Idolizing the God of Moderation

 Then God said, ‘Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the wild animals of the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth.’

So God created humankind in his image,

in the image of God he created them;

male and female he created them.

Genesis 1: 26-27 NRSV (read in context)

Living closer to nature, we live closer God. By slowing down, we see the subtleties of creation. We see the nonstop transformation of the world. There are deaths and resurrections all around us. Dry creek beds, surging waterfalls, ice storms and debilitating heat all come to an end. The Divine energy  pulses and vibrates throughout it all. (This is also reflected in Ecclesiastes 3:1-8.)

We experience and observe the resurrecting nature of the One I call God in Creation. It is where we can take our rightful place as one creature among many. We are called to practice a dominion over the earth that reflects the image of God (Imago Dei) within us. That god does not control us. The One who loves us with abandon and feels our every emotion creates and transforms with us. Without pausing, God prods us to reflect God's loving creating nature.

Nature is filled with death and resurrections. Photo by Tim Graves

Responding to this call requires empathy. Empathy with the salmon struggling upstream and with our kindred humans fighting for dignity and justice. Without empathy we fail to reflect the Imago Dei.

Yet, we idolize a god who does not feel or transform. We isolate ourselves from the opportunities to empathize and love.

In our modern world of air conditioning we forget that a little sweat is a good thing. Instead of feeling the warm summer blowing on our face, we insulate ourselves. If we feel moisture on our skin with the thermostat set to 78, we sequester ourselves at 72 degrees. We live in a world insulated from the nature of God and one another.

Moderation and comfort are our idols. But without the highs or the lows, the anguish and the exuberance, we do not experience the One who is always creating, the One who dances in joy and weeps in despair with us, the God of the ancient Hebrews who heard cries and responds in mercy. The God who grows through the crack in the asphalt demanding that beauty win, that love win.

What if?

What if following Jesus isn't about the big things? What if it is about the small things we do: kindness, forgiving, smiling and laughing, listening, and even self-care? What if it isn't about professional ministry or earning a living but about a way of life lived in humble service? What if this service lacks vestments and collars or professional titles but is marked by our giving of ourselves emotionally, physically, and spiritually? What if the barely noticed, little things we do out of love are what God calls us toward? 


What if it is in each of these moments we allow God to speak through us? What if this is truly following Jesus, the One who took the very breath of God (1) into himself, and breathed it out into a broken world? What if we can be the very breath of God?


It could change the world.

...and the Spirit of God was moving over the face of the waters. 

Genesis 1:2a RSV

Read this in context.

****

(1) Robert Alter, The Five Books of Moses, Kindle Book edition, loc. 994. Robert Alter translates the Hebrew rua  as breath. It is variously translated as wind, spirit, and breath.

Hospitality & Resurrection (Sermon about Sodom & Gomorrah)

I preached this sermon at Hood River Valley Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) on May 20, 2012. The scripture lesson is Genesis 19: 1-25. 

Our friends didn’t always appreciate our sense of humor. I remember one particular evening at the IHOP when the rest of the group moved to another table because the two of us - supposedly - were giggling too much. Bill had that effect on me. We were best friends. We were in high school. That meant it was his job to get me to snort my soda. 

At the end of the evening, I pulled into his driveway and turned off the car. We always talked one-on-one at the end of an evening with our friends. Our giggles out, the tone would become more serious. As two young men growing up in the late seventies, this is when we talked about girls, about our families, and about all the things that mattered most to us.

***

We all have that relative who we love dearly. You know the one who's a good person but always seems to find trouble? (My brother had some years like that.) You just wish Uncle Joe or cousin Millie would live up to their potential. You just wish they’d stop making bad choices, sabotaging themselves, and hanging out with the wrong crowd.

Lot seems to be that relative for our patriarch Abraham. He’s a good guy. He wants to do right by God. He really tries but somehow he always finds trouble.

***

So, before our reading begins today, Abraham is walking with God and God’s two messengers -- the NRSV describes them as angels --though that’s not a perfect translation. Messenger, still not a perfect translation, seems to fit their role in this story better. 

Now, this is after God's bombshell visit to Hebron, a visit in which the righteousness of Abraham and Sarah is evident in their hospitality. This is immediately after that bombshell visit in which God tells Abraham and Sarah that, despite Sarah’s old age, she’s going to have a baby.

So God, perhaps sensitive to the enormity of the news just dropped on the elderly Abraham, debates whether to discuss with him what’s next on the agenda. Ultimately, though, God decides, to tell Abraham. “I must go down” to Sodom, God tells Abraham, “and see whether they have done altogether according to the outcry that has come to me; and if not, I will know.” (Genesis 18: 21 NRSV)

I can imagine Abraham rolling his eyes. I would if I were him. Not out of disrespect to God but because Lot had found trouble...again. Lot has fallen in with a bad crowd. He’s moved to the plains, to Sodom. That place that, according to Ezekiel 16, had “pride, excess of food, and prosperous ease, but did not aid the poor and needy. They were haughty, and did abominable things.” (Ezekiel 16: 49b-50a NRSV)

Abraham intercedes on Lot’s behalf. He barters with God, what if there are 50 good men, will you save the towns? Of course, Abraham probably expects God to offer a higher number. Maybe 100 good men? As some commentators have suggested, however, God surprises even Abraham with his mercy. 

