Getting ready!

I'm getting ready to be gone for a week...a week spent mostly at the Young Clergy Women conference. This year it's in Atlanta, which will be H-O-T but also has some serious advantages...the restaurants, for one. And the friends with whom I can stay for a couple post-conference reading/writing days for another.

So, how does one get ready for a week spent with other women clergy under 35?

Well, first one buys enough of Jaci's cookies to last the week. (sorry, I only bought one for each day for myself--that's all I can pack--so the rest of you will have to drool over her menu in awe.)

One gets both a pedicure and a haircut, of course.

Then one prints out one's boarding pass, and uses the online time to check facebook and twitter.

Then one makes sure to eat as much of whatever's in the fridge as possible. (in this case, I'm leaving a bunch of polenta and some spinach, but hoping for the best. Maybe I'll take the spinach to share the bounty...)

Then one does laundry, and looks at the dishes that need to be put in the dishwasher (which may require unloading said dishwasher), but instead checks facebook and blogs, all while the Roomba does its thing.

Then one ensures there is enough cat food and litter for the week, and that the catsitter has keys (she does).

Then one buys a new fluff book for the plane and another new book that everyone's been talking about.

Then one talks to one's best friend and conference roommate to determine whether it's possible to share any of the packing (for instance, toothpaste, which for some reason never quite fits into the 3-1-1 thing.).

Then one chooses which clothes to wear, determines the availability of an iron at the conference location, and puts everything into the suitcase.

Then the cat sits in the suitcase as well, registering displeasure at the arrival of this black box on the bedroom floor. He/She may also be signaling approval or disapproval of clothing choices, but it's hard to tell when they're sitting on them.

then one takes a break from all this hard work (ha!) to check facebook and write a blog.

Then one pets kitties and contemplates the dishes again...but instead goes to stare at the suitcase and attempts to discern what is being forgotten.

Then one checks the weather to determine that it will in fact be very hot and humid and will likely thunderstorm every afternoon.

Then one facebook chats with a bunch of people, to pass the time even though it's beginning to get late.

Then, at last, one tackles the dishes, finishes the laundry, and closes the suitcase until the last-minute things (the 3-1-1 bag, for instance) need to be added in the morning.

And then there's sleeping.

And upon waking, there's going to the conference to be with fabulous other young women!!

storm

There have been a lot of storms lately--physical ones, I mean. I feel almost like I live in the South again, what with the daily thunderstorms. There have been tornadoes, lightning and thunder, hail, power outages, and crazy wind.

This past Friday night we had two huge and powerful thunderstorms come through. The radar was RED, the trees outside were bent almost to 45 degrees, and the lightning and thunder continued for hours. There were reports of tornado sirens (but no tornadoes) and of hail the size of a quarter.

Also over the weekend I was contemplating 1 Kings 19, where Elijah experiences a storm (wind, earthquake, fire), followed by silence. He's also experiencing a political/religious storm, of course. Not to mention his internal storm!

Three years ago I preached on this text and opened with "it was a dark and stormy night, both inside and outside Elijah." Then this year, when it was actually a dark and stormy night outside, I decided I couldn't reuse the line...too bad. (The Glee illustration worked just as well!)

The internal storms are harder to talk about--this is the stuff of novels and TV dramas. We all have them, and each person's storm is different. I think I pretty well covered that in the sermon below this post (not that I was intentionally identifying with Elijah...it just sort of happened!) I think the interesting part is that the silence, the calm, comes after the storm, not before. Usually we talk about "the calm before the storm" and mean that eerie silence when birds stop singing and there's not even a hint of breeze...the calm that means something bad is coming. But this calm after the storm is...well, hopefully is not just the calm before the next storm! It's somehow qualitatively different. It feels different, more...calm, I suppose, less anxious/filled-with-foreboding.

Sometimes the summer is the calm (both before and after the storm!) season for pastors, especially those of us who work primarily with programs. Programs tend to break in the summer, at least a little bit. It's a time to both take a breath and to look ahead, to plan. At this moment in our congregation's life, and in my life as the Associate Pastor of a congregation that is without a head of staff, we're doing more breathing and less planning...hoping to be in that lull that means that the worst is over and something good is coming.

Elijah left the mountain after the storm and found himself in a partnership with someone new. I'm hoping the same will be true for us--it's so much easier to face the next storm with a colleague by your side.

(send some good vibes our way, would you? we've been waiting for the Spirit for a long time on this one, so if we could just remind her that we're still waiting....LOL!)

energizers

When I woke up this morning, I had a mashup of Ants Marching (DMB), Istanbul (they might be giants), and Run Runaway (Great Big Sea) going on in my head.

How on earth did you guess that this morning I am up ridiculously early to teach some of our youth to lead energizers?

That's right, it's VBS and our VBS is in need of some...energizing. :-) We're in Africa for VBS--there are large african animals everywhere, there are Baobab trees all around the church building, and there are some suspiciously african looking (and sounding!) drums going on down the hall.

So this morning we'll have...completely NOT African-themed energizers. Because I don't have time (or energy, ha!) to make up a new one, so we'll be doing some classics.

So, my Presby-geek friends and fellow youth leaders, fear not! Another generation of energizer-crazed youth is on their way!





(I wonder if I can get a nap after the kids go off to their rotations??? LOL!)

