"love, love, love"--a meditation for Maundy Thursday

it's not great, but I'm okay with it for now. It's about half the length of one of Richard's average sermons, so...7 minutes? I think that's plenty. It's really a dinner party, not a listen-to-Teri-party!

Rev. Teri Peterson
Ridgefield-Crystal Lake Presbyterian Church
love, love, love
John 15.12-17
5 April 2007—Maundy Thursday

Jesus said:
‘This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father. You did not choose me but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name. I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am sure we have all heard these words, or words like them, a hundred times. “Love one another.” “Love your neighbor.” “Love your enemy.” “The greatest of these is love.” And then there’s “All you need is love” and “I will always love you” and “love lifts us up where we belong.”

Love is a word that we toss around freely—we love pizza, American Idol, ice cream, our new cars, our friends, our churches, our families, ourselves, and maybe even Jesus. We use the word “love” in a thousand different ways and yet when we think about “love” we almost always think simply of romantic love. Sometimes I wonder if the word has lost its meaning completely—if we love our neighbor, love one another, love God, and love mashed potatoes all the same way.

I was reading recently about the development of the myth that in “Eskimo” there is a preponderance of words for snow. The myth runs anywhere from 7 words to about 400…but it’s just a myth. In the two main language groups of the native people in the Arctic areas, there are a mere 2 words that actually simply designate whether snow is still in the air or on the ground, and if you use all the variations, it might reach 24 but that’s actually rather generous . Similarly, there are 4 Greek words for love, which designate different kinds of love…but sometimes they overlap, and we translate all of them in English as “love” without regard to the nuances.

Here in this speech, and throughout this section of John’s gospel, Jesus uses the word “love” liberally—rather like 21st century Americans! But the word he uses for love isn’t Moulin Rouge Elephant Love Medley love. And though he uses the word “friend” over and over, he doesn’t us the word for friendly or brotherly affection and care either. The word Jesus uses is agape, the self-sacrificing, giving without expectation of reward, Aslan-going-to-the-Witch-so-Edward-can-stay-with-his-brother-and-sisters love. No wonder Jesus says there is no greater love than this—to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. There is literally nothing else to give than life. When Jesus says “love,” we see that this is love, the verb. This is love, the action. This is love, the boundary-crossing, hand-dirtying, DOing, and even dying, way—not just a warm fuzzy feeling.

This kind of love is a little different than just another silly love song. And Jesus doesn’t just say “I love you,” he says “love one another the way I have loved you.” He doesn’t just give, he doesn’t just love, he doesn’t just pull us close to his heart, he calls.

Jesus says we are his friends—not his servants, not his followers, not even his disciples—his friends. As long as we follow the commandment—to love one another—we are friends of the Lord But this friendship isn’t just about our feelings. It is about being called. By naming us his friends, Jesus draws us into his circle and shares himself with us. By naming us his friends, Jesus also calls us to share him, and to share ourselves, with others through love—not just with love songs and sappy hallmark cards, either. This is no monochromatic love. This is love that gets down on the floor and washes feet, that touches lepers, that eats with sinners, that spends itself for enemies as well as friends, that goes to where gritty life is lived and breaks itself open for the world. This is love that lays itself and its bearer on the line, exposed, vulnerable…and full. This is love that gives and also calls. This is love that breaks bread and pours wine, that hosts a dinner party for every one of God’s children, that calls us out into the world to live like the beloved people we are. There is no greater love than this—to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. Because we have known such love, we too can love.
Thanks be to God, and may it be so.
Amen.

(immediately followed by "Bridge Over Troubled Water" in a new arrangement by one of our resident acoustic guitar players.)

what happened to spring?

it's snowing.

it was 70 degrees yesterday. Now it's 26 degrees.

It's been grey and nasty (and raining) for two weeks, but at least it wasn't cold. Now it's grey and nasty and SNOWING. forecast for Easter Sunday? snow. no accumulation, just flurries, but honestly...come on. it was spring, and now it's not. It's like some evil plan to jerk us around--get our hopes up after the bitterly cold winter, only to dash them in the snow again. ugh.

Having said that, keep reading below for info on our 30 Hour Famine. I'm cold, but they're starving. please help!

dots of Holy Week

• listening to the President's press conferences makes me angry. I really can't listen to too much or it makes me crazy. The last thing he said in his press conference today involved the word "civilization" RE us and not "them"--I could not believe my ears. Except I could. sad.
  
• I love Holy Week.
• I love Holy Week more when I don't have to preach in the middle of it.
• I love Holy Week even more when the Senior Pastor isn't sick during it, causing me extreme anxiety RE Easter Sunday's sermon. (the rest of his family is better already but for some reason his illness is hanging on.)
• I am taking the Confirmation Class to a Seder at the synagogue next door tonight. This should be exciting.
• But probably not veggie friendly, which means I need a snack.
• I was so excited about Passover actually falling during Holy Week....but that was way back in the day, before I knew I'd have to write a Maundy Thursday meditation. Now it just feels like another thing I have to do. But I know it will be great.
• Ditto the people elsewhere who have mentioned that there seem to be a lot more sales calls this week than usual--what is UP with that? We're a church, people! We're kind of busy. Our admin hangs up on any call that is computer-generated or that begins with "hi, I'm from _______ (someplace we've never heard of or that we don't generally do business with)." While it seems horribly unChristian, she does it anyway and it really cuts down the time she spends on the phone. In theory.
• I don't like thunderstorms. We had a HUGE one last night and this morning. I got very little sleep. My cats also were a little freaked out.
• speaking of cats, mine are insane. In case you were wondering.
• Is anyone else slightly intrigued by the CNN AC360 special this week (Wed. and Thurs. night 10pmEastern) called "What is a Christian?" I kind of want to watch it just to see. What are we, according to the news media?
  
• I'm hungry....snack time is upon us.
  

Easter in Palestine...