God does not want to punish the righteous with the wicked. 

***

And so we arrive in Sodom in the evening along with God’s messengers. What happens next is familiar in our culture, at least vaguely. Even if you’ve never read Genesis, you’ve probably heard about Sodom and Gomorrah. As told in secular and in many church settings, this is the story of a God who punishes two cities because of their evil ways. 

God gives up on their ability to change or transform. Evil now, evil always. No resurrections. 

In this interpretation God rains fire on Sodom and Gomorrah because of homosexual acts. This ferocious god -- fed up by the disobedience of the townsfolk -- saved Lot and his two daughters only because Abraham interceded on their behalf. As a result of this we even use the term sodomy and Sodomite to refer to a kind of sexual behavior and those who engage in it.

Of course, the problem with allowing the secular culture to interpret the Bible for us is that we miss the nuance. We miss hearing God’s loving voice. We fail to allow the Holy Spirit to envelope us and guide us. Our sacred text must be read and studied prayerfully or we will be led astray. 

Perhaps even turning its meaning on its head.

***

Imagine Lot...

I remember that evening well. The sun was setting when I noticed the two men near the town gate. Why had no one offered to put these strangers up for the night?  

Well, I know what my kin Abraham would do; he would offer hospitality.  Like Abraham, I love our Lord, the maker of all that we see, the one who led our people out of Egypt, the one worthy of our worship. 

And, so, I did what my God requires, I approached the two strangers and offered to put them up for the night. At first they hesitated but I insisted. They were strangers and didn’t know how hostile this town could be to those from the outside. As an immigrant myself, a resident alien with some rights, they still reminded me from time to time when I got too “uppity” that I wasn’t “from around here.” 

So, I brought the strangers home and made them a feast! We were lingering over coffee and my wife’s famous cherry pie when I heard the commotion outside. There were so many of them! Sounded like the whole town. They called to me, “Lot! Lot! LO-OT!”  They were getting louder. 

“Give us those strangers! They don’t belong here. They probably don't even speak English!" I feared they wanted to dehumanize my guests...rape them...treat them as women. I hoped my guests had not heard their hateful words because it was my job as host to protect my guests.

I went to the door. My guests followed and closed the door behind me. I stood on the front stoop and looked at the townsfolk. They were ticked --  no, worse than that -- they were in a frenzy of hatred and hostility. Some of ‘em had been drinking. It really was the whole town at my door. 

So, I put on my most charming voice, my most respectful voice,“I beg you, my brothers, do not act so wickedly,” I said. And, though I'm ashamed to admit it, I offered them my daughters. It was horrible to do so, but I am under an oath sworn to God to protect the vulnerable, the stranger. Hospitality is just that important.

Fortunately for my daughters, the townsfolk were too intent on the foreigners to take me up on the offer. They weren’t trying to satiate their sexual desires; they wanted to inflict their evil on the outsiders!  And now I had just enraged them even more. 


They reminded me that I wasn’t one of them, either -- that I was an alien, an immigrant --and they were prepared to do even worse to me! 

I had failed in my duties of hospitality when the two men had to protect me. They pulled me inside and -- somehow? -- blinded all of the wicked townspeople so that they could not find the door.

***

I don’t know about you but I get angry when our sacred text is used as a weapon. The Bible is a powerful testament of our ancient kindred’s experience of the Divine. When it is used for hatred, stumbling blocks are put before people. 

Recent surveys have shown that those under 30 associate Christianity with hatred. Is it really any wonder... when we let the media and the secular culture define us and interpret Jesus? Jesus: our upside down savior? We let the voice of abundant love that overcomes death be drowned out by those who don't study the Bible prayerfully and thoughtfully.

According to the U.S. Religion Census released on May first, Portland -- our Portland -- is the least religious city in the country. Religious is defined as having an affiliation, even marginally, with a religious body of some kind. Only 32% of Portlanders are connected to a church, mosque, or synagogue. We’re not much better. In Hood River County only 38.4% of people are associated -- even slightly -- with a religious body. 

We're failing to teach the loving core of our faith. We're failing to teach the Bible and make it relevant to the twenty-first century. We've allowed the secular culture to limit God’s extravagant love. In the case of the narrative of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, we’ve allowed others to tell people that it is a story of punishment for homosexuality. 

It is not. 

This is a story that reveals the truth about the importance of hospitality to the stranger, to those who are not like us. As Disciple scholar Rick Lowery puts it, this narrative is a reminder that, “When you declare war on the poor and the vulnerable, you declare war on YHWH,” on God. We should all be appalled that one of the stories of our faith has been used for hatred when it is about the importance of love. When it is about radical hospitality.