(PS--wondering which of those energizers I'll choose this morning? Answer: none of the above. I think we're going with "Revolution" because it's so repetitive....)

retreat--a sermon for Ordinary 12C

Rev. Teri Peterson
RCLPC
retreat
1 Kings 19.1-15a
20 June 2010, Ordinary 12C

King Ahab told Queen Jezebel all that Elijah had done, and how he had killed all the prophets with the sword. Then Jezebel sent a messenger to Elijah, saying, ‘So may the gods do to me, and more also, if I do not make your life like the life of one of them by this time tomorrow.’ Then he was afraid; he got up and fled for his life, and came to Beer-sheba, which belongs to Judah; he left his servant there.
But he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a solitary broom tree. He asked that he might die: ‘It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my ancestors.’ Then he lay down under the broom tree and fell asleep. Suddenly an angel touched him and said to him, ‘Get up and eat.’ He looked, and there at his head was a cake baked on hot stones, and a jar of water. He ate and drank, and lay down again. The angel of the Lord came a second time, touched him, and said, ‘Get up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you.’ He got up, and ate and drank; then he went in the strength of that food for forty days and forty nights to Horeb the mount of God. At that place he came to a cave, and spent the night there.
Then the word of the Lord came to him, saying, ‘What are you doing here, Elijah?’ He answered, ‘I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away.’
He said, ‘Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.’ Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. Then there came a voice to him that said, ‘What are you doing here, Elijah?’ He answered, ‘I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of hosts; for the Israelites have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking my life, to take it away.’ Then the Lord said to him, ‘Go, return on your way to the wilderness of Damascus…’


I don’t know if any of you have been watching the TV show “Glee” over the past few months—I definitely have. It’s about a high school show choir called New Directions. A few weeks ago, there was an episode in which the opposing choir showed off how good they are—great choreography, great costumes, great music. And then, to top it off, one of the New Directions stars defected to that opposing choir, breaking up with his glee club star girlfriend in the process. It sent the whole choir into a spiral of depression—though they won the last contest, they believe they can’t win the upcoming regional competition, and so they begin to give up. They…well, metaphorically anyway…curl up under a tree in the desert and go to sleep, hoping never to wake up.

Elijah seems to also be in a funk, as the choir director put it. He won the big contest—proved that the Lord is God AND eliminated the false prophets all in one fell swoop. But now there’s an even bigger contest coming, and the opposition is fierce and powerful. So rather than let an evil queen kill him, he runs away—hundreds of miles away—and then lays down and asks to die.

I suspect many of us have been here—maybe not literally asking to die, but so tired, so worn out, so deep in the darkness that it’s all we can do to eat the bread the angels bring before we go back to sleep. We may not be battling the prophets of Baal or running for our lives from one of the most notorious evil queens of history, but a lot of the time we are battling something, or running from something. And sometimes, the cost of discipleship seems too high. To keep facing the competition, to keep following God’s call, to keep picking up the cross every day, to keep widening the circle of grace while others seem always to be closing it. Sometimes the world is just too overwhelming, the need to great, the problem too big, and our resources too small.

And so we run.

And we leave behind the people who help us, and we run some more.

Then, at last, we rest. Where no one can see, we just let it go. The façade comes down, the cheery face gets put away, and we just … rest. No expectations, no one needing us, no one waiting for our opinion or direction or help.

Sometimes we get to this place because our bodies refuse to go any farther—we get sick, or our body breaks, and we’re forced to be still.
Sometimes we get to this place because our minds can no longer keep up—something snaps and we just have to stop.
Sometimes we get to this place because people around us are willing to pick up the slack so we can take a little time off before “burnout” becomes literal.

However we get here, though, it’s not the end of the journey. It’s tempting to stay here on vacation from life, but this is just the beginning, the first water station, the restaurant where we carbo load before the big race. Food and water weren’t what Elijah really needed—they were a means to an end.

When Elijah got to the mountain—the mountain where God spoke to Moses, where God made the Israelites a community, where Elijah could literally stand on the promises of God—he rested again. But physical rest wasn’t the point in this place. Soon there came The Word of God: “What are you doing here, Elijah?”

Here, far from home yet close to his foundation. Here, a place of refuge and hope. Here, our rock and our fortress. What are you doing here?

Elijah’s answer rivals even show choir for its melodrama. “I’ve been working so hard, and no one even cares, and I’m ALL ALONE.”

I suspect most of us have been here too.

Then something happens—this vacation turns into Sabbath, into a retreat. It’s not just a trip, not just a time to rest, not just a chance to sight-see in the Sinai. It’s time for Elijah’s spirit to be renewed by a meeting with the living God.

All the usual acts of God come first—raging wind, shaking earth, crackling flames. We’ve seen all of these before—burning bushes and pillars of fire, earthquakes that free apostles in prison, Pentecost wind. But this time is different.

This time, these signs come and go…to be followed by the only lasting sign: silence.

You know how sometimes silence can be deafening? This is a quiet we rarely hear in our electronic-filled world. This is the kind of quiet where all you can hear is your heartbeat—even your thoughts seem fuzzy in the din of silence. The kind of quiet only God can give us—maybe even the kind that we can only find inside ourselves, regardless of the noise outside.

It doesn’t say how long the silence lasted, but I like to think it was long enough for Elijah to meet himself—to hear his thoughts, his feelings, his heart. Long enough to look deep and see the image of God inside.

Into that silence comes the Word again—living, breathing, whispering. And this time, when Elijah tells God that he feels alone and overworked, it’s not the same melodramatic whining of the first conversation. This time, it feels like a confession. Into the silence, Elijah whispers, “I thought I had to do it all myself. I thought I had to have it all figured out. I thought you had left me alone.”

In that confession, God is moving in and through Elijah. Elijah’s own spirit has met the One who can feed him, who brings the peace that passes our understanding, who will never EVER leave him alone.

This is what Sabbath is for—to encounter the living God and find our spirits renewed. In the process we too can whisper into the silence our own belief that we have it all figured out, or that we should have it all figured out. We can admit that we don’t know, and there might even be more than one right answer, and we’re never going to be able to do more than follow where we are called. In other words, we can confess our own idolatry of ourselves. We can look deep and see the image of God—the image we want to reflect into the world—is so much better than the image we’ve been reflecting…and then we can clear away the stuff that gets in the way.

Only then can we hear the call again: Go, return on your way.

Just as the nap under the tree wasn’t the destination, the mountain isn’t the destination either. Yes, we need both the rest and the retreat. We need to have our bodies and spirits nourished and renewed. But that’s a means to an end—to get back on the way. And this time, we’ll walk the road of life and discipleship knowing that the Spirit of God goes within us, whispering encouragement and direction—and that’s all we need to know for now.