This is a statement by Palestinian Christian NGOs "Ahead of Easter." This issue, these people, and this area is dear to me. Please pray for the Christians in this area, as this is a particularly frustrating and dangerous time.

~~~~

"We are about to welcome the Easter season after forty days of fasting. To us, Easter is a reminder of the suffering, crucifixion, and most importantly, the resurrection of Jesus. In our Land, traditional celebrations have been taking place for centuries, such as the processions of local communities, scouts, participating in Palm Sunday, and Saturday of the Holy Fire celebrations from the Church of the Holy Sepulcher.

"Processions and traditional celebrations are governed by the Status Quo over the course of many years. Such celebrations have been taking placed uninterrupted. However, in the last few years the Occupation authorities are impeding the celebrations, especially the Saturday of the Holy Fire celebrations of the Orthodox Church. The Occupation authorities are preventing worshipers from reaching the Church of the Holy Sepulcher or celebrating in the yard on the roof top of the Church, and are preventing the traditional joyful celebration march and the procession of the banners.

"Easter celebrations are hostage to the whims of the Occupation authorities, as part of policies that are racist and that aim to push Christians to immigrate. The Occupation authorities are imposing strict restrictions on the movement of Christians during Easter week, and are preventing Christians from reaching the churches, and are adopting a policy that prevents Palestinian Christians from other parts of the West Bank from reaching Jerusalem to celebrate Easter. Also, barriers are put near the gates of the old city of Jerusalem, especially in the area leading to the Christian quarter, Herod’s Gate, and the roads leading to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in order to deny worshipers their right to pray freely. A new phenomena now, is the huge presence of Israeli police inside the Church of the Holy Sepulcher with their weapons, which violates the sanctity of the Church and religious traditions.

"Therefore, we, members of the Christian community in Jerusalem, are calling upon our fellow Christians around the world, and the Heads of Churches as well, to put an end to Israeli violations of our right to worship freely in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, so that Christians will be able to enter the Church to pray."

Source: Palestinian Christian NGOs, 20 March. 2007

Stony Silence--a sermon for Palm Sunday

This sermon is preceded (at 11:00, anyway) by an anthem which you can listen to here:
Ain't No Rock Gonna Shout For Me

Rev. Teri Peterson
Ridgefield-Crystal Lake Presbyterian Church
Stony Silence
Luke 19.28-40
Palm Sunday C—April 1 2007

After Jesus had said this, he went on ahead, going up to Jerusalem.
When he had come near Bethphage and Bethany, at the place called the Mount of Olives, he sent two of the disciples, saying, ‘Go into the village ahead of you, and as you enter it you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone asks you, “Why are you untying it?” just say this: “The Lord needs it.” ’ So those who were sent departed and found it as he had told them. As they were untying the colt, its owners asked them, ‘Why are you untying the colt?’ They said, ‘The Lord needs it.’ Then they brought it to Jesus; and after throwing their cloaks on the colt, they set Jesus on it. As he rode along, people kept spreading their cloaks on the road. As he was now approaching the path down from the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the deeds of power that they had seen, saying,
‘Blessed is the king
who comes in the name of the Lord!
Peace in heaven,
and glory in the highest heaven!’
Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, ‘Teacher, order your disciples to stop.’ He answered, ‘I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout aloud.’
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh, if these walls could talk. In the 135 years they’ve been standing here, they have heard and seen a lot of things. Imagine the stories they could tell—stories of joy and pain, births and deaths, pastors coming and going in memorable ways. Stories of tears and laughter, games of sardines and hours of worship, music from everywhere in the world with all kinds of accompaniment. Stories of life and death, of war and peace, of love and disagreement, of family and friends. These walls have stories to tell…and I suspect the walls of every one of our homes and schools has stories as well.

But isn’t it so much more interesting to hear them from people? To hear the nuances, the emotions, the memories. People tell stories with differing perspectives, with passion, with drama and with heart. The walls could tell the facts, relate the stories, but it wouldn’t be quite the same.

I imagine it’s the same with stones. The stones on the hillsides surrounding Jerusalem, the stones used to construct the city walls, the stones of the streets and the tombs, the stones of houses and the Temple—they have seen and heard a lot of things. The stories they could tell! Stories of Abraham nearly sacrificing Isaac, stories of the great kings and prophets of Israel, stories of the everyday life of people for the past several thousand years—stories of life and love and pain and death and work and exile and food and family and religion. Stories of Jesus. Stories of Stephen and Paul and Peter. Maybe even stories of some of us who’ve walked those streets and hillsides. But would they be able to capture the whole story, the whole feeling, the whole experience? After all, they are just stones, or just walls. They stay put in one place—they can’t see all of my story or yours, they can only see what happens right here, where they are. The story is incomplete.

And yet, Jesus says that if people refuse to shout out, to praise, to sing of the deeds of power and the presence of God, the stones will take up the slack. If the people are silenced by the powers and principalities, the stones will be their voice. They don’t know the whole story, but they’ve been around longer than the people. They don’t have the same emotional attachment to the story, but they too were created by God for praise. They won’t be the same words of praise, but they’ll be praise nonetheless—God is able from stones to raise up witnesses and choruses to tell of the promises and mighty deeds of God.

It seems that, so far anyway, that hasn’t been necessary. On that day, so long ago, that we remember here today, this crowd of Passover Pilgrims ends up witnessing an parade, with disciples tossing coats in the mud and singing in a chant that made it sound like royal procession—raising their voices over the protests of the powers, raising their voices so the rocks could maintain their stony silence, raising their voices in praise of the One who not only came in the name of Lord, but IS the Lord.

Everyone loves a parade, of course. It’s hard not to get excited, not to get swept up in the music, the cheering, the dancing, the costumes, the floats and flowers and balloons. Standing on the sidewalk watching a parade is a time-honored way of celebrating—just think of Thanksgiving without the Macy’s parade, think of the Rose parade, the St. Patrick’s Day parade, the royal processions of countries with kings and queens…even funeral processions are celebrations. In countries where parades not organized by the government are forbidden, people still create processions to mark momentous occasions. In Egypt weddings often turned into parades, full of cars decorated with flowers, horns honking, music blaring, and people cheering from the sidewalks and the apartment windows. People raise their voices and celebrate with parades around the world.

But this parade….this parade is a little different. It’s an impromptu parade, into a city swollen with Passover pilgrims. The people toss coats and tree branches in the mud to protect Jesus and his donkey from being spattered. They shout words like “Hosanna” and “king” and “highest heaven.” They turn this pilgrim’s progress into a royal procession, and there are those who disapprove. With a glare, the Pharisees break their stony silence to demand the silence of others. But Jesus, the one who gives a voice to people who need it, not the one who stifles those voices, simply says what many already know: if the people can’t or won’t speak, the stones will still shout out. They were created for praise too, they know the story too, they see what’s happening—you can’t silence this news. This good news will spread throughout the city, throughout the land, throughout the world…it’s much too late to stop it now.

Well, the Pharisees knew what they were hearing. They knew what it meant…treason. They thought they could stop the good news, but they can’t. Even now they try, but they can’t. Here we are, thousands of years later, shouting the same words, waving palms and throwing coats on the ground, and doing our best to continue proclaiming the good news. But it’s not always an easy task.

You see, the crowd dispersed, leaving Jesus alone with the Twelve. The Pharisees dispersed, too, to the halls of the Temple and the Palace. The stones were left to wonder what would happen next, waiting to hear it from their cousins on the other side of the city, on another hill. And when the time came to eat a meal together, there were only twelve to hear the story, to hear the charge, to wonder at the symbols and the strange nourishment that came from mere bread and wine. And when the time came to go on another procession, to join another parade, there were different people, fewer disciples still. But the story could not be silenced. The shouts may change, but the good news lives on. When the palm branches turn to crosses, when Hosanna turns to Crucify, the followers are the ones who are left. Not the fans , not the admirers, but the disciples. They are the ones who carry on the story so the rocks can maintain their stony silence. Jesus didn’t call groupies, he called disciples. He didn’t call for sidewalk-sitting parade watchers, he called for disciples to sing praises, to share good news. He didn’t call us into community just to wave palm branches, he called us into community to follow him to the cross, and on to the empty tomb and right into new life. He didn’t call us to this table to fill our mouths with food to keep us quiet, he called us to this table to fill our mouths with good news to be shared with the world. Coming to the table is part of enacting that good news—that there is abundant life for all, that God still heals sinners, that different people can be part of one family, that no one is an outcast.

Though the rocks can carry the tune, they can’t carry the whole story. If we are silent, the rocks will take our part—don’t let them. Come to this table to be nourished with both good food and good news, and let the songs of praise for God’s mighty deeds come from us, from our words and from our lives, not from the stones.

May it be so.

Amen.

(1) adapted from from Kierkegaard’s Followers, Not Admirers, as seen here

Friday Five: Holy Week!!

as seen at RevGalBlogPals....Friday Five: Holy Week, Batman!

Well, the Clergy Superbowl is almost upon us, and so, I offer up this Friday Five (with apologies for the irreverent title):

1. Will this Sunday be Palms only, Passion only, or hyphenated?