Jesus himself referred to the meaning of this story in the tenth chapter of Matthew. As he sent the apostles out to teach, Jesus said, “If anyone will not welcome you or listen to your words, shake off the dust from your feet as you leave that house or town. Truly I tell you, it will be more tolerable for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah on the day of judgement than for that town.” (Matthew 10: 14-15 NRSV)

*** 

College came and I went away to school. On my weekends home from college, our friends would still gather. And Bill and I would still end the evening in his driveway.

It was in Bill’s driveway that he told me about the girls he dated, and how it never seemed to last. It was in Bill’s driveway that I first told him about the girl in the college cafeteria. The one with whom I flirted -- religiously -- after every meal. It was in his driveway that I would later ask him to be my best man.

One weekend home from college we pulled into Bill’s driveway. This night, Bill stammered and hesitated. His nervousness -- his fear? -- filled the car. Eventually, he got out what he wanted to say to me. Bill came out to me. My best friend told me he was gay.

It’s not that I didn’t care, it’s just that a best friend’s love is unconditional. It didn’t matter to our friendship. 

It’s not that I didn’t care, it’s just that I grew up in the church. Heck, I was born in the Disciples of Christ’s Vatican City. I was ushered into life in Indianapolis where my dad served Speedway Christian Church.

I threw paper airplanes made from church bulletins off the balcony at First Christian Church in Salem. I went on hay rides on a Missouri farm with the youth group. I went with my grandfather -- who wore his perfect attendance pin -- to the Disciple church in Irvine, Kentucky. I gave my Good Confession at a storefront Disciples church on Palm Sunday because I know a god who loves all of God’s people extravagantly. 

And, so, I accepted my friend for who he was because that is what Jesus taught me.

AMEN.

In the Midst of the Grandeur

In the land of giant, jutting rocks,
   carved out by glaciers,
      and filled by the powerful blue river...


In the realm of the mighty wind
    that bounces wind surfers,
       deforms tall green trees, 
          and powers homes...


In the dominion of waters of teal that crest white,
    house prehistoric sturgeon below,
        and are protected by majestic eagles from above...


In this majestic land,
   you will find God in the small, reliable blossoms.

photo by Tim Graves

An Auspicious Rainbow

Honest. I managed my time well this morning. Nonetheless, we were late for church...again. I blame my wife.


"Look at the rainbow!" She pointed out the window. I stopped and stared in awe. The vibrant, full rainbow arched from the Oregon side of the Columbia to the Washington side. 

I stood in the presence of the Divine. It wasn't just the artistry of the Creator that I could see with my eyes. I felt the stories of the ancestors permeate my thoughts and flowing through my veins. The Spirit lured me to ascribe special meaning and significance to this natural event. This scientifically explainable event became an auspicious sign of connection between God and me.


And, so, we were late for church on Palm Sunday. Palm Sunday marks the beginning of the Christian Holy Week. It is traditionally the day when followers of Jesus remember his triumphant arrival in Jerusalem, only to be crucified just days later. 


In many ways Palm Sunday is a day of naiveté. The first followers of Jesus thought they knew the whole story. Though, according to the gospel storyline, Jesus told his disciples that things would take a bad turn, they still believed that success had arrived on Palm Sunday. It had not.


Jesus, the One who breathed in the divine and breathed out extravagant love for all, was a threat to the power structures of his time. He would be humiliated, tortured, and killed by the Romans before the week came to a close. 


But love will ALWAYS have the last word. The Spirit used the rainbow to remind me of the ancients' stories of promise. Though challenging times are ahead of us, the rainbow signifies the promise of love's ultimate power to transform. 


As humanity seeks to face the unfathomable challenges of global economic injustice, a world polluted until it is warming, decade-long wars, modern day slavery, starvation, and the denial of the Imago Dei (the image of God) in one another a rainbow arches across the Columbia River on Palm Sunday.


It is as if God is saying, "Keep up the good fight, my children, my transforming, extravagant love for all of humanity will have the last word!"

Do Christians Hate Women?

This post is an open response to A Crone Speaks Out: Why Do Christians Hate Women?


***

It is true that Christianity grew out of a culture of patriarchy. Too many Christians still use the canon as a weapon to put down women but you imply that all Christians hate women. This undercuts your moral authority and is simply not true. Nonetheless, Christians have a history problem. The faith has too often been used to exclude, to spew hatred, and to dismiss our kindred in other and no faith traditions. I cannot, nor will I attempt, to sweep that under the rug. 


Those who use the text to spew hatred of women and others read the text in a way in which it was never intended, that is, literally. 


The Hebrew Bible (commonly called the Old Testament) is a collection of the stories and theological perspectives of ancient peoples. The Adam and Eve story - one of two distinct biblical creation narratives in Genesis - has been used historically to promote patriarchy. It should not be read in isolation of the first story in which women and men are created equally by God.

So God created humankind in his image,
   in the image of God he created them;
   male and female he created them.
Genesis 1:27 NRSV (Click here to read this verse in context.)