Thanks be to God.
Amen.

no contest--a sermon for June 13 2010

Rev. Teri Peterson
RCLPC
no contest
1 Kings 18.20-40
13 June 2010, Ordinary 11C (ordinary 9C text)

King Ahab sent to all the Israelites, and assembled the prophets at Mount Carmel. Elijah then came near to all the people, and said, ‘How long will you go limping with two different opinions? If the Lord is God, follow him; but if Baal, then follow him.’ The people did not answer him a word. Then Elijah said to the people, ‘I, even I only, am left a prophet of the Lord; but Baal’s prophets number four hundred and fifty. Let two bulls be given to us; let them choose one bull for themselves, cut it in pieces, and lay it on the wood, but put no fire to it; I will prepare the other bull and lay it on the wood, but put no fire to it. Then you call on the name of your god and I will call on the name of the Lord; the god who answers by fire is indeed God.’ All the people answered, ‘Well spoken!’ Then Elijah said to the prophets of Baal, ‘Choose for yourselves one bull and prepare it first, for you are many; then call on the name of your god, but put no fire to it.’ So they took the bull that was given them, prepared it, and called on the name of Baal from morning until noon, crying, ‘O Baal, answer us!’ But there was no voice, and no answer. They limped about the altar that they had made. At noon Elijah mocked them, saying, ‘Cry aloud! Surely he is a god; either he is meditating, or he has wandered away, or he is on a journey, or perhaps he is asleep and must be awakened.’ Then they cried aloud and, as was their custom, they cut themselves with swords and lances until the blood gushed out over them. As midday passed, they raved on until the time of the offering of the oblation, but there was no voice, no answer, and no response.
Then Elijah said to all the people, ‘Come closer to me’; and all the people came closer to him. First he repaired the altar of the Lord that had been thrown down; Elijah took twelve stones, according to the number of the tribes of the sons of Jacob, to whom the word of the Lord came, saying, ‘Israel shall be your name’; with the stones he built an altar in the name of the Lord. Then he made a trench around the altar, large enough to contain two measures of seed. Next he put the wood in order, cut the bull in pieces, and laid it on the wood. He said, ‘Fill four jars with water and pour it on the burnt-offering and on the wood.’ Then he said, ‘Do it a second time’; and they did it a second time. Again he said, ‘Do it a third time’; and they did it a third time, so that the water ran all round the altar, and filled the trench also with water.
At the time of the offering of the oblation, the prophet Elijah came near and said, ‘O Lord, God of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, let it be known this day that you are God in Israel, that I am your servant, and that I have done all these things at your bidding. Answer me, O Lord, answer me, so that this people may know that you, O Lord, are God, and that you have turned their hearts back.’ Then the fire of the Lord fell and consumed the burnt-offering, the wood, the stones, and the dust, and even licked up the water that was in the trench. When all the people saw it, they fell on their faces and said, ‘The Lord indeed is God; the Lord indeed is God.’ Elijah said to them, ‘Seize the prophets of Baal; do not let one of them escape.’ Then they seized them; and Elijah brought them down to the Wadi Kishon, and killed them there.




We human beings seem to love a good competition—we saw one over the past couple of weeks as we’ve cheered and sighed at our TVs, shouting at the little black puck or the people skating around the rink, and finally looking almost with disbelief as we figured out that we’d won the game with a bizarre shot in overtime. We love to be on teams—whether it’s Team Jacob or Team Edward, or the Blackhawks or Team USA. We also love to root for our team, and we especially love to celebrate when the right…umm, I mean the best…team wins.

So of course, when Elijah sets up a showdown between Team God and Team Baal, the whole country turns out for the big game. There’s a drought going on, so there’s nothing else to do—no crops are growing, the economy’s limping, and excitement is rare.

Elijah gives Team Baal every advantage—they get to pick their bull, they get to go first, build their own altar, pray their own prayers, and wait for their sacrifice to go up in flames. They pray, they dance, they cut themselves, they wail and cry and shout, for hours and hours. When nothing happens, Elijah gives them a further advantage—he pours 12 jars of precious, valuable water onto his own Team God altar and sacrifice. You can practically see the people panting with thirst as jar after jar of water pours onto the dead bull and dry ground.

Then the big moment—the sudden death overtime, if you will. Elijah talks to God for a mere two sentences, and the whole thing, water and all, is on fire.

In the end, it was no contest, really. Because only God is God—Baal is nothing but an idol, a figment of imagination, a figurine carved by human hands.

The thing is, the Israelites knew that…or at least, they should have known that. They’ve experienced the power of God, the liberation, the promises fulfilled…and yet. There’s something seductive about these other gods, the ones we can make for ourselves, the ones we can control, the ones our neighbors or our leaders or even our enemies might suggest. These other gods…they can’t be all bad, right? Maybe we can just slip in a little prayer here and there, a little statue in the corner, a quick trip to the new altar…no one will notice, and we’ll just cover all our bases. There’s nothing wrong with hedging our bets just a little, right?

Except for that pesky first commandment—the one that says “I am the Lord your God, and you shall have no other gods before me.” Seems pretty straightforward. And Elijah’s contest illustrates the point—there’s no other god, just things we set up as gods for ourselves. It seems simple and harmless and even easy at first, more like resignation to the inevitable than an active choice…but these idols often turn out to be extremely demanding—did you notice that part of the ritual of the false prophets was to cut themselves and let their blood flow out as a form of prayer? In other places we hear that some of the idols the Israelites have turned to require child sacrifice. We may think this sounds extreme, but our idols often require us to sacrifice our bodies, our families, our time, our conscience, our ideals, or our planet. Is that different?

No one likes to hear the word Idolatry, but we all do it. We’re all guilty of putting our trust in something that is not God—whether it’s money, a job, a relationship (or even our families), a leader, security, a company, an activity, or even a beloved tradition. And I suspect most of us know what our individual idols are. But did you notice, in the beginning of the story, the problem is that the whole nation is waffling between two paths and following neither? Elijah doesn’t address individuals, he doesn’t call us one by one to the altar—he calls the whole community and says, “How long will you go limping with two different opinions? If the Lord is God, follow him; but if Baal, then follow him.” The Israelites don’t answer this question—they stand silent, apparently unwilling to let go of either option.

So I wonder, in our community, what our idol is? What is the thing we set up in the place of God, the thing that we use to hedge our bets, to do our work for us, to make us feel like we’re doing church the right way, or that we can’t let go of?

