words.
Just you and me just as we are, human and holy at the very same time.
Amazing and awful.
Lost and found.
Broken trying to be whole.
But that may be enough.
Maybe even more than enough.
So here is my hope.
My second hope for you and me.
When you have strength, share it.
When you feel called to pray, by all means pray.
As you have room in your heart and strength in your soul, rejoice with those whose joy overflows and weep with those who weep. Stand with them all and refuse to let them go.
And, as you are able, wear your faith on your sleeve.
Not to prove you are better than others or that we are better than others,
Or that we know the way and they don’t.
Instead, wear your faith on your sleeve as a sign of hope and promise.
To remind them and to remind me of goodness and grace and gratitude and hope.
To remind them and to remind me of the God who will not let any of us go.
Take what you need.
Faith.
Hope.
Strength.
Forgiveness.
Compassion.
Courage.
And, give what you can.
Faith.
Hope.
Strength.
Compassion.
Courage.
As we do our best to be God’s people in this place and in God’s world entrusted now to our care and keeping striving to follow in the footsteps of Jesus walking in the direction of the dream of God’s Kingdom come.
So back to that article which I read earlier this week. Trudy Smith writes:
I’ve slowly learned that going to church can be about something other than moral requirement, fear of punishment, social connection, getting spiritually fed, or even looking for likeminded people with whom to pursue justice in the world. Going to church can be about holding this space in which to experience the grace of God together, learn together, fail and forgive and stumble forward together.
May it be so, O God. May it be so.
It’s Complicated!
Other than our saying The Lord’s Prayer together.
Or, our singing the Doxology together.
These are the words we probably say together the most:
We place our trust in God.
God calls us to be the Church;
to celebrate God’s presence;
to love and serve others;
to seek justice and to resist evil.
In life, in death, in life beyond death, God is with us.
Thanks be to God.
We began our worship this morning with those words.
And, we will end our Annual meeting with them this afternoon.
They are the words we say together each time we celebrate a baptism as a reminder of who we are and an affirmation of what we believe.
But, it’s complicated, isn’t it?
All this God stuff?
Complicated putting into practice what we say we believe.
Complicated taking the hard words of Bible seriously.
Love your enemies.
Extend hospitality to strangers.
Do not repay anyone evil for evil.
Live peaceably with all.
Overcome evil with good.
Treat others [all others, not some others] as you would like to be treated.
It is complicated being the church and being the church together.
If it were only one half of the equation it would be so much easier.
If it was only about celebrating God’s presence.
Or, only about loving God.
Or, only about God with us now and always.
It would be easier.
If it was only caring for each other, many of whom we have known for some time.
We could manage all that pretty well.
At least most of the time.
And, in fact, we do.
Meals are prepared and shared.
Phone calls and visits are made.
We stand alongside one another both in times of need and times of celebration and joy.
We do our best to strengthen the network and the fabric of our community.
Or, if it were only Sunday mornings…
This beautiful space.
Wonderful music.
The laughter and energy of our children.
The opportunity to add our prayers to the prayers of others.
All of which helps us to stop for a moment and to reset and re-balance our lives in the midst of the craziness of life as it often is for many of us.
If it were only this much, it would be so much easier.
But, God, it seems, doesn’t seem to know when to leave well enough alone.
Because into the equation, God pulls all these other people into our space.
The stranger.
Those who are hungry.
The prisoner.
Our enemies.
And, if that were not enough, God then pushes us out the door telling us…
(Commanding us if you believe the imperative voice of the verb)…
To seek justice.
To resist evil.
To serve others.
Whether they look like us or think like us or believe what we believe.
When that happens, it all gets complicated…quickly.