***


In the simplest terms, the creation stories in Genesis were written to explain that the Divine had a hand in creation. The second story, which you use to support your claim that women-hatred is a root of the faith, can be interpreted as a rejection of Pagans. (Though that was probably not its primary purpose.) 


Remember that these ancients strived in their stories to distinguish themselves from others. The Hebrew people were regularly oppressed, under occupation by outside groups more often than they self-governed. To survive as a distinct people, it was critical that distinctions between insiders and outsiders were clearly drawn. 


The problem is that the contemporary Christians emphasized in the mainstream media, use certain stories of the text as near-literal guidebooks while disregarding others. They've picked and chosen while claiming to take the whole canon literally. Those of other and no faith traditions as well as those within Christianity with different views, are arrogantly dismissed by these so-called fundamentalists. 


This is not the way I experience the Divine.


The arrogance exuded by "fundamentalists" is not a fundamental of the Christian faith. It is not the way I and many other Christians experience the Divine nor is it the holistic message of the Bible. Drawing upon the Christian scriptures and my experience of God, the Divine is one of extravagant love for all peoples whether they are inside or outside the church.


In your posting, you pick out one characterization of God. You imply that the characterization of God in the Bible is consistent. It is not.


The inconsistent characterizations of God makes sense when you realize that the scriptures were written by different people in different eras. The theologies and stories within the Christian canons, give us a glimpse of those people's experiences and perceptions of God, not necessarily the full or true nature of the Divine. 


However, if the biblical text is looked at prayerfully, historically, culturally, and holistically one finds the stories of ancient forebears who become more inclusive over the centuries. In the New Testament alone, particularly the gospels and epistles, the Good News of extravagant love is first just for the Jewish people and later expands to Gentiles. 


Christians do not hate women. Some so-called fundamentalist Christians draw lines between insiders and outsiders and neglect the one fundamental of following Jesus: a love so extravagant that it overcomes even death. This extravagant, ever widening love is for all peoples. It is in the spaces between us, it is within each of us (the Imago Dei), and it is reflected in creation.


God of Wholeness,


Open our hearts,
   our hands,
      and our arms;


That we might use them,
   to be extravagant lovers of all humanity,
      of all of creation,
         and of You.


Amen. 

Decaying Beavers & Rainbows

I was hiking along the riverfront when it caught my eye. At first I wasn't sure what it was and so I moved closer. I feared it would have that rank smell of death that gets into your nostrils and is so hard to get out, so I was cautious. I knew what it was when I saw its tail.


***


If you have followed any of my blogs or know me personally, you know that I've been on a journey toward "creating something new" since I experienced a Holy Spirit moment. I've let go of preconceptions, of possessions, and of identity to follow a call to Oregon. 


On this twisting river of a path, I have felt certainty and contentment simultaneously with doubts and desire to take action. Nonetheless, I've continued to hike toward the "new thing" trusting the Spirit's luring. Though waves of doubt wash over me, I keep flowing. Though I long for a glimpse of the outcome, I'm rarely privy to the details of that I seek.


In this time in which I question my interpretation of the Holy Spirit moment which brought me here, I continue upon the path with an earnest certainty. Surprisingly to me, I find myself in a town of 430 people. And I grieve the loss of daily living in my adopted big city hometown.


And I experience angst and doubt simultaneously with serenity. In this time, 

• I am steadily--though not spontaneously--growing fond of the 430 people here as well as the eight-thousand in the nearby town.
• I am quickly growing to love the gift of having Creation at my doorstep.
• I still don't know how to describe for others, what it is I do. I perceive the call to co-create "something new, something that doesn't look like church" but cannot describe that which the Spirit has not yet revealed.

So feeling uncertainty, I call out to the One. I whine to God,


GOD! I want to know,
   how to talk to others about my journey.


I want to know,
   and be in control of the path.
I want to pick the plants along the path,
   and engineer the turns and straight-a-ways.


GOD! I want to know the destination,
   precisely, exactly, and in detail.


And, God? If you can't do that little thing?


Would you at least,
   give me a sign that you've got my back,
      that I've not misread the "Holy Spirit moments",
          and that it is indeed you and your beckoning that I'm following?
Please?


In the name of the One who trusted you in the midst of his doubts,
   when he was ridiculed, beat, tortured, and
      killed on a cross by human fears. Amen.


***


At the beginning of this week, in which Christians began a time of penitentially journeying toward resurrections, I saw the bloated body of a beaver washed ashore. I was drawn to look at it closely, to see what had become of a mammal known for changing the flow of rivers. I was drawn to look at the bloated carcass that once full of life, vigorously controlled rushing waters.


I had that kind of morbid curiosity that accident gawkers possess. I moved closer to see. The eyes of this large water-controlling mammal seemed so small and insignificant. There was no strength left in this creature. There was no life left in this mortal creature that sought control of its environment.


Time flowed through the first week of my reflective, penitential journey toward Easter, and I forgot about the beaver.


I did not forget to whine, "I wanna know!" to the Divine. I was able to keep up my complaints to God all week without fail. 