I have some ideas, and I suspect you do too, and I also doubt we want to hear them. I think we probably have some traditions that have become idols—that get in the way of our hearing God calling us to do new things, that we hold on to because it’s always been done and so must somehow be sacred. I think we have some physical spaces that have become idols—it’s easy to find ourselves, even subconsciously, worshipping a piece of wood rather than the living God. I think we have a vision of leadership that is easy to idolize—if we just had the right leader, we could sit back and relax and the church would grow itself and we’d all be amazing Christians because we listen to his sermons. We forget that none of these are what it means to be church and none of these are perfect expressions of God.

God calls us to follow the living Word out into the world, to do the impossible, to love unconditionally, and yet to ascribe worth to One only. This is the One who loves, whose very nature is grace, and who wants us to live into a vision of peace. There’s no coercion, no force, no violence that can convince us to lay aside our idols. Those are the methods of impermanent things—things that ultimately add up to zero. Instead we have a simple contest—no contest at all, really—between a God who keeps promises and an idol who demands everything but delivers nothing. Where will our faith lead us?

One of my favorite pages in our confirmation curriculum offers several definitions of faith. The page says at the top “Faith is…” and then offers some ideas—faith is belief, faith is trust, faith is commitment, faith is seeing as God sees. Most of the time we seem to think faith is about believing the right things—thinking properly, being orthodox. But the Israelites didn’t have a problem believing in God—they had all the right information at hand. They lacked some other aspects of faith, though—trust and commitment, especially. God wants us to trust only in the power of God’s love, and to be committed to following Jesus in the world. God wants us to open our eyes and see through God’s lenses a world filled with God’s promise. And so we hear the voice of the prophet, echoing through the pages of Scripture and right into this community—lay aside the idols. Come, follow the One and only, whose grace is enough for all.

Amen.

Scoop

I must confess that my very first thoughts on hearing or seeing the word "scoop" all involve ice cream. I love ice cream in ways that can't really be described in words. If I thought I could work out every other available minute, I would eat ice cream for lunch and/or dinner probably every day.

My favorites, of course, depend on the season.

Early summer calls for root beer floats, filled with much more than just one scoop of ice cream.
late summer/early fall is when I turn to the mackinac island fudge ice cream with caramel and hot fudge topping, no whipped cream and no nuts, extra cherries.
the instant it's "holiday" enough time for the grocery stores, I scoop up peppermint candy ice cream, which I think may be my favorite but is only available in November and December. (OMG yum)
midwinter is when Girl Scout Thin Mint Cookie Ice Cream becomes available (briefly)...also yum.
spring makes me want sorbet. Maybe because there hasn't been anything resembling fruit (or any kind of real fresh food) in my part of the country for so long by that point that the acidic fruity nature of sorbet is something my palate craves.

And, of course, the Turtle Blitz from the Freeze is lovely and wonderful anytime the Freeze is open (May-October). They use pecans that are both salty and slightly glazed...maybe they add salt to the caramel as they're glazing? I don't know, but OMG it's so good.

When it was available, I also loved the Breyers Overload "Fried Ice Cream"...with a little warm caramel sauce added, it tasted JUST.LIKE. fried ice cream from my favorite mexican restaurant back in Yak. (I don't think they're making this anymore--I looked for it the other day to no avail.)

If I'm looking for a grocery-store available ice cream that won't tempt me to eat the entire half gallon tonight, I like to pick up Ben and Jerry's "Everything But The..." It has heath bar pieces in it, which are so ridiculously good in ice cream it's a little embarrassing. (the lack of half-gallon temptation is due to the size Ben and Jerry's comes in...I have accidentally eaten the entire pint before....)

When I was little, during the time I lived at my grandparents' house, I remember eating ice cream with my grandpa many nights. His favorite is rocky road, I think--chocolate ice cream with marshmallows and I think chocolate covered peanuts? That's not my favorite, but it's certainly pretty to look at! We would get our bowls of ice cream and, if we had a special night, we might get out a bag of pretzels and use the pretzels as spoons. Salty-sweet, creamy-crunchy, cold-roomtemp...it was so so good, and such a wonderful memory to have. So wonderful, in fact, that tonight I might just eat some ice cream with pretzels....

What is it about ice cream that makes it the first thing to pop to mind on seeing "scoop"--right before thinking about singers who scoop their notes and before thinking about gossip/news?
I have no idea.

I do know that it's one of those things that makes my mouth happy, and it must release some kind of endorphins because ice cream just feels so...relaxing, luxurious, soothing. I eat ice cream even when it's cold outside and everyone else is saying "you seriously want to eat ice cream TODAY? really? it's too cold for ice cream."

It's never too cold for ice cream.

up for a challenge

Okay, so I need something...something to do over the summer...something that will exercise my brain and my writing and maybe even my imagination...

And then I read both Robin's summer project and this article which makes me a little sad but also gave me an idea.

I think it would be fun to write blog posts (so shorter than an Oxford entrance essay!) that have to be spun out from just a one-word prompt.

That means I need a bunch of prompts, though...so...what word suggestions do y'all have?

Be The Body--a sermon for Pentecost

Rev. Teri Peterson
RCLPC
Be The Body
Acts 2.1-8, 11b-21, 37-47
23 May 2010, Pentecost and Confirmation

When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.
Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. Amazed and astonished, they asked, ‘Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? In our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.’ All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, ‘What does this mean?’ But others sneered and said, ‘They are filled with new wine.’
But Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them: ‘Men of Judea and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say. Indeed, these are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only nine o’clock in the morning. No, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel: 

“In the last days it will be, God declares,

that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh,

and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,

and your young men shall see visions,

and your old men shall dream dreams. 

Even upon my slaves, both men and women,

in those days I will pour out my Spirit;

and they shall prophesy. 

And I will show portents in the heaven above

and signs on the earth below,

blood, and fire, and smoky mist. 

The sun shall be turned to darkness

and the moon to blood,

before the coming of the Lord’s great and glorious day. 

Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.”

Now when they heard this, they were cut to the heart and said to Peter and to the other apostles, ‘Brothers, what should we do?’ Peter said to them, ‘Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ so that your sins may be forgiven; and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. For the promise is for you, for your children, and for all who are far away, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to him.’ And he testified with many other arguments and exhorted them, saying, ‘Save yourselves from this corrupt generation.’ So those who welcomed his message were baptized, and that day about three thousand persons were added. They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.
Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles. All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.