Palms, palms, more palms, and some rocks.... (a la Luke 19.40). We have Thursday and Friday services that are pretty well attended, so this year no Passion story on Sunday. (we did have it the last two years, apparently...and we probably will again next year....)

2. Maundy Thursday Footwashing: Discuss.
Cool if people can get into it. It doesn't necessarily translate into our culture, though....I've mainly done it with youth, not in "regular" worship.

3. Share a particularly meaningful Good Friday worship experience.
hmmm....my first ever Good Friday worship service was the evening choral service at Fourth Church in 1999. the choir presented the Poulenc Stabat Mater. It was beautiful, and I kept going back to that church. In fact, I was just there on Wednesday too....

4. Easter Sunrise Services--choose one:
a) "Resurrection tradition par excellence!"
b) "Eh. As long as it's sunrise with coffee, I can live with it."
c) "[Yawn] Can't Jesus stay in the tomb just five more minutes, Mom?!?"
umm, somewhere between a and b, but only once a year, people! (there was a tongue-in-cheek suggestion that we make the early-worshippers happy by having weekly sunrise services led by the Associate Pastor. hahahahah!!!) I admit that when I lived in the city, I loved going to the sunrise service on Oak Street Beach. standing on the beach having communion is really cool. But I stopped at Starbucks on my way to said beach every year.

5. Complete this sentence: It just isn't Easter without...
Jesus Christ is Risen Today, to Llanfair, hymn 123 in the Presbyterian Hymnal.

Bonus: Any Easter Vigil aficionados out there? Please share.
My favorite Easter Vigil experience was at Holy Name Cathedral in Chicago. The Cardinal was presiding. I LOVE the telling of all of salvation history from "in the beginning." I just think it's dramatic and also really allows you to see the metanarrative.

evil

That's right, evil.

For Carnival Cruise Lines to show a commercial all about wonderful cruises, with food and exotic locations and sun and sand and fun and pools and relaxing...while pastors who need sermons and bulletins and prayers and communion liturgies and communion servers and liturgists and brunches/dinners for four different Holy Week services, who need youth group plans, who have senior high fundraisers to prepare, who live in places where it was warm for a day or two before turning gray and cold are watching....it's evil.

Just sayin'.

spring

so it was warm and now it's cold again, but the grass is already green. How is that possible, that the grass is already green? Isn't it supposed to be brown and nasty still? I guess not.
It's really pretty.

Outside my house there is a couple...a very bright red bird couple. They are adorable--one sits in a leafless tree, above the bright green lawn, and sings and sings until the other comes, then they chase each other around from tree to tree, just winging their way through the air like there's nothing else to do in the world.

My cats love it.

(from inside the screen door, of course!)

I am random

• Had an off day in worship today--accidentally talked to myself during the prayers of the people...which I was leading!
• Those prayers of the people were my sole responsibility at church today. Spring Break = no Sunday School, no Youth Group, no Confirmation...and someone else did the Children's Time. Just prayers. Which I could not even do with either dignity or grace. Too bad.
• Left church just after noon, like a normal person.
• It was sunny and warm. I suddenly understood the attraction of Sunday Afternoon Drives. I live in a place where you could really do that--roll down the windows and drive through the country, enjoying the sun.
• I didn't drive more than the 4.6 miles to my house. I went home, read, and slept.
• I had a root beer float today. I just really felt like I needed one today--so perfect for the weather. It was literally perfect--a root beer float on my balcony in the sun.
• I have cooked three meals in a row for myself. That's impressive for someone who didn't have any food in her house for more than two weeks.
• Yesterday I heard an NPR story in which a congressman said that we need to pursue victory, not peace, in Iraq. Oh dear. the many things I want to say about that will not fit on the internet.
• Yesterday I was at a Youth Specialties CORE training event. It was about helping hurting kids. The photos of the arms of kids who cut were heartbreaking. I am so grateful that no kids in my youth group are cutting. They have issues, sure, but they aren't relieving their pain by cutting up their arms and legs and hands. I don't think I came away with a really good action plan or anything for when these things come up in my ministry, but I did come away with a little more understanding. And, the best part about going to YS stuff, I came away with a bunch of books. When you attend an event, you get 20% off their resources, pay no shipping, and have instant gratification. It's pretty excellent.
• Friday I had a real day off--it was awesome. I slept in, I read and napped the day away, I drove into the city and went to Taize at Fourth, I had a Mint Bliss sundae at Ghirardelli. Mint chocolate chip ice cream with dark chocolate hot fudge. Oh. My. God. It was so good. Then I hung out at Calum and Missy's, reading. They came home, we drank wine and talked until too late...then I slept but not well because I was so paranoid about oversleeping and missing the YS seminar in the morning. LOL--I ended up getting there early.
• I have been reading The Memoirs of Cleopatra--a novel by Margaret George, who also wrote novels about Mary Queen of Scots and Mary Called Magdalene. It's fiction, of course, but extremely engaging fiction! I am really enjoying it.
• I'm also reading Christianity for the Rest of Us. So far, it's pretty much right on.
  
• My cats LOVE when I have the sliding glass doors open and they can chase things by climbing the screens. I too find this hilarious.
• Is it any wonder I rambled in the prayers of the people today? So many things are swirling in my brain!!
  

"he died for our sins"

That was the common refrain at the Confirmation retreat while we talked about what made Jesus important.
This was very funny (and a little annoying) to me.
Why, you ask?
well, because the Bible Study unit we're working on is about Jesus' LIFE and TEACHING!

I finally told my group: Jesus died for 6 hours. He lived for 33 years. He was resurrected and has been hanging out "at the right hand of the Father" for about 1980 years (ish). And the only thing you can talk about is that he died for your sins? Which sins are you even thinking of?

It's great that the confirmands have a really good sense of forgiveness--I love that they feel forgiven and loved and covered by grace. What we're working on is seeing that Jesus LIVED for us and ROSE for us, not just died. (come on, Romans 8, come on!! You can help us!)

The group planning our worship at the retreat (which included communion) decided they wanted to do a baptism/footwashing-like forgiveness ceremony. During the silent prayer of confession, everyone used a red dry-erase marker to write a sin (or a reminder of a sin or other thing they feel guilty about) on the palm of their hand. We then passed around a bowl of water and each person washed the hand of the person next to them, saying the words "you are forgiven." (the text was Matthew 18.21-22, about forgiving someone 77 times, and also the forgive-and-you-will-be-forgiven thing.) At the end we said the "usual" declaration of forgiveness, ending with "know that you are forgiven and be at peace"--and then passed the peace. We sang Jesus Loves Me, then had communion together. It was actually a really beautiful 20-minute worship experience. I am really proud of each group planning devotions/worship and that we set aside 10-20 minutes three times during a 24 hour retreat. The youth seemed to really enjoy it too. I've had lots of positive feedback from parents already. Impressive since I just sent really tired kids home 13 hours before the Sunday thing started!

Other memorable moments...let's see....being asked if rock-climbing would be okay during their nature walks. when the response was no, being asked if "stone climbing" would be okay instead. ha! ....finding out that one of the youth stole the pinto beans of another youth (we were playing a game with them) in order to win....watching eighth graders get to know each other better....watching two people dive for the last cookie, both screeching as only teenage girls can as they grabbed for it (the cookies were REALLY good!)....having one of the moms drop the bag containing 2 dozen eggs (to be used to make breakfast) as we were packing the cars to leave....me, wishing that I had stuck to my original plan to have a two-night retreat.

and now, worn out from that and worship with Amazing Grace (twice) and youth Sunday planning and a baby shower and some time missing my mom really a lot, I must sleep. I was trying to stay awake until 9.30. My computer clock says 9.34. It's time for bed.

ta!

less is more?

So I have not been writing much on here. This makes me sad, but is not unusual. Over the past five years my blogging habits have gone through ebbs and flows, like any other thing humans do.

One of the things a youth I met with today said really struck me as true, though. She said that she only writes poetry and songs when she's really happy or really sad. If she's in a normal (or vaguely blah) feeling place, she has trouble writing.

I wonder if I'm not writing as much because I'm feeling generally vague, tired, or something like that? I'm not having the extreme emotional ups and downs I've had in the past couple of years. I'm actually running on a fairly even keel, except for one particular frustration that I can't write about here. It's a new place, and kind of nice, actually. But it means I have to come up with something worthwhile in order to write. Because less is more, right? Or at least, if it's going to be less (volume/frequency) then there should be more (quality).

I am mildly ashamed to say that I abandoned my Lenten Discipline after only 7 days. I just haven't been able to keep that up while I've been sick AND working 50 + hour weeks. It seems that I may be feeling more emotionally balanced but my time is now out-of-whack! ACK! (hehe, rhyme.)

So that's my post for the day, along with this observation:

Every morning I eat my breakfast cereal on the couch, looking out the glass doors of my living room to the lawn. Now the snow has melted and I can see the lawn, which is nice. The last few days, my cats have been looking out the window instead of trying to get into my cereal bowl, because the birds have been hanging out on my balcony. this morning I watched some little birds play and sing while my cats stalked them mercilessly from behind the glass. It was a lovely sunny morning with my favorite cereal.

surprise!

Jason is here!
His birthday is tomorrow, and his surprise birthday present (worked out by me, his mom, his brother, and the pastor of his church) was/is a trip here to visit me and to have a birthday experience at the art institute's current special exhibit on Tuesday. yay! I am very excited, happy that it seems to have been a real surprise, and glad to see him. He is glad to be here, I think! He could hardly believe that I was able to pull off a surprise like this. I'm not always a good secret keeper, and I nearly told him everything several times, and nearly slipped up about fifty other times!

