“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. 12 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. 13 The hired hand runs away because a hired hand does not care for the sheep. 14 I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, 15 just as the Father knows me and I know the Father. And I lay down my life for the sheep. 16 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. 17 For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life in order to take it up again. 18 No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it up again. I have received this command from my Father.”
Last week we encountered the risen Christ with palms of his hands and soles of his feet marred by the world’s sin. Jesus was willing to experience the heartache of being dis-abled by the world for the sake of transforming that same world, our world. And we were sent out with this news: Christ calls us to be witnesses to this truth. God submitted to disability so that we might overcome ours. This same truth made evident in the story of Christ, our Good Shepherd. On his own accord, caring for his flock deeply enough to lay down his life, Christ acts as our advocate, the one powerful enough to insist on fuller inclusion into God’s kingdom, you and me, and those we cannot yet see. We are a post-Easter people, which means we know that Jesus’s life, death, and resurrection fulfills this Good Shepherd analogy; Christ our redeemer, bringing us into the fold. But lest we become complacent in our communities of belonging, hear Jesus again, “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. For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life in order to take it up again. Christ’s power is made evident in his willingness to advocate for forgotten sheep. The role of shepherd is not a glamorous one, it’s filled with risk, discomfort, and constant vigilance. And the work is worth it for Christ, “for they will hear my voice,” he says. As Christ’s followers, we walk in the ways of the Good Shepherd, caring for and seeking out all who desire to be brought into the fold.The question is- are we prepared for this work?- Are we willing to lay down our own comfort for the sake of fuller inclusion of sheep within our fold? And if we’re willing, what could that mean for our faith communities today? Last week we learned of fuller inclusion of the deaf community within God’s growing fold, and this week we are inspired by the story of another physically-unique human whom we’ll call Brooks. Brooks is my friend from NJ. He taught me many things, but what sticks with me the most is how much our communities benefit from truly listening to the voices of those often sidelined by physical impairments. Brooks is unlike anyone I’ve met, truly. He was only 18 years old when we were introduced; having just graduated HS, he was off to college. But unlike most of his college-bound peers, Brooks lived with two major impairments every day. Cerebral palsy and blindness. He’d also bravely faced tough childhood experiences. When Brooks was just a young boy, his father abandoned the family, blaming his son. Brooks carries that weight, in addition to constantly having to explain to people that neither blindness nor CP affect his intelligence. He’s picked on, shunned, ignored, laughed at, and not taken seriously most of the time. Even his HS teachers said he shouldn’t go to college. Despite it all, he continues to shine. Over the next few years, it became my true joy to witness Brooks shifting the culture around him, simply by refusing to be anyone other than who God created him to be. He’s brilliant and has an incredibly developed sense of self, which is why he successfully self-advocated for his own education on the local college campus. When everyone around him said, “It’s not possible for an 18 year-old with CP and blindness to succeed in college” he persisted and insisted, “not only will I attend college, I’ll live in the dorms, too.” And friends, he did. He earned himself a spot on the college’s diversity team, he earned his degree in teaching and coaching, and he earned my unending respect and admiration. But here’s the hard news. For every Brooks in this world, able and willing to advocate for a spot in the fold, so many others remain sidelined by our lack of institutional creativity and support. Most importantly, sometimes within our own church practices. And we ought not rely on the incredible gifts of advocates like Brooks alone, because we can become advocates too! When we hear a story of someone sidelined from full inclusion- we can lift their voice with our own. We can claim a spot at the table for everyone, inspired by Jesus, the Good Shepherd, our noble and ideal advocate: “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.” I thank God for people like Brooks, a prophet among us who challenges me to be more creative in practicing community across physical difference. I thank God for the ways many of you voice prophetic inclusion in our midst. I thank God that Jesus is not complacent about who’s in the fold of redemptive love. We need everyone to be who they are created to be, in hope this world might be transformed (bit by bit), together in community, into a place that further reflects the goodness of its Creator and Good Shepherd. Jesus sees every person created in God’s image, worthy of the Good Shepherd’s fold. This is such good news: you and I are witnesses to the risen Christ, no longer beholden to the world’s disabling sin...but made free in the creative Spirit of God. So let’s get to work, expanding our imaginations with fuller inclusion of God’s kingdom come on earth. Amen!