On the last day of the week, I observed five rainbows. I tweeted about this remarkable series of colorful arcs:

I saw 5 rainbows [over] the course of today: two this morning &
three this afternoon. I think I must live in a magical land.
#ColumbiaRiverGorge

In this magical time in which I find myself, Creation answered me with the quintessential Judeo-Christian sign of covenant: a rainbow. Though I accept and understand the science behind rainbows, I believe the Divine works through each of us, through all of Creation, to lure us and communicate with us if we open our hearts. If we listen and respond in love, God's will moves us a little closer to the ultimate.


Though I didn't perceive it at the beginning of the week, my yearning for controlling the rushing waters, to landscape the path, leads only to a bloated carcass on the riverfront. 


Despite my petulant behavior worthy of disdain, the Divine answered my whine-ful pleadings, five times in one-day. I was reminded that the rainbows, are a sign of the covenant that God made with humanity, with all of creation. I was reminded that when God used a "Holy Spirit moment" to lure me to Oregon, that it was covenantal. I've journeyed here accompanied by the divinity that flows within, through, and between all that is. 

When the bow is in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is on the earth. Genesis 9:16 NRSV

Emptying Barns at One-Year

I remember it clearly. The two of us were sitting up in the bed, the bedroom of our three-bedroom house, after a
refreshing afternoon nap. My wife Maggie and I decided on that day that we were serious enough about letting go of our possessions to finally go public. So, I blogged our plans. (You can find that blog here.) Our journey has far exceeded our initial plan to let go of a mere 1000 items in one year. Today marks one-year.

A Spiritual Journey that Confounds

We've been at times fascinated, at times overwhelmed, and at times frustrated by the reactions of people when we've talked about our journey of Emptying Barns. So, let me clarify up front: this is motivated by our faith. It is not about "starting over" or saving money on moving vans. Because it is motivated by our faith the process is a spiritual journey. 


The spiritual aspects of this journey are multifaceted. There are two primary spiritual aspects of note, however. 


Justice & Compassion: Looking Outward
This spiritual aspect is best expressed in the question, how do my actions as a human being impact creation? This question leads me to a concern for stewardship, the care of the planet upon which we all live, and a desire to use only my share of resources. As a Christian, the Genesis creation narratives, as well as the arc of the whole Bible, inform my sense of responsibility to the ecology of our world. When the biblical text refers to dominion, the original Hebrew text implies a sense of caring for, much like good parents care for their children. My goal is to have as limited a resource-use footprint as I can manage. 

But creation includes more than wheat stalks, migratory birds, polar bears, and the sea turtle. Creation includes other human beings. My actions and inactions also harm or help human beings. When I eat chocolate harvested by the forced labor of children, I contribute to their enslavement. If I accept as "just how it is," unjust economic systems than I am not acting according to my faith as fully as I should. Because of the accidental location of my birth (white, male, Anglo, American), it is probably impossible to fully avoid participating in systemic injustice but I am obligated by my faith to try. 


The interconnectedness of all of creation means any action I take, or fail to take, will ripple and influence people, plants, and animals I will never see. But I can choose to be hospitable to the "least of these." I can choose to use resources wisely and share freely. I can choose to have less, so others may have more.


Looking Inward & Outward for the Divine
I can also choose to have less stuff so that I can see the divine in others. This second spiritual aspect of the Emptying Barns journey is about freedom. It is about the freedom from my possessions. Whether we admit it or not, our possessions, their acquisition and maintenance, shift our focus away from the Divine that is within and between each of us. When we use our time earning money to buy the latest gadget or to afford housing big enough to store things with which we simply cannot part, we take time away from others. We take away time which might be better spent in relationship with someone who needs us. The result is our stuff keeps us from seeing the face of God in others.


Likewise, our acquisition and maintenance of material possessions distract us from time spent in silence with God. The noise created by our things keep us from noticing the Divine.  And, though, I believe God never leaves us, that God is ever challenging us toward the most loving action, the noise of possessions can mask the still, small voice. If we are to truly respond lovingly, to be who we truly are, our senses need to be tuned to hearing and discerning the luring of what I call the Holy Spirit.

An Experience of Understanding & Liberation not Sadness

One of the confusions that people have about our journey is that they think that this is a path of sadness. They mistakenly believe that our happiness is tied into our possessions. It is not. Yes, I have felt temporary sadness as I let go of some of my objects. I have discovered, however, that the sadness is not tied to the object but to a memory. 

For example, letting go of my large collection of Matchbox cars caused me to burst into sudden tears. It is not the cars that I grieved. Rather, it is the joy of being with my brother for hours as we played with those cars that I grieved. We live in different cities separated by thousands of miles and rarely spend time together. I miss him but I no longer need to store a box of old toys. 

A typical comment from people who we tell of our Emptying Barns experience is, "I could never do that!" Part of my own hesitancy in letting go of some of my possessions reflects a lack of trust in the extravagant, abundant love of God. I have mistakenly believed, if not in word in action, that I need my things to be secure. My security comes from relationships with the Divine in others, the Divine in myself, and what I call the Holy Spirit. As I've become more in tune to the Divine luring and nudging I've found less need to have things around me. 