So anyway, happy birthday Jason! I hope you like your Birthday Surprise. :-) much love!

caramel sauce

Have you ever noticed that if you heat up caramel ice cream topping, it smells like cotton candy? Now, I know that's because both caramel and cotton candy are nothing more than sugar with a little added sugar. But the cotton candy smell is so wonderful, you know? I just love it. It makes me feel like the ice cream I'm about to enjoy is at the minor league baseball stadium where I spent so many of my high-school summers. Not because I play baseball (So Far From It...just ask my fam), but because for all the summers I was in high school, and then some, we housed players who came to play for the Bears. (I chose Wikipedia on purpose over the official site, because wikipedia lists some notable former Bears, among them Peter Bergeron, who lived at my house, and Paul Konerko, who lived with a friend and currently plays for the White Sox, not so far from where I live...)

Now that I've gotten thoroughly off topic, what I really wanted to say was this: I love caramel ice cream topping. It makes me want to lick my bowl. Unfortunately, Andrew (feline, silver colored, approx. age 10 months) got to it first. but my house still has some cotton-candy smell lingering from the heated caramel sauce.

thinking

I'm thinking about a lot of things.
But I'm not sure I can write about them here.
Suffice it to say: my mind is in overdrive, I have no answers, and I might be getting myself in trouble with the "battles" I choose.

In other news: exciting and big things are happening next week! yay!

busy

too busy?

I realized today that in the five days I work I often work 51 or more hours. (51 is generally the minimum for a week.)

I realized yesterday that I have no evenings at home now--Sunday through Thursday I am at church at least until 8, more often 9 or even later. Last night I left at 9.45. Granted, I am teaching a short-term evening class and after Easter I'll have one evening free, but still. Do you know what it means to someone who loves to cook to have no evenings free?

I'm pretty sure that's not good.

I haven't had time to blog lately.

Next week I have some big stuff going on and probably won't have time to blog then either.

Is it bad if my Lenten discipline gets done a few days at a time instead of every day? (answer: yes. I know this. I'm working on it. But I need to get caught up, too...)

In other news, it's still cold outside. Very cold. I am really excited about next week. The big things of next week are pleasant things, I think. I'm also excited about the young women's preaching conference, about my Africa class, and about hearing Richard preach on Isaiah 55 this Sunday. I think Isaiah 55 is the best chapter in the entire Bible. If I could only read one chapter of the Bible ever again, I would choose that one. Girl scout cookies are in--I got my two boxes of Thin Mints and oh, they are good. We are collecting girl scout cookies to send to soldiers in Iraq. I am too selfish to give mine away. To any soldiers reading this: sorry, but we have loads of other boxes so I hope you get some.

That's all. I am going home soon...just one more person who "MUST" talk to me at the end of choir (in 18 minutes). Good times.

I think my kitties miss me. They have taken to scattering papers all over the house. I leave and the papers are in a stack on a shelf or table. I come home and they are all over the house...not just all over the living room, but all over the house. It's quite impressive, I must say.

The end, for today.

Doing Nothing? A Sermon for Lent 2 C/Celebration of Gifts of Women

Rev. Teri Peterson
Ridgefield-Crystal Lake Presbyterian Church
Doing Nothing?
Psalm 27 (selected), Luke 10.38-42
Lent 2C, Gifts of Women

The Lord is my light and my salvation;
whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life;
of whom shall I be afraid?

One thing I asked of the Lord,
that will I seek after:
to live in the house of the Lord
all the days of my life,
to behold the beauty of the Lord,
and to inquire in his temple.

Hear, O Lord, when I cry aloud,
be gracious to me and answer me!
‘Come,’ my heart says, ‘seek his face!’
Your face, Lord, do I seek.
Do not hide your face from me.

I believe that I shall see the goodness of the Lord
in the land of the living.
Wait for the Lord;
be strong, and let your heart take courage;
wait for the Lord!
~~
Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, ‘Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.’ But the Lord answered her, ‘Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.’
~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’ve probably heard the phrase “behind every good man is a great woman.” The idea is, of course, that the man is the one out front, achieving and earning and being, while the woman is behind the scenes making sure everything is ready all the time: dinner’s cooked, house is clean, shirts are pressed, kids are fed. In the old-time-traditional church, this may have looked like the pastor being free to be holy while his wife and the women’s group made sure there were potlucks, that casseroles were taken to the sick, that the communion was set up, that the fellowship hall linens were pressed, that the windows were washed, that the sign was updated, that the newsletter was full of interesting tidbits, that the nursery was staffed and the Sunday school taught, and that everything ran smoothly.

Nowadays, of course, these things are not just women’s work—they’re the work of anyone who happens to be around to do them. And, of course, being the pastor isn’t just a man’s job anymore. In fact, last year the Presbyterian Church celebrated the 50th anniversary of the ordination of women to the ministry of Word and Sacrament. And this year is the 98th year of the International Women’s Day, a day when people around the world both work for and celebrate women’s rights and gifts.

But in all this, whether men or women are doing the work in front of or behind the scenes, there’s a common denominator.

Doing.

There is a lot of stuff to get done, after all. Windows need to be washed, bookshelves need to be built, classes need to be taught, lunches need to be cooked. Plus our culture has some expectations—chief among them that we don’t waste time. When we could be doing something and we’re not, we are wasting a precious commodity. When we’re awake, there’s work to be done. Otherwise, we’re lazy. There is an abundance of things to do—our lives are full to the brim with doing.

Martha’s life was full too. When people came to town, she knew what she had to do. She invited them in, and then she set about the abundance of tasks required of a good hostess—offering them drinks, washing their feet, cooking dinner, cleaning up, setting the table, and making them comfortable. Martha’s time was full to overflowing with things to do, while her slacker sister Mary just sat at Jesus’ feet, looking up adoringly, soaking up his teaching. Mary was wasting time while Martha was working hard, and that did not sit well with Martha.

But when Martha’s question came out, we could all hear the bitterness and the burnout. She’d been working so hard, all this time, and Mary was just lazy. Why couldn’t she be more helpful? Why did she insist on sitting there, doing nothing?

Martha, Martha. It turns out that one of them is indeed wasting time, but it’s not Mary. Martha is distracted by many things—she’s spending her time for things that are not valuable, she’s full to the brim and cannot hear what she’s being called to do, she cannot receive the teaching and grace and abundance of the Lord because she has filled herself with distractions.

Mary, on the other hand, has apparently made the better choice—to sit at the feet of Jesus and listen to him. It looks like doing nothing, but it’s actually doing the thing that matters most. She, like the psalmist, seeks only one thing:
to live in the house of the Lord
all the days of my life,
to behold the beauty of the Lord,
and to inquire in his temple.
Mary has set aside the false abundance, the work that always expands to fill the available time, the cultural expectations, and has chosen to take some Sabbath time, to be with the Lord, to learn, to seek, to receive.

I’m sure you’ve all heard of the object lesson in which a teacher takes a jar and puts rocks in, and asks if the jar is full. The students say yes. Then the teacher puts small pebbles in, and asks if the jar is full. The students say yes. Then the teacher pours sand in and asks if the jar is full. The students say yes. Then the teacher asks them whether, if he had put the sand in first, there would have been room for the big rocks? Of course not. The teacher then says that the rocks are the important things in life: God, relationships, yourself, and the sand is the busywork of life. The point has to do with not filling your life up with the inconsequential things first—the sand—because there won’t be room for the big important things—the rocks. It’s easy to fill up with the sand or the pebbles, squeezing out the rocks. That’s what Martha has done, and what Mary is trying not to do.

Perhaps Mary realized that only if she put the big things in first could she do the small things with grace and love. We can’t serve and serve and serve, give and give and give, work and work and work, without first being filled up. We just can’t sustain that much doing if we don’t take time to allow ourselves to be fed, to allow ourselves to be filled. If we try, we end up letting our bitterness and burnout escape in questions like Martha’s. No, first we have to let go of our false abundance, our jars filled with sand, and allow ourselves to be filled with God’s abundance, with grace and peace and love and mercy. Only when we sit with Jesus, and listen to him, and allow him to fill us with grace and peace, can we then go about our serving. Otherwise, we are filling ourselves with distraction rather than true service.

The trouble with letting go of the false abundance and allowing true abundance to come in is that it makes us look lazy or greedy, or sometimes both. But while prayer, worship, education, and meditation may look like doing nothing, they’re exactly the opposite. They are the things that feed us, that give us strength, the big rocks in our jars that ensure we have energy for the pebbles and the sand. The true abundance that comes only from God is worth clearing the sand for, worth sitting down for, worth leaving the dishes for! The psalmist says to wait for the Lord, to take courage—for we will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living—we will taste and see that God is good, here and now.

One symbol of the abundance that God has for us can be found at this table. Here there is a joyful feast, here there is enough to go around, here all can be fed. This is a meal where you are offered as much as you want—Jesus offers abundant life right here at this table, and all are welcome. I love serving communion, and I especially love serving children. They always come up and take the biggest piece they can—even as many of you parents are telling them to take “just a little piece.” I love the idea that children know what this feast is about, they know that they are entitled to participate in the feasting. I think we tend to lose that as grown-ups—we take just a little piece as though that’s all we’re worthy of, or in case there isn’t enough. But this is the Lord’s table: there’s always enough. This is a time when we set aside those cultural understandings of scarcity and abundance, when we leave our false abundance behind, and we come to experience God’s abundance. Take a big piece! This is a feast—and someone else has prepared it and someone else is the host. All we do is sit at the feet of Jesus and enjoy the meal, and go out strengthened to serve with glad and joyful hearts.