0 Comments
“Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.” 37 They were startled and terrified, and thought that they were seeing a ghost. 38 He said to them, “Why are you frightened, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? 39 Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself. Touch me and see; for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.” 40 And when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his feet. 41 While in their joy they were disbelieving and still wondering, he said to them, “Have you anything here to eat?” 42 They gave him a piece of broiled fish, 43 and he took it and ate in their presence.
44 Then he said to them, “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you—that everything written about me in the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms must be fulfilled.” 45 Then he opened their minds to understand the scriptures, 46 and he said to them, “Thus it is written, that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, 47 and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. 48 You are witnesses of these things.” This encounter with Christ could be the most pivotal moment in the life of his disciples. Many of them were not present for his crucifixion; most heard only second-hand about his resurrection; they were left discerning fact from fiction based on information from the grape vine. And you and I all know how accurate that can be. Jesus knows this too, so he shows up where his beloved friends are gathered. He reveals himself in the flesh. He offers his wounds, a chance to touch the risen Christ and believe in miracles. Christ is also making a statement by showing his scars: “the world around us does not get to define our worth based on outward appearance.” Jesus’ scars emphasise this sobering truth: even God was disabled by sin. This word disabled has challenged my understanding of human difference over the years. We generally use it to define an aspect of one’s physical or mental being that differs from the typical population. For example, I was taught that being deaf was a disability. Maybe you were taught this too. In fact, I held this belief until I met my friend Jacob in seminary. See, Jacob is proficient in American Sign Language, because he grew up in a deaf community; many of his family experience hearing impairment, including his brother who came to seminary the following year. And because I had the chance to know his brother Noah, I now understand that many within the deaf community do NOT define deafness as a disability. I will admit it took me a while to wrap my head around this. Not a disability? But you can’t hear! Noah and Jacob, and their flawless communication with truly intuitive facial expressions and signing, invited me to reconsider who defines disability. I was reminded again of this significant shift in thinking by Rev. Dr. Sarah Griffith Lund, our UCC minister for disabilities and mental health justice. She co-led our worship online last week, and brought forth this image of Christ with his wounded hands and feet- as identifying with those who have also been disabled by the world around them. See, that’s the difference between an impairment and a disability. An impairment or physical abnormality is a personal experience that society refuses to accommodate, thereby disabling that person from full engagement in the community. I like to think about it like this: what if American Sign Language was normalized in our school systems? Would I have grown up thinking differently about deafness? Not as a disability, but as a difference that adds character to our world? Noah was the first (or one of the first) deaf students at Princeton Theological Seminary, and I know he challenged all of us to consider how our educational systems (and really all of society) relegate those in the deaf community to the sidelines because of a lack of creativity. An unwillingness or lack of resources to adapt to a different pattern of communication. Of course, none of us can think of all the things all the time, which is why we must value and support the prophets among us who call attention to the ways we are inadvertently disabling people who would otherwise be able to offer tremendous gifts in building God’s kingdom. Noah and his brother Jacob are prophets for the deaf, continuing in the tradition of the disabled Christ, “The Word made flesh among us,” illuminating the need for transformative work in the educational system. Noah and Jacob offered this same prophetic work in the church I was a part of during seminary, calling on us to create deaf-friendly worship opportunities, participating in the birth of the kingdom of God made new for the deaf community. Shortly after I moved back to SD, Jacob reached out to ask if I’d be willing to support the new ministry he and his brother co-founded birthed called Deaf International. “Deaf International is a community of Christians who desire to follow our Lord Jesus Christ in standing with the poor and oppressed by promoting human rights for Deaf people around the world and proclaiming the Good News of God's Kingdom in Deaf people's heart languages.” Isn’t that truly beautiful? If it weren’t for my encounter with Jacob and Noah, I might still think about deafness as an inherent disability, not simply a physical difference inviting further creativity and collaboration. I’m still not nearly as creative as I’d like to be around dismantling the concept of deafness as disability, but I’ve been supporting Deaf International Ministries financially now for eight years, because I believe God’s Kingdom is stronger with fuller inclusion of the deaf community. And isn’t that concept so much more gratifying in the end? Seeing difference not as something to inhibit community, but to expand us all in new ways of making Christ’s presence known? Jesus’ fleshy post-resurrection appearance matters; eating fish among his disciples to confirm his humanity, offering his wounds to confirm the way the world attempted to