Giving away my possessions brings joy. Since my grandmother died twenty-three years ago we have stored quilts that she made. The handiwork is remarkable. Some of them she made with my great-grandmother. At most we have pulled them out every three years, looked at them, marveled at them, and then put them back in the box. I admit little joy from these objects until we gave them away. They are now the possession of the Woodford County (Kentucky) Historical Society and on display. I cannot adequately describe in words the joy that I feel knowing that others can see and appreciate the great love and skill my grandmother sewed into those quilts. I would never have felt this joy had I not let go of them. 

A Continuing Journey

We will leave for our new home in Portland, Oregon with our goal achieved. When we leave on Monday morning we will carry with us only what fits in our two cars. While I am pleased we have gone from a three-bedroom home to a two-bedroom duplex to a studio apartment, our journey is not over. We still have far more possessions than we need. 

That is why I am once again making a public commitment to continue to let go of things. I am making a commitment to embracing the Divine within and between all of us. I am committing to more fully embracing the path on which God calls me.

Expect the Spirit

I delivered this sermon at the First Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in Wheeling, West Virginia on Sunday, August 8, 2010. I always feel a little funny posting manuscripts of sermons because the Spirit sometimes intercedes and things come out of my mouth that were unplanned. That part doesn't make me feel funny but the manuscripts are not always exactly what I preached. There is a videotape of this particular sermon floating around. I suppose if I get hold of a copy, I will post it here later. The text for the sermon is Genesis 24.

Expect the Spirit

     I’ve served him for decades. I thank Elohim everyday that my master has treated me well through the years and I never ever--not once--questioned what he asked of me. Well, until that day. My mistress Sarah had passed, Elohim bless her, and master Abraham called me to him.

     I could tell Elohim was calling him home soon. His voice was raspy, his arms shook. Still, I could feel his strength underneath that frail body, that weak voice. My master was indeed a servant of the LORD.  

     “Put your hand under my thigh and swear,” he said. I looked at him in disbelief. I was expecting to get him another blanket or maybe even a glass of iced tea. I certainly wasn’t prepared to make an oath of that magnitude. Swearing under his thigh meant that failure to be diligent would result in the end of my line, of my name, of my family--or worse--his! Swearing under his thigh meant that he had a task for me that dwarfed anything, anything he’d ever asked me before.

     Still, when the master asked me to go to Haran to find a wife for Isaac, I was a little taken aback. Maybe that’s why I challenged him for the first time. No, no, no. I wasn’t disrespectful.  Just far more bold than usual but he seemed to take it well. He knew the magnitude of what he was asking. He knew I was his faithful servant.

  When he told me to go get a wife for Isaac, his raspy voice trailed off in a mumble. So, I double checked. I asked, Do you want me to take Isaac with me? In case the young woman doesn’t want to come back with me? At this his raspiness was gone.

  “You must NOT take him back there.” 

  I nodded my head in understanding as he reminded me once again about Elohim’s promise to make a nation of his sons. Apparently, nodding my head wasn’t good enough. He looked me directly in the eyes. And I saw that young master I’d served so many years ago in those brown eyes.

     “You must NOT take him back there.”

  Boy, was he adamant! If I didn’t know him better, I’d have run then. AND FAST! But I didn’t. Run, that is. I put my hand under his thigh and swore. What else could I do? This was my steadfast master. This was the man who spoke to Elohim for his people.  And, he trusted me. It’s not like I was headed to the land of his kindred alone. Master Abraham had arranged to send an angel of the LORD ahead of me. 

     I have to admit I was a little sad as I prepared to leave on my mission, on my journey. He probably wouldn’t live until I returned. No, I knew he wouldn’t live that long. If he’d had that much time, he wouldn’t have been quite so desperate that I, his most trusted servant, go to the city of Nahor.

*****

  I was headed up to the well like I always do in the evening. As I approached with my jug I saw this man, kneeling down, arms up, speaking as if to himself. 

     But I know better. I am a faithful woman, by the way he spoke, by the way he acted, he must’ve been a worshiper of our god, the god of Daddy’s kin, Abraham. I could tell that--even from a distance.  I wondered what he was doing here?

     Behind him were ten camels and several servants. The camels were loaded down; they looked like they had come some distance. The man and his servants looked tired and dusty from their travels. Even the camels looked like they were thirsty. 

  As I got to the well, he was still talking. I’d just filled my jug when the man came running to me. I thought it was rather cheeky for a strange man to approach me, but he clearly was a man of Elohim. Elohim would protect me. 

     The man asked me for a sip of water. I immediately gave him a drink from my jug. I hesitated but went ahead and offered to water his camels. I know it was forward of me to speak but his servants and camels looked so very thirsty. Elohim would want me to be hospitable to these strangers.  

  So, I watered the camels. I was right. They were very thirsty. It must’ve taken me a million trips back and forth with my jug to water them. Funny thing is the more trips I made the more energetic I felt. It wasn’t that I didn’t wish I’d had a bigger jug. But I felt fully up to the task. Our god has blessed me with the opportunity to be hospitable to this man, to care for his camels. 