Thanks be to God.
amen.

Lent Day 7

(my Lenten discipline this year is to write a short devotion, without extra editing or excessive thought, on the coming Sunday's lectionary texts for each of the 40 days. Later I might go through and edit/rewrite, but for now these are first thoughts.)


Wednesday

Philippians 3.17-4.1
Brothers and sisters, join in imitating me, and observe those who live according to the example you have in us. For many live as enemies of the cross of Christ; I have often told you of them, and now I tell you even with tears. Their end is destruction, their god is the belly; and their glory is in their shame; their minds are set on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven, and it is from there that we are expecting a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. He will transform the body of our humiliation that it may be confirmed to the body of his glory, by the power that also enables him to make all things subject to himself. Therefore, my brothers and sisters, whom I love and long for, my joy and crown, stand firm in the Lord in this way, my beloved.

Citizenship in heaven. Sounds pretty great, right? It must be better than earthly citizenship. My American citizenship comes with a lot of rights and privileges—voting, driving, purchasing power…and extensive travel privileges as well. Imagine what heavenly citizenship must entail!
Glory, transformation, power…but it seems that Paul has in mind here not privileges but responsibilities. Apparently, citizenship in heaven means living according to the example set by Paul and his other communities. It means living differently, setting our minds not on earthly things, not allowing our bellies to be our gods.

It doesn’t sound like the problems of the church have changed much in the past dozen centuries or so…the culture still proclaims the belly as god (or money, or power…), still encourages us to look away from heaven at all the earthly goodies and the prestige we can find right here. And Paul still sits here and encourages us to look somewhere else—to the cross. Yes, we live on earth but our citizenship, along with our rights, privileges, and responsibilities, are elsewhere. So we live differently, following the Way of the Lord, standing firm.

Paul doesn’t say here what that Way is, but from his other writing we can infer that we shouldn’t be indulging our appetites unhealthily, we shouldn’t be placing stumbling blocks to the faith of others, we should help out other people, contribute to the needs of the saints, and we should be praying continually. Right after this Paul exhorts his listeners to rejoice in the Lord always. That sounds pretty different from the way the world works. Heavenly citizenship can be hard work!

Gracious God, we sometimes get so caught up in our everyday earthly lives that we forget where our real citizenship lies. Make us mindful of the rights and privileges we enjoy with our earthly citizenship, and make us mindful also of the responsibilities that come with the citizenship in your kingdom. Strengthen and encourage us to follow you, to stand firm, and to serve your people. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.

stuff

first Africa class: good.
Amy's at my house: excellent.
Today is Jason's and my 3rd anniversary: lovely.
sermon for this weekend: doesn't exist yet.
coughing: still with me.
plan for how to get everything done in time to take off Thursday afternoon and not come back until Sunday: ummm....the beauty of the plan is that there is no plan.

that's all for now.

Lent Day 6

Tuesday

Psalm 27 (selected verses)
The Lord is my light and my salvation;
whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life;
of whom shall I be afraid?

One thing I asked of the Lord,
that will I seek after:
to live in the house of the Lord
all the days of my life,
to behold the beauty of the Lord,
and to inquire in his temple.

Hear, O Lord, when I cry aloud,
be gracious to me and answer me!
‘Come,’ my heart says, ‘seek his face!’
Your face, Lord, do I seek.
Do not hide your face from me.

I believe that I shall see the goodness of the Lord
in the land of the living.
Wait for the Lord;
be strong, and let your heart take courage;
wait for the Lord!

This psalm is so beautiful I’m not sure I can even say anything about it that is worthwhile. And yes, it’s one of my texts for preaching this Sunday!

I am particularly fond of the first and last paragraphs of the psalm: the idea that the Lord is light and there is nothing that can trouble me or inspire fear because of that, and the idea that God’s goodness can be seen even here on earth…both are so wonderful. Pop Christianity often has this idea that we can only see God after we die, that the whole point of living the Christian life is to be rewarded after death…but that’s not how I believe at all. I really believe that God can be seen in the land of the living—not just in creation, but in other people and maybe even in me…and I also think God does reveal Godself in different ways, including here and now.

Seeking God often looks like wasting time—to do one thing single-mindedly, to seek God’s face, to look forward to seeing God in God’s own house—but it isn’t. It does take waiting, which is not easy. Waiting requires strength and courage, seeking requires diligence, but the reward is to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Even during Lent. Isn’t that what these holy seasons are about? We clear the clutter, we leave the busy-ness, and we seek God’s face through prayer and fasting, through worship and study, through rest and renewal. God said “when you search for me, you will find me; if you seek me with all your heart, I will let you find me” (Jer. 29.13). It’s a worthy pursuit…but it requires waiting. I hate waiting, and so I am one of those who needs extra strength and courage! In our instant gratification culture, waiting is unpopular. But God doesn’t work on our culture’s time—as Abraham learned yesterday. And so we wait.

God, I hate waiting. Give me the courage and strength to wait for you, to seek you diligently. Reveal yourself to me here in this time, and fill me to overflowing with your light and love that I might share it with the world. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.

Lent Day 5

Monday
Genesis 15.1-6
After these things the word of the LORD came to Abram in a vision, “Do not be afraid, Abram, I am your shield; your reward shall be very great.” But Abram said, “O Lord God, what will you give me, for I continue childless, and the heir of my house is Eliezer of Damascus?” And Abram said, “You have given me no offspring, and so a slave born in my house is to be my heir.” But the word of the LORD came to him, “This man shall not be your heir; no one but your very own issue shall be your heir.” He brought him outside and said, “Look toward heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them.” Then he said to him, “So shall your descendents be.” And he believed the LORD, and the LORD reckoned it to him as righteousness.

Abram is beginning to get a little anxious here…the promises God made sounded so great when he was leaving his homeland and his family and all he knew. But now things are a little sketchier. There are no children yet—and children are the crucial part of this whole plan. What kind of reward is it if there are no children to pass it on to, no family name to continue, no one to receive the inheritance?

Abram sees his life as one marked, at the moment anyway, by scarcity. And he complains against God out of that mindset—“you have given me nothing important” he says. But God has a different view. God sends Abram outside to look at the sky, filled with an abundance of stars. This is what will mark Abram’s life—abundance. And somehow, that is enough for Abram. Just a look at the abundance God has already created and provided in the heavens, let alone on the earth, and Abram believes that his descendents really will be innumerable. Quite a change from a few sentences before, when Abram sounded decidedly doubtful, and maybe even a little whiney!

Eventually, we all know, Abram manages to have two children, and beyond that his offspring really are innumerable…but there were moments of doubt. Even Abram operated out of a mindset of scarcity and doubt sometimes. Even Abram, the exalted ancestor, the one held up as a model for our faith, questioned God. And believed the answer. And that is a right relationship.

O God, you give abundantly. Your creation, your history, your people, are full of your abundant life. We pray that you would hear our questions, take our doubts and even our whining, and turn them into faith. Help us to be in right relationship with you. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.

Lent Day 4

(my Lenten discipline this year is to write a short devotion, without extra editing or excessive thought, on the coming Sunday's lectionary texts for each of the 40 days. Later I might go through and edit/rewrite, but for now these are first thoughts.)

Saturday

Luke 4.1-4
Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over, he was famished. The devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread.” Jesus answered him, “It is written, ‘One does not live by bread alone.’”

Other versions of this story say that Jesus was driven into the wilderness by the Spirit, or led into the wilderness by the Spirit, but Luke says that Jesus was led in the wilderness by the Spirit. There’s something wonderful about that—being in the wilderness, seeking God, being tempted, being intentional about discerning what God is calling you to do, filling your days with prayer and fasting…and being led by the Spirit the whole time.

I’m a Presbyterian pastor. When I lived in Scotland, anytime we used the phrase “led by the Spirit” what we meant was “we didn’t have time to plan this out the way we Presbyterians really like to do, so we’re going to be led by the Spirit instead.” I’m pretty sure that isn’t quite what Jesus was doing. Though I doubt he planned to spend forty days fasting in the desert and hanging out with Satan making snide remarks about stones and bread, he probably wasn’t using “led by the Spirit” as a euphemism for “flying by the seat of my pants.” I suspect that he was actually being led, discerning, praying, and resting in God. Isn’t that what Lent is about? This wilderness time—whether we gave something up, took something on, or are doing our best to ignore the season—is a time when we stop pretending we have control over every little bit of our lives, and instead intentionally seek God’s spirit, letting her blow where she will, following where she leads.

Come, Holy Spirit, and lead me where you would have me go. In this season, we are trying to be open to your movement. Blow among us and through us and in us, and show us a new path. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.