In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the Spirit of God hovered over the face of the deep.
God’s Spirit of wisdom danced before the Creator at the beginning of time, making delight the first emotion this world knew.
The Spirit of God hovered over the waters again at Jesus’ baptism…and again at every baptism celebrated, as we claim God’s grace is for all—as many as the Lord our God shall call.
And now the Spirit dances again, this time in tongues of fire and wisps of wind, inviting us all to dance along—out of the safe spaces, the sanctuaries, and into the streets where people long to hear good news of hope, to see what peace and justice and community look like, to feel God’s breath rushing through the streets and commanding our attention.
On that first Pentecost, the disciples weren’t sure what to do next—they only knew that they needed to stay inside, where it was safe.
On this Pentecost, we seem to think we have everything figured out, and if we just stick to the plan and follow the bulletin, then everything will be safe.
But the Spirit of God has other ideas.
You see, God has called a people to be the Church—to be the Body of Christ, to love and live and serve as Jesus’ hands and feet, to reflect God’s glory, to BE the people of God right here, right now, whether it’s safe or not.
Sometimes we seem to think that the Church is a building—a place where we go.
Sometimes we seem to think that Church is something we do—we show up and say the right words and then we’re done.
Sometimes we seem to think that the Church is an institution that exists serve us—like a vending machine giving us whatever programs, kind words, and comfort we might need…but never offering words of challenge to us, our beliefs, or the way the world works.
Sometimes we think the Church is just another social club or just another non-profit agency—we join the group and give a little money to the cause and forget about it until the next mailing comes.
But none of these things are the Church. The Body of Christ isn’t an institution, isn’t a cause you join, isn’t a vending machine, isn’t a few magic words a week. The Church is US. A living, breathing, ever-changing organism made up of US. And the Body of Christ has a mission—it’s God’s mission, and we have the privilege of participating in it.
That mission is pretty simple, really: Do Justice. Practice Compassion. Walk Humbly With God. Love your neighbor as yourself.
That’s it—love. justice. compassion. humility.
That is what the Spirit blows into our lives to give us, and to call us to do and be.

This morning several of our youth—people who have been nurtured by many of you, who have taught Sunday School, helped with confirmation class, offered encouraging smiles, led youth group, shared conversations at potlucks, served in mission, and prayed for them—these youth will stand before this congregation, this part of the Body of Christ. Together we will remember the promises we made at their and so many other baptisms—promises to nurture and guide, through word and deed. We will remember God’s promise of grace and gift of community. And we will look for little tongues of fire—another kind of baptism, this one a calling to join in this mission God has set forth, to do our best to live into the vision of God’s kingdom.
This calling will take us out of the sanctuary. It will take us out of our safe places, and the wildfire of God’s love will jump the barriers we have set up, and our task will be to fan the flames. The Spirit is moving, dancing, blowing, and calling us to be The Church—the church that offers challenge alongside comfort, the church that serves rather than being served, the church that gives generously and loves generously and lives generously, the church that is the Body of Christ rather than just an institution, the Church that is gathered in order to be sent out.

In Jewish tradition, the festival of Pentecost commemorates God’s giving of the Torah—the law, especially the ten commandments—to Moses on Mount Sinai. The festival isn’t about receiving the Torah—it’s about God giving it—because while the gift happened at a specific point in time, the receiving of that gift takes a lifetime. The gift of the Holy Spirit is the same. On Pentecost God sent the Holy Spirit to the church—a Spirit who had been living and breathing through all of creation and throughout all our stories, but now has a particular role enlivening the Body of Christ. But our receiving of the Spirit and her gifts, our living into that calling, our process of being filled and refilled to overflowing—that takes a lifetime. And that is what the church is for—to be filled with the Holy Spirit so we can let Life Abundant spill out into the world. As new people join this dance, as the gifts within the body grow and change, as the body lives and moves and breathes and works, we continue the lifelong process of receiving God’s Spirit.
The Holy Spirit is at work, even now, even here, calling us to be the Body of Christ. Will we go out and live the good news?
May it be so.
Amen.

(image is this sermon in wordle form: wordle.net)

while I was procrastinating on a sermon...

Acts 2...make your own at wordle.net.

I can't be the first to have thought this...

Have you ever wondered if the church IS the "second coming"?

The Body of Christ, sent out into the world to help usher in the kingdom of God?

Empowered by the Holy Spirit, the very breath of God that animates all things?

So Pentecost is the beginning of this "coming again"...and we're still busy looking into the sky like on Ascension Day rather than seeing Christ all around us?

No way am I the first person to have this thought. I might be the first to say it out loud and not get burned at the stake (so far), but...

It's kind of interesting to think about, don't you think?

(that's all the thoughts I have about it right now, because I don't have time or energy to actually pursue the line of thought to any deeper place until life in our community slows down just a tad...)

it's time for an awesome weekend...

The 30 Hour Famine is underway! No more eating until dinner tomorrow night. We have a busy weekend planned even as we're fasting--we'll be learning about homelessness, working at the Food Pantry, going Cosmic Bowling (no snacks!), clearing out a vacant house and donating what we can to a local non-profit thrift store, and searching for donations for the food pantry. We'll also watch Food Inc and worship and study the Bible and pray...it's a busy weekend!

Once that's over...time to write a sermon. Sunday we have worship at 830 as normal, but at 930 and 11 the youth will lead worship and present selections from Godspell--awesome! Then a fabulous potluck (what am I going to bring???) and the Youth Auction (live! a live auction is a fun new twist on the service auction this year)...and then in the afternoon the confirmation class will meet with the session!

Phew!

See you on the other side.

dear mom...

I love you.

I miss you.

I hope you have a good day wherever you are now.

sun?

We had a gorgeous day yesterday--sunny and breezy and perfect for the ice cream I ate for lunch. :-)

Today started out cloudy and icky, but the sun may be on its way again...

If only the rest of my life were sunny too.