disable him. Jesus was willing to experience the heartache of being disabled by the world for the sake of transforming that same world, our world. And now he calls us to be witnesses to this truth. God submitted to disability so that we might overcome ours. Rev. Dr. Cheryl A. Lindsay, another UCC minister, says of this pivotal moment in Christ’s life: “The Word is still being made flesh. That life requires something of us. As resurrection people, we cannot be content to be idle bystanders. We are witnesses, compelled to touch and see the world and participate in its transformation into the kin-dom of God. “The culmination of Jesus’ words to the disciples--’You are my witnesses’—is performative language in which the words do something. This scene is a kind of Lukan ordination. He first names and appoints the disciples as witnesses, literally, in Greek, martyrs. We are witnesses to and of God’s peace in the world. We are called to be carriers of that peace, transmitting it and transforming spaces by it. We are to reside within, finding our rest within the embrace of God. We are to be co-creators of it, providing fresh and new evidence of it to the idle bystander, the curious recorder, and the interested observer so that they too, when encountering followers of Jesus, may touch and see.” Friends, we need each other to learn how to better accommodate difference SO THAT we do not continue cycles of disabling a-typical experiences of the flesh. If you have a story to share, if you’ve got a fresh idea for inclusive ministry, we need you to be our prophet. And I know some of you already are. Thank you for your voices of witness. If you want to support prophets among us, get involved and advocate for ministries devoted to dismantling the world that disables difference. If you’ve been moved by Jacob and Noah’s story, you’re welcome to google deafinternational.org and find out how you can become a witness on behalf of the deaf community. There is no end to this good work of advocating for the beauty and depth of difference among us. This is such good news: you and I are witnesses to the risen Christ, no longer beholden to the world’s disabling sin...but made free in the creative Spirit of God. Amen! Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb. 2 So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.” 3 Then Peter and the other disciple set out and went toward the tomb. 4 The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. 5 He bent down to look in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in. 6 Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there, 7 and the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself. 8 Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; 9 for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead. 10 Then the disciples returned to their homes.
But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; 12 and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. 13 They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” 14 When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. 15 Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” 16 Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni!” (which means Teacher). 17 Jesus said to her, “Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and sisters and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” 18 Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord”; and she told them that he had said these things to her. A debate exists among biblical scholars regarding Mary’s identity. Various gospel accounts of Mary Magdalene and Mary of Bethany (that is, Martha and Lazareth’s sister) pose this question: Are Mary Magdalene and Mary of Bethany the same Mary? Fascinating commentaries exist on either side of this debate. Lucky for you, I won’t be going deep into that rabbit hole this Easter, but I do think Mary’s identity is important. Why? Because Mary is the first evangelist known on earth. The first to see a vision of good news and spread it to others. The first to say, “I have seen the Lord!” Her purpose in this story is powerful not only as the first evangelist, but also as the woman who lingered long enough to see things clearly. Mary’s patience is what gives us all a first glimpse of resurrected vision. It’s easy for us to read this story backwards. We know the ending. We have the ascension story in mind- so we often race to the finish rather than linger in the emotions of uncertainty Mary must surely have felt. Mary is the only disciple in this gospel account who comes early and stays late; The other disciples saw the tomb was empty and left, but Mary remains; her presence at the tomb makes this story what it is today: a story of resurrection vision. Who knows how many tears she has shed by the time her eyes catch a glimmer of white from inside the tomb! Who knows how many fears have crossed her mind before she sees two angels, who accompany her grief! Who knows the depth of sorrow and pain she holds, before Mary’s vision begins to clear! Who knows the patience in her soul as she waits on her Lord! Patience is precisely what Mary teaches us from the first time she enters the gospel. For today, let’s run with the theory that Mary Magdalene and Mary of Bethany are one and the same. Do you recall the story early this Lent of Mary and Martha? Martha, an enneagram two, was upset with her sister for her lack of productivity. And Jesus takes Mary’s side. Mary exudes patience and presence. Willing to enter the moment with someone, never too busy to linger. And it pays off. It’s in her lingering at the tomb when Mary sees Jesus. It’s in her patience that Mary encounters Christ. It’s in her willinging to live into the unknown, to not have all the answers just yet, that gives Mary the first human experience of resurrected vision. Mary is good at lingering, and because of it, she is the first to spread the good news: Christ is alive! This past year has been filled with opportunities for lingering (that’s the positive