Lent Day 3

(my Lenten discipline this year is to write a short devotion, without extra editing or excessive thought, on the coming Sunday's lectionary texts for each of the 40 days. Later I might go through and edit/rewrite, but for now these are first thoughts.)

Friday
Psalm 91—a metrical setting
Whoever lives beside the Lord,
sheltering in the Almighty’s shade,
shall say, “my God, in you I trust,
my safety, my defender.”
From unseen danger and disease
God will keep you safe and sure;
beneath God’s wings a place you’ll find,
a refuge from all danger.
You will not dread what darkness brings—
hidden danger, deadly plague;
nor will you fear in daylight hours,
the evil that surrounds.
A thousand may die at your side,
thousands more fall close at hand;
but with God’s truth for strength and shield,
no threat will ever touch you.
God says, “I’ll save from every harm
those who know and love my name.
In trouble I will honor them,
and show them my salvation.”

The metrical setting of Psalm 91, to the old Scottish folk tune Teann a nall, is so beautiful that every time I hear or read the first verses of the psalm, I can’t help but sing the tune. And what a beautiful image, too: sheltering in the Almighty’s shade, a place beneath God’s wings.

The thing is, the psalm, read uncritically, seems to be a big fat lie. Sure, you can rest in the shadow of the Lord, but the reality is that disease, danger, and threats do touch us, even those among us whose faith is so sure and sound that it can’t be shaken, even those whose lives seem perfect, even those who really ground themselves in the Word…danger and disease are part of the human reality.

But Psalm 91 assures us that these things are not the end of the world, that danger and disease do not have the last word. Not even death has the last word, really: God does. Trouble may come, but God will still be around. “in trouble I will honor them and show them my salvation.” What good news tucked in this beautiful Scottish psalm tune.

Almighty God, clothe us with your truth, cover us with your wings, shelter us in your shade, keep us safe and close to you throughout this season. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.

Friday Five: Companions on the Way

From the RevGals:
Dante had Virgil as a guide. Before he had younger siblings, my oldest child had an imaginary friend named Patrick. Betsy had Tacy. Laura Ingalls depended on her brindle bulldog, Jack. All of them were companions on the way.

As we take the beginning steps of our journey through Lent, who would we take as a companion? Name five people, real or imaginary, you might like to have with you as guide or guardian or simply good friend.

let's see, in no particular order:
~Jason (not just in Lent, either!)

~Jane Austen (cuz who wouldn't want to talk like her?)

~Isaiah (he knows how to write...and what to say to get people on the straight-and-narrow...and how to eloquently point out when they're not! Plus, what a cool prophet, I mean, really...too bad I'd have to explain Lent to him.)

~someone who can really cook....Rachael Ray, maybe? Or Giada diwhatever who makes yummy italian desserts?

~mom (no explanation needed)

blah

I am sick, and have spent two days at home now--as can plainly be seen by the excessive blogging of yesterday.

Being home sick when you live alone is incredibly boring and kind of awful. It's much better to be sick when someone is around to take care of you--to bring you more water, find the chapstick your cat stole, locate your kleenex box, cover you with more blankets, make tea, bring you lunch, etc. Home alone sick is lame. I have to keep getting up because I didn't get every little thing I might need set up next to me. Andrew keeps stealing my chapstick and taking it God-knows-where. My kitties are adorable and all, and I love them sleeping with me, but the chapstick stealing (and the sneezing) has got to stop.

I need more water now, so I must go get up yet again.
I hope your Friday is better...and I hope I get well before tomorrow because I have a lock-in that will be kind of high-energy. oh boy.

Since you won't find me here much tonight (sleeping and whatnot is taking over), check this out. They're having a worse day than me. Prayers for that family and for the sanity of the zoo workers...

almost

Today while I was home sick, watching the Food Network, I saw an ad that really caught my attention.

there's a shot of a homeless man apparently sleeping on a sidewalk.
"this is Jack Thomas. Today someone almost brought him something to eat. Someone else almost drove him to a shelter. Someone else almost brought him a warm blanket. And Jack almost made it through the night."

Then it flashes "don't almost give: give."

There are five other ads like this one, most of which end with "almost giving is the same as not giving at all." These are such interesting ads--I hope that they really do turn America into a Generous Nation. We have such need alongside such wealth, it's quite disgusting. We often think we can't do anything about it, but this ad shows that's not true. We may not be able to quickly change the systemic problems, but we can help individuals with a sandwich or a blanket.

almost...

what kind of soul am I?

I am feeling like this is scarily accurate...

You Are a Warrior Soul

You're a strong person and sometimes seen as intimidating. You don't give up. You're committed and brave. Truly adventuresome, you are not afraid of going to battle. Extremely protective of loved ones, you root for the underdog. You are picky about details and rigorous in your methods. You also value honesty and fairness a great deal. You can be outspoken, intimidating, headstrong, and demanding. You're a hardliner who demands the best from themselves and others. Souls you are most compatible with: Old Soul and Peacemaker Soul

What Kind of Soul Are You?

Lent Day 2

(my Lenten discipline this year is to write a short devotion, without extra editing or excessive thought, on the coming Sunday's lectionary texts for each of the 40 days. Later I might go through and edit/rewrite, but for now these are first thoughts.)

Day 2

Deuteronomy 26.5b-9

“A wandering Aramean was my ancestor; he went down into Egypt and lived there as an alien, few in number, and there he became a great nation, mighty and populous. When the Egyptians treated us harshly and afflicted us, by imposing hard labor on us, we cried to the LORD, the God of our ancestors; the LORD heard our voice and saw our affliction, our toil, and our oppression. The LORD brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, with a terrifying display of power, and with signs and wonders; and he brought us into this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey.”

Humans are naturally storytellers—if you don’t believe me, head to any school and listen in the hallways or the cafeteria while the kids talk between classes. Everyone has a story to tell. We also have some communal stories—stories about our family, our country, or the world, stories that we connect to in some way even if it isn’t something that happened to us. This is the kind of storytelling that lets us say “those are my people” even if you’ve never met them or never been to their part of the country/world.

This is one of those stories that we tell because it reminds us who we are. Once upon a time, we were a mighty nation. Once upon a time, we were slaves. We were rescued and brought to this incredible place. This is our family story.

This story also tells us whose we are. Once upon a time, God made a covenant with our ancestors. Once upon a time, we called upon the LORD and were heard. God brought us out of slavery with signs and wonders, with a mighty hand, with terrifying power. God gave us this land. We belong to God, we are the people of God, we are the people God rescued and brought home.

And that’s what storytelling is really about, isn’t it? Coming home? Stories help us to live, to re-live, to inhabit our space and time. Telling the story brings us home again, brings us closer to one another and to the God who gave us the story and who continues to write the story with us.

Story-making God, today we affirm with the ancient Israelites that a wandering Aramean was our ancestor, that once we were mighty, once we were slaves, and many times we have been rescued by your mighty works and terrifying power. We pray today that you would be with us as we tell the stories of our life and faith in this season of Lent, that we might come ever closer to our home in you. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.

sad

Today an Egyptian blogger was sentenced to 4 years in prison because he expressed his views on his blog. He was charged with, basically, insulting Islam and insulting President Mubarak. His main target tended to be al-Azhar university, longest continuously operating university in the world and bastion of Sunni Islamic learning and culture.

There's mixed reaction in Egypt, of course, with some people saying he shouldn't have said those things and others outraged, saying that freedom of speech is clearly missing in Egypt (duh). For a "democracy" or a country that supposedly abides by things like the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, Egypt still has a long way to go.

You can read the story on the BBC here. There is a "free Kareem" campaign going on, with the web HQ here. It's a particularly interesting campaign because it is being run by Muslims who disagree with the things Kareem said but are trying to educate people that free speech includes speech you disagree with. You can also scope out another well-known Egyptian blogger, SandMonkey...until he gets arrested too, I suppose.

This kind of thing makes me sad and angry. I hope that Egypt can get its act together, and that we will stop supporting their non-democracy, before the whole Middle East really does implode (or explode).

I think I'm glad not to be in Egypt right now...but I'm sad that some of my friends are there and can't talk about things that are important to them. Pray for the people of Egypt.

Gifts of Women

March 4th is "celebrate the gifts of women" Sunday on the Presbyterian calendar. I am preaching that day, we're having communion, and there's a baptism at one service. The theme for Lent is "abundance" (as in, God's abundance, abundant life, etc, not as in prosperity).
The lectionary texts do not lend themselves to weaving these two themes together, so I am going to choose a new text about a woman.

The question is, which woman? I'm actively soliciting suggestions. We do the bulletins on Tuesday morning, so I need an idea before then. Help!

Ashes to ashes

I expected yesterday to be more emotionally taxing.
Perhaps my strange illness (the flu? a cold? something else?) has dulled my response time, but I didn't find Ash Wednesday to be as emotionally draining as I expected.

I've put ashes on people before, so that wasn't new.
But not last year (cuz in Egypt that's just not done by protestants). Which means that the last ashes I touched were my mother's. And that was an emotionally taxing experience.

But yesterday afternoon I was reminded, as I mixed my ashes and oil, that palm ashes and people ashes are not the same. Palm ashes are dark and fine. people ashes are light and grainy. It hadn't occurred to me until yesterday that different things make different ashes. I think that might be part of the reason it was easier than I expected, the pressing my thumb into the ashes and marking people's foreheads.