  The weird thing about it wasn’t that I should offer him water, it’s expected that I be hospitable, but deep inside of me I knew caring for this stranger was important. I just felt it. You know that feeling you get when you know it is just the right thing to do? Well, that’s what it was like for me. 

  As soon as I’d finished watering the camels, he reached into his bag and gave me this huge ring...oh, and bracelets, too. That was when I suddenly realized what was happening. He proposed that I might be the wife for his young master. This, too, just felt right. I know it didn’t make sense.

  Maybe it felt so right because he didn’t start quizzing me about my family until after he’d suggested that I should marry Isaac. Maybe it felt so right because any master who would trust a servant with such an important task as finding a wife. . . One who relied so faithfully upon the god of our kin, would be a man who would allow me to be myself. He would be a man who wouldn’t be bothered by my impudent nature, my boldness. 

  In any case, this, too felt right. I felt Elohim in all this and was not afraid. So, I offered him a place to stay for the night and he bowed his head and prayed. Yes, Elohim was indeed guiding this stranger. 

*****

     As you all know, neither Isaac or Jessica has given us a grandchild yet.  This is why I’ve decided that if arranged marriage was good enough for Abraham and Isaac, then it’s good enough for my Isaac. I even arranged a meeting between him and the first girl I picked out for him the time he visited me in Lexington. She was even on board and then--mysteriously--she got sick and couldn’t make it. Now I’ve found another possibility and am working on bringing them together.  

      Seriously though, when we can set aside our twenty-first century problems with arranged marriage, this is really an amazing story of faith. Look closely. Abraham didn’t choose Rebekah. Abraham trusted his servant and the angel who went ahead of him, to choose Rebekah. He trusted God; He expected the Holy Spirit. 

  When he couldn’t go himself, Abraham chose someone who expected the Spirit to guide him. He picked someone who lived his life in relationship with the One who loves us abundantly.  Notice how this servant, prays immediately upon arriving at the well. He trusts God to help him to accomplish the task he has accepted. And because of his reliance on Elohim, the God of Israel, the same one god that you and I worship today, he is successful. And, then, after he finds Rebekah, he acknowledges God’s role in it all. He offers thanks and praise to God. This servant truly was worthy of Abraham’s trust in him.

     And what of Rebekah? This amazing matriarch of our faith? It’s unusual in biblical and extra-biblical betrothal stories that a servant, rather than the bridegroom-to-be, makes the journey and meets the bride-to-be at the well. In the other stories of betrothal in Genesis, it is the young man who meets the bride at the well. So, to the folks who first heard this story that was VERY significant, that there was something special about this woman, about this marriage.

  Some scholars even suggest that our matriarch Rebekah becomes the keeper of God’s Promise to Abraham to make many nations of his lineage. Isaac, who is often portrayed as less reliable than the other patriarchs, is bolstered by his strong, competent wife, Rebekah. As the son who is necessary to continue the lineage of Israel, the Promise of many nations must come through him. So while he’s  the vessel of the Promise, according to these scholars, it is Rebekah who makes it happen. Remember, it’s Rebekah who plots and assures that the responsible Jacob receives Isaac’s blessing-- becoming the vessel of the Promise--rather than her irresponsible son, Esau. If it weren’t for Rebekah’s faith, Elohim’s promise would be at risk for yet another generation.

  But I digress a bit. What of Rebekah’s faith? Here’s a young woman who energetically waters ten camels. Camels who can drink gallons and gallons of water when they’ve been depleted of their reserve. AND she does it with one tiny little jug running back and forth from the well to the camels, back and forth from the well to the camels.

  Oh, AND it’s Rebekah who when given a choice, as granted by custom and law, to stay home with her family or to marry a man she’s never met… It’s Rebekah who, given the opportunity to do the easy thing to stay with the tried and true, to be comfortable…It’s Rebekah who expects the Spirit. She trusts God even when it makes no sense and consents to the marriage. She trusts that God has her back. She trusts that God has indeed led the servant to her and, I like to think, she herself senses the Holy Spirit  within this sequence of events. 

  Can you imagine, friends, what it would be like to so fully trust our God that you would go off to marry a man or woman that you’ve never met?  Can you imagine what it would be like to expect the Spirit to guide you into the unknown --- just as your pastor is asking you to expect the Spirit to guide Christ’s church from modernity into post-modernity? And, yet, Rebekah, that amazing woman of faith, trusts God that much. 

*****

  So, as I’ve spent some time with this story, I’ve reflected on why it is that we sometimes lack the faith of the servant. Why do we lack the faith of Rebekah? Why is it that we spend our time looking for the Devil in the details instead trusting the Holy Spirit? 

  The world is changing out there. It’s changing fast. It’s enough to give anyone whiplash. But if we’re going to be Christ’s body on earth, we’ll need to find ways to respond faithfully even as we feel shell-shocked. 