spin); we’ve had challenges that require patience; pain that involves a deeply felt uncertainty. Which is why Mary the Evangelist is the perfect person to point us to Christ this Easter. Mary shows us the way to receive resurrected vision. How? We wait. How do we see life beyond pain? We wait for a vision. How can we envision hope for a life-affirming future? We linger in the unknown. How might we trust what we cannot see? We practice patience today, and tomorrow, and every day. This could be the hardest part of a life of faith- waiting. In her lingering at the tomb, I wonder if Mary thought back to the moment Jesus revived her brother Lazareth- and clung to what Jesus had taught her and Martha, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?” I think she did, I think resurrected vision had become a part of her identity, and I bet that belief gave her the fortitude to see beyond her own pain. I wonder: was Mary the kind of believing heart Christ was waiting on to reveal himself resurrected for the first time? At once she turns around to face the one for whom she weeps. And Jesus addresses Mary, the first human on earth to hear the voice of the resurrected Lord. It’s the intimate moment in which Jesus calls her by name that Mary proclaims, “Teacher, it’s you!” All that waiting, all the weeping, are worth it in that single moment. She knows it's him. She knows that the person she places her faith in hasn’t abandoned her after all. He's really alive! Not only does she hear the voice, but she sees Jesus' risen body! “I have seen the Lord!” Do you know this truth in your life? Have you been able to see God at work, even in the difficult parts of life? Make no mistake, resurrected vision is not seeing life through rose-colored glasses. In fact, resurrected vision is often curated in environments of deep grief, IF we are willing to linger long enough to see things clearly. To see ourselves reflected in the life of Christ. This is hard work, especially when pain clouds our vision. If you’re in that position today, I invite you to rely on the faith of others. The next time you feel out of touch with your Lord, whatever the reason may be, remember Mary weeping at the tomb. Remember Mary lingering, insisting on hearing good news. Remember the new life Mary receives when she utters this profound truth: “I have seen the Lord.” That is the moment Mary the evangelist gives a testimony of new life, both Christ’s and her own. Hope made real in connection with a redeemer who can be counted on to show up. This is resurrected vision: seeing hope beyond our pain. This Easter, you may feel the relief and excitement of Mary- bearing witness to a beloved teacher and friend who has not abandoned you after all. Or perhaps you are one of the disciples who see the empty tomb and believe, but are still waiting for another encounter with the living God. Maybe you’re like many of the disciples who stayed home from the tomb in grief, and are relying on the faithful testimony of others to embolden your own. Perhaps you're a bit confused, because this living God sure hasn’t been showing up lately in your life. It could be you know this story so well- that you’ve become dull to the truth that it matters for you- TODAY! Wherever you are in your story with Christ- TODAY we are all offered resurrected vision…the chance to both receive and give the Good News like Mary, “I have seen the Lord! Guess what! He came back from death to bring new life to us all." No matter what burdens this earthly life may hold, we are not beholden to them! The power of the resurrection is that we belong to Jesus, our identity is secure in faith that he is a God of new life! And our vision is resurrected by this truth: there’s real hope beyond our pain. Amen. 20 Now among those who went up to worship at the festival were some Greeks. 21 They came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and said to him, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.” 22 Philip went and told Andrew; then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus. 23 Jesus answered them, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. 24 Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. 25 Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. 26 Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also. Whoever serves me, the Father will honor.
27 “Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say—‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour. 28 Father, glorify your name.” Then a voice came from heaven, “I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again.” 29 The crowd standing there heard it and said that it was thunder. Others said, “An angel has spoken to him.” 30 Jesus answered, “This voice has come for your sake, not for mine. 31 Now is the judgment of this world; now the ruler of this world will be driven out. 32 And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” 33 He said this to indicate the kind of death he was to die. I have so enjoyed traveling deeper into the Enneagram world with you this Lent, making the work of spirit practical in our everyday lives- like laundry and relationships and why we do what we do! Thank you for the insightful conversations you’ve offered along the way- my favorite part of worship is to hear what the Spirit stirs in you along the way. We complete our series this Lent by leaning into the story of Christ explaining his suffering to bewildered disciples. Christ’s story is one of true redemption BECAUSE he chose to endure suffering. Not for the sake of pain, but because he believed his death would ultimately bring life to countless others. Our suffering savior. We too, as people living as Christ, have this promise: when we endure suffering, it doesn’t have the final say over us. Not if we trust that following Christ’s way will lead to redemption. But here’s the rub for me. As a minister who consistently sits alongside people in very real pain, I believe that glorifying pain is wrong. I hear Jesus’ words, “those