In an effort to shoo clouds out, I hereby proclaim that the following things are NOT OKAY and God should outlaw them immediately (in no particular order):

1. cancer.

2. parent-days (you should take the time to appreciate your mom/dad EVERY DAY, not just the day Hallmark tells you. Trust me, it's worth it--and then maybe I wouldn't get 5000 emails reminding me to love my mom. Too late.)

3. people who cheat on their families.

4. dirty dishes that for some reason don't wash themselves.

5. cat throw up.

6. suicide, whether on purpose or accidental through thrill seeking.

7. natural disasters (flooding, earthquakes, tornadoes, hurricanes, etc)

8. carpet that reveals just how much cat hair is on the floor.

9. insanely busy weeks.

10. children dying of hunger.

11. written statements of faith (especially when used as a litmus test). (the confirmation class this weekend proved that collage, praying in color, and music are much more effective.)

I think that's a pretty good list for God to start with. There may be more lists to come, who knows. Once God gets started on this one we can work on the next one.

Community of Hope--a sermon for Easter 4

Rev. Teri Peterson
RCLPC
Community of Hope
John 10.10b-16, Psalm 23
25 April 2010, Easter 4C, Day of Prayer for Colombia

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures;
he leadeth me beside the still waters;
He restoreth my soul.
He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil; for thou art with me;
thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies;
thou anointest my head with oil;
my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life;
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.


‘I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. The hired hand, who is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away—and the wolf snatches them and scatters them. The hired hand runs away because a hired hand does not care for the sheep. I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father. And I lay down my life for the sheep. I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd.’


Many of you know that I just returned from a week away—and most of that week was spent at a seminar that took place on a cruise ship in the Bahamas. Sometimes the life of a preacher is hard, but someone has to do it! I spent the week with 20 other clergy women, discussing and practicing and receiving hospitality in all kinds of different ways. One day we decided to visit the Lucayan National Park on Grand Bahama Island…but between 7 of us together we couldn’t quite figure out how to get there, until we heard a voice calling us across the road. The voice turned out to belong to a taxi driver named Uncle who agreed to take us the 30 miles to the park, wait with us all day, and bring us home again. Uncle also turned out to be an amazing tour guide, as he drove us out of the tourist area of Grand Bahama and toward the other side of the island. He pointed out Johnny Depp’s vacation home, random neighborhoods, lots more vegetation than we expected, and various other sights along the hour’s drive. Once we were in the park, we could hear his booming voice whenever we rounded a bend in the path and we knew he was still waiting for us. When we returned to the van we could hear his laugh echoing from the small building where he was playing cards with the park ranger. He sat with us and shared a traditional Bahamian lunch of conch fritters, beans and rice, and French fries, and when he figured it was time to head back he called us off the beach. In some ways, he was our shepherd, leading us to the places we wanted to go and showing us a glimpse—just a glimpse—of life on Grand Bahama, which is not all tourist markets and cruise ships and brightly painted shops. He offered us hospitality beyond what we could have expected, and we became a family for the day.

One of the most interesting things to do when traveling is to get out of the tourist area and see where you really are. Many of the places we love to visit—the Bahamas included—sell themselves to us as one thing while hiding something else. We rarely see real life when we take a shore excursion or spend a week in a resort—the real life outside the walls is messy and hard and often marked by poverty, which is not the stuff vacations are made of. But they are the stuff hospitality is made of.

Our call to offer and receive hospitality is not limited to interactions with people who look like us, talk like us, live like us, or even are people we like. If it were, we would be no more than a hired hand, who runs away at the first sign of danger—because that’s what we think, subconsciously, right? That those who are different are dangerous—dangerous to our way of life, to our economy, to our religion, to our political structure, to our worldview. But Jesus says “I have other sheep not of this fold…and I will call them, and there will be one flock, one shepherd.” No running away, no welcome only for the spotless white sheep, no dividing the pasture—one flock, one shepherd.

And our shepherd is the God we know is Love—the one who prepares a table, invites all to come, leads us to green pastures and deep clean water, who provides the nourishment we need and a community to share it with.

Except I wonder what that can mean to people who don’t just walk through, but live in the valley of the shadow of death? How do people read this psalm, so beloved by many of us, when the reality of their life does not involve clean water, or green grass, or a table filled with food? How do the millions of people forced off their land read these words? People whose crops have been killed by aerial spraying meant for coca, or people whose children no longer feast on the fruits of many trees but instead scavenge the trash heaps of Bogota, of Khartoum, of Mexico City, of Cairo? What can “you lead me beside still waters” mean to a community whose stream was polluted by a mining company? How can we even begin to think about, let alone spiritualize, the Good Shepherd when there are so many people not just abandoned by the hired hand but then terrorized by the wolf and the thief?

I know it’s hard to try to read these, some of our favorite passages, from this other context. We are so used to our own context—where we are the people with economic and political power, where we have been culturally conditioned to think about green pastures and still waters and tables prepared in the context of funerals—where we’re supposedly talking about heaven. But we all know Christian faith isn’t truly about what happens after we die, it’s how we live into the kingdom of God here on earth—‘Your kingdom come.’ The last line of the psalm is more often translated, “I will dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long.” Now. Here.

I don’t have any answers to the questions I’ve asked this morning. I don’t know how to think about the promise of green pastures, still waters, feasts, houses, or even one-flock-one-shepherd, in the midst of a world where children are murdered because their parents dare to speak out for peace, where people are driven from their land because of their ethnicity, where greed and violence seem more powerful than love and justice. The best I can do is to hope in that promise, and to do what I can to be a part of its fulfillment. I can leave the cruise ship or the resort and meet people where they are, I can love and accept people for who God made them to be, I can invite people to share their lives and mine, and I can accept invitations to cross the fences we’ve set up to separate the flock.

I read a story this week of a Colombian woman named Daira. When other members of the community council began to be murdered, she slept in a different place every night until the day she realized she had to flee. She says, “My dream was to stay there…in fact, I still dream that someday I will be able to return. I cannot stop dreaming, because if I stop dreaming then everything ends.”

Perhaps this is the word for us here—that we must continue to dream of a better world, to place our hope in the Good Shepherd, because if we stop dreaming, stop hoping, stop working for the kingdom, if despair takes hold, then everything ends. So may we be people of big dreams, people of God’s new community of hope.