Also, instead of saying "remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return" we said "you are dust and ashes, and for you the world was created," based on a Hasidic tradition which Richard talked about in his extraordinarily brief meditation. (I appreciated the brevity, since I was sick and my fever was coming on at this point!)

I like this--it nicely holds up the paradox of life. As my therapist put it: "you're worthless, and you are incredibly valuable."

Last night I read the book Penguins, Pain, and the Whole Shebang. While the theology differs from mine on several points, I really enjoyed the first chapter, in which God tells the archangel Michael all about the new "human being" creation, who will inhabit "that new planet I made...the blue and green one." God tells Michael (Mickey) that this new planet was made just for these human beings, who are the crowning achievement of God. It's a great conversation. and it fit really well with the ashing words of last night. And then the emotionally drained tears came, but they were short lived, and I went on with the business of trying to sleep while having a fever.

Today my cough and I have stayed home reading, writing, sleeping, and petting the kitties. There's lentil soup being made for dinner. Hopefully by Saturday I'll be all better, since there's a confirmation class lock in then!

Ash Wednesday

Ash Wednesday
Joel 2.12-13
Yet even now, says the LORD, return to me with all your heart,
with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning;
rend your hearts and not your clothing.
Return to the LORD, your God, for he is gracious and merciful,
slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and relents from punishing.

This is an odd day. It’s not often in our culture that we come face-to-face with our own mortality, and it’s even less often that we choose to think about the fact that one day, in the not-so-distant future, we will once again be nothing but the dust from which we were made. To put ashes on the forehead of someone else is a powerful thing—to look into someone’s eyes and tell them they are only dust, blowing in the wind.

Yet I still greet people on this day with “Happy Ash Wednesday!” I get strange looks and confused emails and text messages, but I really think this is a great greeting. Yes, we’ve put away the pancakes. Yes, Lent is often seen as a time of deprivation and denial. Yes, we’re putting ashes on ourselves and confessing our sin and thinking about how we’re going to die. But it’s also the beginning of our yearly 40-day journey, the time when we clear out all the nonsense and the false abundance, the time when we confess so we can move forward. Without this confession, this recognition, we can’t even begin to get back on track, to start the journey home. We can’t return to the Lord with all our hearts if our hearts are full of wrong things. And so we empty them, and ourselves, to make room for the love and grace and mercy that God gives in abundance, so we can be filled to overflowing by God who is gracious and merciful, abounding in steadfast love.

Gracious God, may the ashes on our foreheads be a reminder not only of our mortality and our sin, but also of your incredible love for us. Help us to empty ourselves of false abundance and to return to you with our whole hearts. We pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Shrove Tuesday

yay for pancakes!

I love the tradition of having pancakes on Shrove Tuesday. Every year for the past several years I have had people over to eat pancakes together. Even in Egypt! So great! Tonight I had Richard and the girls, Sherri, and Cecily. We ate pancakes with berries, syrup, whipped cream, and bananas as topping options. We also had scrambled eggs and juice...cuz why not? It was excellent. I love having people over!

Anna and Ella love to play with my kitties, and I think my kitties love to play with them--and now they are both totally exhausted. Both Andrew and Ollie are passed out on things (one on the ottoman and one on the laptop case), sleeping and oblivious to the fact that they are being talked about.

At the end of the evening, Ella (age 2 or 3 ish), when prompted to tell me "thank you for the wonderful pancakes and for having us over" said to me in her adorable but not always understandable little-girl voice, "thank you for the wonderful pancakes and for having us over and for loving us!" aaawwww!

And now Ash Wednesday is upon us. should be interesting....we're of course doing the imposition of ashes. I pointed out to Richard that the last ashes I touched were my mother's, so it will be an interesting day for me. I don't know yet how that's going to go, but we'll see.

I also began learning about drumming today, in preparation for our class on the church in Africa. exciting!

And on that note, that is the end of this random and non-cohesive blog post.

new blogger

I finally sucked it up and switched to a New Blogger template. It's a surprising amount of work to move links and whatnot. However, changing the color seems simpler now--no need to go in and change all the code for every line. So that's nice and all...
BUT
I was using Haloscan for comments (since I started blogging before Blogger had comments). I think I'd like to use blogger comments, but maybe I should go ahead and insert the Haloscan code. We'll see. The thing about switching, of course, is that we can't see the old comments now. Perhaps I'll add them back this weekend, perhaps not....we'll see.

anyway, yeah...New Blogger, here I am. You'd better be easier than the html I learned for my old template....

Friday Five: Tourist Edition

1. What is one place you make sure to take out-of-town guests when they visit? (you can be vague to preserve your anonymity if you like)
Umm, I usually take people to the Hancock Tower and/or the Art Institute and Millenuium Park.

2. When visiting another city or town, do you try to cram as much in as possible, or take it slow and easy?
I like to see lots, but in a relaxed way. I'm not interested in seeing everything and remembering nothing while being cranky, so I try to see the highlights, some unknowns, and relax the rest of the time. I'm one of those people who walks around cities, apparently aimlessly, just enjoying the place and seeing what I happen upon.

3. When traveling, where are we most likely to find you: strolling through a museum, checking out the local shopping, or _________________?
Museuming, for sure. If it's good. I'm not likely to be found looking at Egyptian stuff outside Egypt (unless I'm in London) for a long time, though.

4. Do you like organized tours and/or carefully planned itineraries, or would you rather strike out and just see what happens?
umm, as per #2, I'm a strike-out-and-see-what-happens type, with the occasional tour tossed in. Town trolley tours are fun cuz you can see the neighborhoods before you go walk around. And places you can't see without a tour, I'm all for the tour! (The Scavi tour in the Vatican is the most memorable of these for me...)

5. After an extended trip, what do you find yourself craving most about home?
my own bed, my kitties, and access to all the things my house has (food, clothes, fuzzy socks, etc...)

"Shiny"--a sermon for t-fig

edited Friday 11.30a CST (or is it daylight time now?)

Rev. Teri Peterson
Ridgefield-Crystal Lake Presbyterian Church
Shiny
Exodus 34.29-35, Luke 9.28-36
Transfiguration C

Moses came down from Mount Sinai. As he came down from the mountain with the two tablets of the covenant in his hand, Moses did not know that the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God. When Aaron and all the Israelites saw Moses, the skin of his face was shining, and they were afraid to come near him. But Moses called to them; and Aaron and all the leaders of the congregation returned to him, and Moses spoke with them. Afterwards all the Israelites came near, and he gave them in commandment all that the Lord had spoken with him on Mount Sinai. When Moses had finished speaking with them, he put a veil on his face; but whenever Moses went in before the Lord to speak with him, he would take the veil off, until he came out; and when he came out, and told the Israelites what he had been commanded, the Israelites would see the face of Moses, that the skin of his face was shining; and Moses would put the veil on his face again, until he went in to speak with him.
~~
Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, ‘Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah’—not knowing what he said. While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, ‘This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!’ When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is exactly the kind of thing many people claim they want. It’s exactly the kind of thing that many Evangelicals say is absolutely necessary. It’s exactly the kind of thing that many people say doesn’t happen anymore:

Talking with God. I mean, direct, two-way conversation with God, the kind where God does some of the talking.

Nowadays, if you go around saying that God has been talking to you, one of two things is likely to happen. Either people are going to write you off as “one of those Christians” or they are going to make a call to the nearest mental health professional. And if you’re glowing on top of that, they may very well step away and call 911, just in case you’ve been exposed to some kind of radiation or something.

Even when Moses came down the mountain the first time, the Israelites had started a big party because they weren’t sure he was coming back or that he was even talking to God anyway. And this time when he comes down from Mount Sinai, tablets in hand, face shining with the Glory of the Lord, they know he’s for real and they also know that is a very scary thing—so they run away. Only when he shouts for them do they come slowly crawling back to the foot of the mountain. Voices carry a long way in the desert. Light goes quite a ways too, especially when it’s dark, and especially when it’s this kind of light—not a mini mag light, but God’s light, the light that comes from within, the shine that accompanies someone who has been talking with God.

The Israelites aren’t alone in their fear. On the mount of the Transfiguration, probably Mount Hermon, in the Golan Heights, Jesus and his disciples are praying. Well, Jesus is anyway. The disciples are sleepy, but they’re holding their eyelids open. While Jesus is praying—talking to God, as it were—he too takes on this light, he begins to reflect God’s glory. And the disciples are afraid! They don’t know what to do, what to say, or what’s going on. It’s all they can do not to make fools of themselves in front of Elijah and Moses…except Peter, of course, who does manage nicely to say just the wrong thing. And then, of course, they get included in the conversation that Jesus, Moses, Elijah, and God have been having: God booms from the cloud “this is my Son…pay attention!”

Now, since Moses’ face shone because he had been talking with God, and since Jesus was transfigured into shininess while he was praying, I have to wonder whether the disciples, too, were shining just a bit after God had been talking to them. After all, they’ve just seen the true divinity of Jesus, they’ve been basking in the glow of glory, AND God’s voice spoke to THEM! There must be some residual glow. But even if they were shining, I wonder if they noticed? Or if they thought they could just head back to normal life, saying nothing, and have everything go on as usual?