I found myself thinking about all of this and wanting to share my thoughts with you for two reasons. First, today is our Annual Meeting. We will conduct our business decently and in order. We will read and receive reports and information about everything from the Mistletoe Mart to our building homes in Nicaragua. From the restoration of our building to how we open our doors to provide a place for those who would otherwise be sleeping outside. We will review income and expenditures and endowment fund performance and dream about the future. In other words we will acknowledge, at leaset for a moment, that tension with which we live between in here and out there; between being mindful of and caring for our community and meeting the basic human needs of others. We are fortunate. More often than not we are able to balance the in here and the out there pretty well. You are thoughtful and generous and are willing to lean into the discomfort of talking about and wrestling with challenging issues and concerns. But, it is worthwhile, I think, to remember and to acknowledge that tension as we review the past and turn towards tomorrow.
The second reason I wanted to share these thoughts with you is this. To, once again, remind you that the culture in which we live is fundamentally different than the one in which many of us grew up. David Brooks’ Op-ed piece in Tuesday’s New York Times and the feedback it received both from Letters to the Editors and in online responses highlight something of the tension in which we live as Christians and as a community of faith. Brooks begins his Op-ed piece with this:
Over the past few years, there has been a sharp rise in the number of people who are atheist, agnostic or without religious affiliation. A fifth of all adults and a third of the youngest adults fit into this category. (New York Times, Tuesday, February 3, 2015) A number of our children and grandchildren are covered by that statistic.
And, to add to our head shaking, what about this?
- Nearly 40% of the people within a five mile radius of the Bedford Village Green have no religious affiliation.
- And, when asked young adults describe religion as narrow minded, homophobic and anti-intellectual.
- Time and again, not only commentators, but the general public highlight the most narrow and narrow-minded religious perspective and blame religion for much of the violence they see and read about and, in some cases, experience.
All this describes an understanding of religion that not only others don’t believe in, but one I don’t believe in. But it is into that world I am to go. We are to go. Finding ways to express and to live our deepest and best values and to embody what we understand of the promises and possibility of God in a way that opens rather than closes hearts and minds and souls.
It’s complicated.
Maybe it has always been.
But here we are.
Here you are.
I assume because there is something about this community that adds value to your life and something about who we are and what we do that turns you towards the best of who you imagine yourself to be. The best of who God calls you to be. Now, how do you take all that and live it out in this community of faith and carry it out into the world out there? How do you take…
Blessing.
Encouragement.
Inspiration.
Caring.
Concern.
Compassion.
And, a longing for justice and peace.
All those things which you find here out into the world?
Doing what you can…
Doing what we can…
To turn the world and point others in the direction of God’s Kingdom come?
It’s complicated.
Isn’t it?
All this God stuff.
Rethinking Confirmation
Each year, for the past 30+ years, I have sat down with a group of high school students to do what I can to help them rethink their understanding of that which we know and name as God. In the back of my mind is always the title of J.B. Phillips’ book, written more than a half century ago, Your God Is Too Small. My hope and my goal always has been to help whoever is sitting around the table with me to discover a God who is large enough to capture our imagination and attention. But, after our conversation last night and then this afternoon preparing for a discussion of Phyllis Tickle’s book The Great Emergence I am beginning to think I have been going at the conversation backwards. If Tickle and others are correct that the paradigm has shifted from believing, behaving and belonging to belonging, behaving and believing then I have. The conversations I lead tend to be focused on how we think about and imagine and talk about God and how we understand Jesus and how we read the Bible in an attempt to give young adults space to ask questions and to explore new ideas, and as a counter-balance to the narrow understanding of God and church and faith that circulates in our culture.
But maybe that approach focuses too much on how it used to be and not enough on the community of faith which is emerging. Maybe we should be focusing more on belonging and behaving than on how we think and talk about what we believe. In many ways the model of belonging and behaving is the one that provides the foundation for our service learning trips which, over the years, has had a significant impact on the lives of many young adults. A church where I worked years ago, which has an outstanding youth ministry program, does an excellent job on the belonging piece. While what I learned while I was on the staff there continues to inform the work I do with young adults, I need to reclaim more of what that program does so well. And, especially as the fabric of our culture feels like it is unravelling for so many and the divide between different groups of people seem sharper and more pronounced than ever, I need to think about how we structure honest conversations about how Christians are to behave in the midst of that complexity.
Something to think about.
Any suggestions?
Comments?
Ideas?