Amen.

watch what you pray for

there is a prayer I learned from the Iona Community (I mean while I was living there many years ago):

O Christ the Master Carpenter,

who at the last through wood and nails

accomplished our whole salvation,

wield well your tools in the workshop of your world

that we who come rough hewn to your bench

may here be fashioned to a truer beauty of your hand.

We ask it for your own name's sake. Amen.

Now, setting aside the business where I'm not convinced that it was in fact through wood and nails that our salvation was accomplished (I'm more the empty tomb, less the on-the-cross, salvation kind of girl)...I love this prayer. and it comes to mind often...maybe more than once a day.

But here's the thing: who actually wants to be worked over like a piece of wood in the hands of a carpenter? Cuz while the end result may be a "truer beauty" or more usefulness, the process is, umm, hurty. there's cutting and pounding and lathing (is that even a word?).

So, I'm just saying--be careful what you pray for, cuz you might get it.

thinking

back when he actually worked, Richard used to say that the difficulty with being a pastor and also trying to be a scholar is that ministry in the church doesn't give you any time to think deep thoughts--you just get started thinking about something and then something comes up and you have to move on.

Come to think of it, he might have actually said that as one of the reasons he decided not to work anymore and go back and do the whole school thing (which is its own kind of work, blah blah blah).

Anyway, at the time I believe I thought something like "really? hmm. I need to think about tha....at confirmation class lesson..."

Yeah.

Well, it's official. I believe.

I have not been able to form more than one sentence worth of thought in months. I keep thinking "oh, I'll have to think about that later"...or "blog about that later" or "write that down later" or "look that up later" and then I move on to the voicemail/email/visit/phone/meeting/planning/preaching/whatever. And none of those thoughts ever get thought out, written down, researched, or anything. I have hundreds of half-thoughts swirling in my head and they are driving me insane. And, I think, they are hurting my ability to be a pastor. Because I'm annoyed by all these thought-gnats AND I can't focus on just one of them at a time WHICH MEANS there are all kinds of ideas that never come to fruition because I can't get past one sentence in my head before I have to move on.

I need a month just to think all these things. Then maybe I can get back to work. Maybe.

Since I don't have a month...I'll take a week on a cruise ship in the Bahamas, where you'll find me by the pool thinking with friends, colleagues, matriarchs, and some kind of drink that comes with an umbrella. That must count for four weeks sitting on my couch, right?

(hey, I never said I was an *introverted* thinker like Richard, just that I want to think! Extroverts think out loud!)

Friday Five: on the road

I haven't played the Friday Five, from RevGalBlogPals, in what feels like a hundred years, but this week is about one of my favorite things, so how could I resist???

1. When was your last, or will be your next, out of town travel?

Let's see, my last out-of-town trip was a quickie to Knoxville for my friend Jennifer's gorgeous wedding. I drove the 9:33 hours down on Friday afternoon, and came back Saturday night after the wedding. It was a wonderful trip, but too short.

My next trip will be one week from today!! I head out to Houston for another sure-to-be-lovely wedding, then on to the BE3 aboard Norwegian Sky. I've been dreaming about this trip all Lent, reading every word on the Norwegian Cruise Line website, even if it's not related. I've learned all kinds of not-that-useful things that have allowed me to daydream and fantasize about this cruise. it's how I survived the spring-that-was-winter.

2. Long car trips: love or loathe?

Hmm, it depends on where I'm going and who I'm with. I've made several cross-country car trips, with family, with friends, for moving, and for mission trips. one guess which is my favorite.

3. Do you prefer to be driver or passenger?

It depends. I like to be able to alternate driving so I can do other things (stare out the window, sleep, control the radio) but I also like to drive. So there you go.

4. If passenger, would you rather pass the time with handwork, conversing, reading, listening to music, or ???

I no longer read in the car--that had to stop about 8 years ago (sigh). I like to talk, nap, and control the radio (as previously mentioned). On this last trip I listened to a book on CD for the first time and found that engaging enough to make the long and late-night drives interesting. Normally I like to listen to NPR or NPR podcasts or the Indigo Girls.

5. Are you going, or have you ever gone, on a RevGals BE? Happiest memories of the former, and/or most anticipated pleasures of the latter?

Next week's is my first one! I'm very excited to meet people whose blogs I've been reading for years, to make new friends and catch up with old friends, and to get some sunshine and warm weather. Please, God, let there be sunshine and warm weather. I also look forward to the possibility of sitting down with Nanette and talking a little about her church and how that's happened. And, I have to admit, I also am looking forward to just being somewhere AWAY from here and letting my own self be fed/nurtured by great colleagues and a most-hours-of-the-day-and-night-buffet.

6. Bonus: a favorite piece of road trip music.

Well, when I was in high school my mom used to drive me 2.5 hours across the mountains for clarinet lessons every other week. We always timed our CDs so that the last thing we heard on the way home was the Styx Greatest Hits CD, and we always pulled into our parking spot at home as the last notes of Come Sail Away were fading away. It was our favorite song and it made every trip special, sort of like a ritual. If we didn't time it right, we felt weird. I still love to sing along with my CDs in the car--sometimes Come Sail Away, and sometimes another mutual favorite with my mom, though I didn't discover my own love of the Girls until after she was gone...here it is in original video, in all its 80's glory:

best shape ever!

I, like Amy, am working on getting into the best shape of my life this year. Let's not call it a goal...let's call it being healthy.

Anyway....

I have a Wii Fit (thanks dad!), and I love it, I play it every day except Sunday. On Monday morning, the Wii Fit asks me "so, too busy to work out yesterday, eh?" Well, yes. On Sunday I *am* too busy to work out. LOL. (sorry, that wasn't the point) Now that it's sunny, I can go for walks in the park near my house, too--yay! I've also been more careful about what I eat--I gave up fast food and pop for Lent (and I'm keeping them out until the cruise is over, due to the need-to-fit-in-my-dresses thing!).