  It seems to me, that the first step  is to change our attitude. The Fifties were not perfect and the 21st century is not a curse. We’re blessed to be a part of a fundamental shift in human history. Not, that it always feels like a blessing. But--stick with me for a moment--the move from the absolutes of modernity in which science can find the one Truth, to postmodernity in which the Divine manifests multiple Truths to the tapestry of God’s people...This is indeed a Gift and a blessing. 

  We have the opportunity to be a part of God’s movement within this change. We have the opportunity to expect the Spirit.  The opportunity to say “yes” to the movement of the Spirit, of God, as Christ’s church is transformed in ways as significant and fundamental as the Protestant reformation and Catholic counter-reformation that followed it. 

  The Good News is that we’re not alone. We have each other. We also have a God who loves us extravagantly. We worship a God who chose to send the Son to us. The One who was taunted, who suffered, and who was killed at our hands in a way that removed all dignity from him. And yet, despite our great sins, because of the extravagant love of God, Jesus rose on the third day. This God, this Elohim, is a god that I want to say “yes” to? I don’t know about you, but I am want to EXPECT the Spirit.

  So what does get in our way? What makes it hard to say, “yes” to God’s transforming and abundant love. What keeps us from saying yes as our matriarch Rebekah did when she left the only family she had ever known and travel to a far-away country? Why is it that we spend our time looking for the Devil in the details instead trusting the Holy Spirit? 

      Fear. We let a world in which the media and the politicians and even our  neighbors--both out there and in here--are manipulated by that which is not of God and then seek to frighten us. They seek to keep Rebekah away from Isaac, where God lures and nudges her so that she might do God’s will. They expect the Devil in the Details instead of expecting the Spirit. 

      Noise. And they make a lot of noise. The television. The internet. Traffic noise from the interstate that splits our town in half. And the noise of petty concerns and naysaying distract us from the voice of the One who sent the Son and from the voice of the Spirit that the Son left when he ascended to heaven.

  If we are going to get beyond the fears and the noise, we will need to begin with prayer. We need to test whether what we hear is of God, is the Spirit, and prayer is where that begins.  If we really, I mean really, REALLY believe that prayer works, then we need to be praying every day. We need pray and to expect the Spirit to nurture us and nudge us in the direction of God’s will for our lives. We must make quiet time with God a priority. A priority more important than Jay Leno, or packing lunch for tomorrow, or even sleep. 

  We do and will continue to fail sometimes. We let the fear and noise keep us from our God. We sometimes don’t pray because we’re afraid our prayers won’t be good enough.We find ourselves uncomfortable with prayer. We hear the public prayers of others. We hear those who have prepared poetic words pray for us during worship and we worry that we cannot do the same. 

  Or we read prayers in books and, well, apparently God only hears prayers that are said in just the right words. At least that’s what we fear. And it’s understandable that someone might get that impression about prayer ---but, friends...don’t... be…. deceived. Your words don’t have to be perfect. Ultimately, God hears what’s in our hearts not what’s on our lips. 

  Paul reminds us in Romans 8 that, “The Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. And God, who searches the heart, knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints [for us] according to the will of God.” (Romans 8: 26-27 NRSV) 

  The servant in our story knew this, too. He just prays his heart and lets the chips fall as they may. Why else would he come off sounding like he was ordering God around? 

  “Let the girl to whom I shall say, "Please offer your jar that I may drink,' and who shall say, "Drink, and I will water your camels'—let her be the one whom you have appointed for your servant Isaac. By this I shall know that you [God] have shown steadfast love to my master." (Genesis 24: 13b-14 NRSV) But despite his awkward words, the Spirit interceded on his behalf “with sighs too deep for words.”

  So, if you’re uncomfortable just say what’s on your heart. Even the disciples were uncomfortable. They asked Jesus how to pray and he taught them the Lord’s Prayer. So, if you’re not sure what to say, you can just pray like Jesus taught.

  Finally, what would it be like if we just sat in silent, prayerful meditation ten minutes a day? I suggest it might change the world. We don't need a mantra to chant. Just sit. Just try to be. We're all so worried about doing, so distracted by the noise. We allow ourselves to get so busy or fearful that we don't hear God's voice.

  We live in a noisy, noisy world.  Ever notice how quiet it is during a power outage? We aren’t even aware of much of the noise around us. So, make time to sit. To sit and just be with God. And when we do that, when we expect the Spirit, we won’t be disappointed. The quicksand that we feel under our feet in this challenging world will be replaced by a solid path on which we will journey as Christ’s church is transformed, as God’s will is done on earth as it is in Heaven.

*****

Please pray with me:

God of Always,

You are with us in every moment. 

Touch us with your love. 

Remove the fears and noise that keep us away from you. 

Touch us with your gentle nudging and loud pushes. 

Remind us that you desire to be in relationship with us. 

Remind us that you hear what is on our hearts not the awkward words we 

   speak. 

Give us the strength and discipline to be in daily prayer and silence with you that 

   we might hear your voice. 

Help us to expect the Spirit that we might do your will in the world. 

Amen.