These incidents both happened on mountaintops, away from normal life, away from the busyness and the needs of the world. People have been climbing mountains to talk to God for ages—pretty much since there were people. High Places, places of sacrifice and worship, dot the Middle East. Some even have remains of the altars, statues, or poles used for worship. Throughout Scripture people go to the mountain to encounter God—Abraham, Moses, Elijah, prophets, Jesus, the John who wrote Revelation. The holy places tend to be high places—the Temple was on a hill, the Mount of Olives is nearby. Elijah defeated the prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel. The sign for Moses and the Israelites after the Exodus was that they would worship God “on this holy mountain”, thought by many to be Mount Sinai. Jesus delivered the sermon on the mount on a hill overlooking the sea of Galilee. There is an abundance of holy places on high ground. It seems that people have been meeting God, and God has been meeting people, on mountains pretty frequently!

I know a lot of people who say they find it easier to meet God, easier to talk to God, out in nature. There’s no better place to pray than hiking on a mountain, they say, because it brings you closer to the sky—God’s own cathedral. It puts you in touch with the creation. It’s quiet and many think you can hear God better “out there.” And it’s true that going away to a quiet place, to a mountaintop, to worship and to pray is a biblical thing to do. It’s also true that going to a worshipping community and its sanctuary is a biblical thing to do. It’s also true that going to feed the hungry is a biblical thing to do. God talks in all these places—the question is where we expect to find God, and where we can best listen.

In the Celtic tradition, as many of you have been learning, some places are “thin”—the boundaries between earth and heaven, between sacred and secular, are thinner, fuzzier, more porous in some places. Many of these thin places are on high places. And at many of them, especially in Scotland, pilgrims have been building cairns for centuries. A cairn is basically a pile of rocks. The rocks carry the prayers and identities of the people who place them. Nearly every thin place has one—something to mark the spot, to bring it even closer to heaven, to preserve the moment. But unlike Peter’s suggestion of dwellings, the stones stay and the people go.

The thing about encountering God, of course, is that God doesn’t live on a mountaintop. We can have mountaintop experiences in church, on a bus, in school, with friends, while praying at home, or even out on the plain—a good thing since we live in the prairie, not the mountains! What matters is that we encounter the living God, and once that has happened, we can never be the same.

What goes up must come down, even on the mountain, even in the church, even at home. In the thin place, on the mountain, we encounter God. Then we go down the mountain again to everyday life, but we are different. We carry with us the glow that comes from talking to God. Like Moses, we’re shiny. And we have a choice to make: to hide our light, as Moses did, so we don’t scare people (or so we don’t inconvenience ourselves), to stay silent as the disciples did, or to share our light with the world.

Some people will say they aren’t good enough, that their light isn’t strong enough. Some will say that it’s too difficult or too risky to share the light. Others will say they don’t want to brag. But Jesus told us that even though it would be difficult, we’re to let our lights shine—a lamp belongs on the lampstand, not under a basket. Light is for sharing, not for hoarding. And the light that comes from an encounter with the living God is long-lasting and genuine, not boastful or fearful.

One of my favorite quotes is often attributed to Nelson Mandela but is actually from Marianne Williamson. She says, "Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, ‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?’ Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same." (1)

When we encounter God, our inner lights are renewed, and we go out as mirrors of God’s grace and glory, bearers of God’s presence—to let our lights shine on the world. The light shines in the darkness and the darkness cannot overcome it.

Thanks be to God.
Amen.


(1) by Marianne Williamson from A Return To Love: Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles.

procrastinating

it's writing day. I'm working on my t-fig sermon. and for some reason I cannot stop obsessively checking my email...every few minutes. It's like "oh, I wrote two sentences...must be time to check my email." I can't stop. I might have to unplug my internet cable just to get anything done. I really want to have the sermon done by 5.

It's 3.10.

And I'm blogging, checking my email, praying for a way out....or an inspiration.

prayer on the mountaintop

for Transfiguration...

PRAYER ON THE MOUNTAINTOP

You always seem to speak on mountains—
make this place a mountaintop today.
On mountains your glory shines—
make this place a mountaintop today.
On mountains we can hear your word—
make this place a mountaintop today.
On mountains you show yourself to your people—
make this place a mountaintop today.
On mountains your presence is easy to see—
make this place, and every place, a mountaintop
and make us the mirrors of your glory,
the speakers of your word,
the bearers of your presence.
Amen.

hair

Am I really asking so much?

All I want is a good hair day on a Sunday.

Is that so much to ask?

Am I having good hair today? yes. Friday, when it was my day off? yes. Sunday? no.

I have yet to have a good hair day on a Sunday in this church. What is that all about?

please??? Especially when the video people are actually taping?

cold

it looks like the forecast that gave me hope--the one that said it would get up to freezing this week!--was wrong.

Now for Thursday (the day they thought it would get up to 32) we're looking at a range between 0 and 10 for the day. sad.

On the bright side, it was above 0 this morning when I woke up, so I went to the gym. I feel better already.

But it's snowing, so the brightness comes from blinding white snow...

days off

I love being organized enough that I can actually take days off.

This week I managed to be organized (and disciplined!) enough to not only take both yesterday and most of today off, but also to go home at a decent hour every night that I didn't have a meeting! That's awesome. I feel pretty good about my time management this week. Oh, if only I can do it again....

what might be helping: going to church 30-45 minutes earlier than usual because I skipped going to the gym this week. I'm morally opposed to going to the gym if it's below zero degrees when I wake up and want to go. Therefore I've not gone for a whole week. It's supposed to be warmer this week--highs getting up to freezing! (I can't believe I'm excited about that, when a year ago "cold" was 50 degrees.)

In other news, Ollie drank a whole bowl of pineapple juice. I can't even believe it. In still other news, Andrew is still sneezing. And he finds the best time for olympic-training to be "anytime it's dark outside."

Today's tasks:
1. children's sermon
2. butterscotch brownies for the bake sale tomorrow
3. read
4. nap
5. watch Food TV
6. make some kind of excellent dinner involving vegetables and probably brown rice.
7. play with kitties.
8. read
9. nap
10. panic about children's sermon, have anxiety dreams, wake up at 2am, 3am, 4am, 5am, 6am until I come up with something.

Sounds like a good day!!

:-)

happy birthday amy!

Today is my friend Amy's birthday. Go wish her happy birthday!

kitty olympics

Here's the olympian-in-training.
What events is he training for, you ask?
Well, let's see:

• attack and flinging of oblong objects (pens, chapstick, remote controls, telephones, etc.)
• retrieval and shredding of kleenex (more points if it's retrieved from its box)
• single-bound-bed-leaping
  
• trash-can-tipping

It's been an exciting couple of nights at my house...

dots

• I came back from Atlanta to discover that the HIGH temperature here, with wind-chill factored in, was -17 degrees. BRRRRR. yesterday it was so cold that school was cancelled. Today it's really cold and snowing too. Who even knew it could snow when the high temp for the day is 0?

• I got my car back. It's beautiful. I hadn't realized how comfortable my car is to drive until I spent time driving two different rental cars that were decidedly UNcomfortable to drive.

• My computer was doing weird stuff yesterday. But today it seems better (knock on wood).

• my to-do list for this week is going excellently!

• It is so cold outside that cars don't start. My car starts, at least so far, but wow. Also, I have had to close all the blinds/shades/curtains in my house in an effort to keep some heat in. My 25 year old furnace has trouble keeping up with the -30 windchill thing. My cats do not like this because they can't see out without, you know, climbing through the blinds. But they were cold before, so too bad. Ollie was acting like she was going into hibernation or something.

• I cannot even believe it's only 3:00 in the afternoon. I think today might be the longest.day.ever.

• Did I already tell you that I watched Jesus Camp a couple of weeks ago, and it was a really well done film, and one of the scariest movies I've seen in a long time? Tonight's movie menu: Little Miss Sunshine. Don't tell me about it! I haven't seen it yet!!

• I am collecting copies of the Northwest Herald article about me. If you read this and you also get the Herald, please bring me the article! I need to send some to my fam. Thanks!

• Richard went out and bought us all space heaters yesterday. God bless him. it's a beautiful thing. For the first time since coming back from Atlanta my toes are not freezing.
  

• Sherri (the church musician) and I are getting ready to teach a class during Lent: The church in Africa. The class is called "Uyai Mose" (Come All You People). It's going to be cool. If you have stories about the church in Africa, your experiences of a church in Africa, or resources for stories/personal experience, please email me ASAP! And if you're here in town: come to our class, it's going to be awesome!
  

emergent mainline

This seminar is pretty good...I'm enjyoing myself, meeting people, hanging out with old classmates, and enjoying being "out of town."

but here's the thing I'm missing: a center of God in Jesus.
We're all about our experience, we're all about ways of organizing (or not), ways of proclaiming, ways of whatever...but without the explicit center, what does that mean? Are we a community gathered around Jesus, or a community gathered around our postmodern experience of ourselves?

I think we assume the center, but it's not being said, and that worries me.

What excites me? Imagining our story together in a different way, re-writing our narrative, plugging into the greater story in a way that is renewing and whole-making rather than destructive. We can hope, people.

postmodern

in a conversation in which I've said "I'm postmodern"--the response:
"well, yes and no."

do you get more postmodern than that?