So anyway...today I did the monday-morning-body-test on Wii Fit, and discovered...that I've stayed the same. That's right, through last week's partying (Mexican food, margaritas), bad choices (bottled frappuccinos), and Easter (mmm, cadbury eggs--thanks dad!--ice cream, mashed potatoes, the biggest green bean casserole ever, and some wine...), I managed to keep the same weight and a slightly better center of balance. woohoo!

Two weeks to cruise! :-)

Happy Easter!

Today I...

...ate a Cadbury Egg from my easter basket (thanks dad!!!!!) for breakfast.

...also ate pancakes for breakfast, between services.

...made a HUGE mess on the floor of the sanctuary with communion bread crumbs (good thing we don't believe in transubstatiation).

...discovered that in Crystal Lake you can buy alcohol at the grocery store as early as 7am, even on Sunday (when I shopped on Friday I forgot the wine to cook Sunday dinner...)

...sang the Hallelujah Chorus.

...went for a walk in the SUNSHINE! and 72 degrees and saw:

* kids playing hide and seek outside in the trees and bushes around my house

* families flying kites in the park

* kids looking for tadpoles in the pond in the park

* people grilling out!

...made and ate seitan "pot roast" and mashed potatoes and green bean casserole. yum.

...got my beautifully toned upper arms approved for the sleeveless-top wearing by a 22 year old fashion critic.

...petted my kitties.

...watched some episodes of Angel.

...talked to an awesome friend for hours.

Good day.

Crazy Talk--a sermon for Easter 2010

Rev. Teri Peterson
RCLPC
Crazy Talk
Luke 24.1-12
4 April 2010, Easter

But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in, they did not find the body. While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them. The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, ‘Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.’ Then they remembered his words, and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest. Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told this to the apostles. But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. But Peter got up and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves; then he went home, amazed at what had happened.


Close your eyes for a moment and imagine—or maybe remember!—the most outrageous thing a preacher could ever say. The most ridiculous, nonsensical, insane, crazy thing anyone could ever say…do you have something in mind? I read a few this week—for instance that a church in Texas was giving away cars and flat screen TVs as an incentive to come to Easter worship, or that the pope’s preacher compared criticism of the church to anti-semitism, or that the Jonas Brothers were providing musical entertainment for Easter Sunday at Saddleback Church in California. But I’m about to say out loud the single most shocking, ridiculous, crazy, outrageous thing anyone has ever heard, ever:

Why do you look for the living among the dead? Christ has risen.

Isn’t that insane? It’s clearly crazy talk, the ravings of a woman gone mad.

At least, that’s what the men—the disciples and other followers of Jesus—thought when the women came to share the news of the empty tomb, the dazzling messengers, and the message:

He is not here.

In our translation, which has been a little cleaned up for public consumption, it says “these words seemed to them an idle tale.” The word in Greek is lairos—garbage, lies, nonsense, manure…and those are still nicer than the real literal translation would be—imagine a card game sometimes called by two letters of the alphabet and you’ve got it.

The women, faithful followers of Jesus, disciples in their own right, wept the Sabbath away and came early on the first day of the week to perform the rituals of their faith…and found instead an empty tomb and a bright spark for their memory: remember how he told you? And when they did remember, and asked the other disciples to do the same, they were called liars and crazy people.

I don’t think we get this much anymore—resurrection is such a domesticated concept in our religion and culture, part of the story we hear over and over again, so equated with flowers that bloom every spring or butterflies breaking out of cocoons, that we miss how ridiculous it is, how impossible. Jesus was dead—really dead, no breathing, no heartbeat—and the tomb was sealed. And now he is alive, bursting out of the tomb into the world! And somehow we are supposed to believe that this is possible—that dead people don’t stay dead, that the world is changed, that our lives are turned upside down with crazy talk.

That’s right—our whole lives are turned upside down. Because Easter isn’t about intellectual knowledge or even about what we believe in our hearts. And Easter isn’t about our afterlife, living in heaven after we die. Easter is about LIFE—life abundant, lived right here, right now, on earth. Because Jesus is alive, we no longer hoard resources, since the enemy of abundance—death—has been conquered. Because Jesus is alive, we no longer do it on our own, making our own way alone in the world—Christ calls us into community. Because Jesus is alive, we know that this life, this body, this world, matter—enough that God refused to let it die. Because Jesus is alive, we can gather around the table together with all kinds of people and find Christ made known to us in the breaking of bread. The Word of God is living and is among us and within us, turning our lives upside down.

Remember, how he told you, and showed you, and lived among you? Remember how he fed the hungry, healed the sick, opened the eyes of the blind? Remember how he told stories, ate with sinners and outcasts, and stood up to religious and political authorities who oppressed people? Remember how he followed God’s will, lived out God’s love, and taught us to do the same? Remember how he said, again and again, that nothing is impossible with God? These are the signs of life, the saving grace of God, the amazing and yet everyday Immanuel, God with us, made flesh, one of us, sharing our life. Even death cannot stop this kind of power.

In a world filled with despair, violence, hatred, grief, poverty, fear, and greed—in short, a world filled with death—Christ is ALIVE. And so we who join our names and our lives with Christ also live our eternal life starting right now! We, the people who make up the body of Christ, do something that looks ridiculous, that seems insane, that people have every reason to call crazy: we live resurrection. We invite the stranger to our table, we feed the hungry and heal the sick and welcome the outcast, we care for bodies, not just souls, we stand up to oppression and work for freedom, we insist on love and compassion rather than hate and revenge, we speak the word of God into everyday situations, we form God’s new community of hope—no matter what people think of us, no matter what they say about us, no matter who’s watching or listening, we live our life with Christ in the here and now, together.

In fact, I’ll even be the crazy preacher lady who says outrageous things and say that in every decision, every action, every word, we MUST proclaim that life, not death, has the final word; that light is stronger than darkness and love stronger than hate; that even in the midst of the world as we know it, nothing is as it seems, because God’s powerful love is at work in ways we can’t even begin to imagine.

So, friends, (in the words of Wendell Berry) every day do something 

that won't compute. Love the Lord. 

Love the world. Work for nothing. 

Take all that you have and be poor. 

Love someone who does not deserve it.
Practice resurrection.

Christ is risen—he is risen indeed—and may that be so for the body Christ as well!
Amen.