who hate their life” and I think of people struggling with all forms of mental and spiritual and physical illness- and I think, “Jesus, don’t use that language! Don’t attempt to falsely minimize pain by glorifying struggle in life!” Yet the discipline of following Jesus means staying tuned into his teachings, even the hard ones. And when we stay attentive, reserving our judgment and bias, we just might hear this parable of a grain of wheat as an invitation to consider our own losses and how they might hold promise of new life. This is the exact work we’ve been exploring with the Enneagram as our tool this Lent. Jesus embodies vulnerability so that we might be brave to explore our own tender places. Jesus does this very thing in today’s story. Less than a week before Jesus dies at the hands of Romans on a cross, he extends himself to curious newcomers. Three years of itinerant ministry, he had to be exhausted. But he reaches out with a powerful parable about what truly matters in life. “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” Jesus predicts his own fate AND acknowledges that the cycle of life, even for Jesus, inevitably involves pain. The glory Jesus speaks of is not a result of his pain. Pain is pain is pain. Jesus’ life is glorified because he believes in promise beyond pain. And that promise is what gives his life purpose: “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” We know this promise in our lives too, thanks to Jesus’ courage to live through pain into promise. In John, “Fruit” is Jesus’ metaphor for the life of the community of faith. Jesus, like a grain of wheat, offers himself in order to produce a more fruitful kingdom- one in which all people are drawn to his love. That is the promise that assures Jesus his pain on earth will not be as lasting as his glory eternal. And that promise belongs to you and me too. If a grain of wheat dies, it bears much fruit. With time and grace, loss can actually move us closer to love. It’s been a painful year for us all. Those who follow our e-news know I’ve asked you to bring your pain to worship today. This week marks a full year since our lives of worship and our lives in general have been stretched to the max, maybe even beyond recognition for some. It’s important that we acknowledge the weight of this year. As we pause for this moment of silence, I invite you to take one pain in your life- and visualize it as a tiny grain of wheat. Maybe hold it in your hand as you ask Christ to take this pain and hold it with you. Let’s gather in silence. (silence) “If a grain of wheat dies, it bears much fruit.” I welcome you to release this grain of wheat from your hold- let it fall away, gently, without judgment, as you ask, ‘God, how might you transform my loss into life?” (pause) We don’t have to have the answers today, we live in faith that they will come. Amen. One of the greatest graces for me in the midst of this pandemic has been you. My church family. You have kept me afloat on days that felt too hard. You have inspired me to envision bigger and bolder changes than I ever could have on my own. You deepen my conviction that when we share the losses and grief of life together, it lessens the burden for all. This is the stuff of faith. This is the way of Christ. This is the promise of hope that will see us through to the other side, where the sweet glow of redemption awaits. I know the Enneagram may not have been intriguing for all of you this Lent, but I hope that this truth has stirred within you: You ARE capable of co-creating your redemption story with Christ. We all are, because Jesus' promise reigns supreme, even above our deepest pain. He assures you and I today, “When I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw all people to myself.” Amen and Amen. "Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. 39 She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.” But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”
I’ve titled our Lenten Series: “Breaking Free” because the gospel is filled with language of freedom from all that distracts us and diminishes abundant life. Jesus WANTS our lives to be full of what truly matters. “I came so they may have life and have it in abundance.” One thing I know diminishes abundant life is resentment. Yes? We hear this in Martha’s response today. As an over-functioner myself, I know this feeling well and I hear it in the stories of so many relationships. Why doesn’t he pull his weight! Why can’t she see how much I truly do for this family! Why don’t they appreciate how good a friend I really am! Familiar? I suspect you’ve felt your own version of resentment along the way. Here’s the good news: we have control over our response to what happens in life, if we have the courage to dig deep. If we are truly interested in living into the redeeming hope of Jesus, we need to do the tough work of discerning what keeps us from lives of abundant hope, joy, and peace. This includes asking why we hold onto resentment and how we might learn to break free. To release what distracts from true life. “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing.” Love. The Enneagram tool, as I’ve described these past few weeks, gives us a framework for understanding ourselves better: What values motivate us and what keeps us from right relationships. Rohr says, “The “discernment of spirits” that Paul and St. Ignatius spoke of means developing a spiritual instinctive certainty for which of my impulses really create life and which ultimately destroy it.” Would you like an example of how practicing self-awareness can actually lead to life more abundant? I’ll get real practical: let’s talk laundry. Even with the convenience of modern technology, someone’s still got to do it. If you live alone, it’s fairly cut and dry. But if you live with others, laundry can quickly become a thing. This week I was searching for a particular laundry meme my friend recently posted, I came across several good ones: Indulge me for a moment: 1. “Based on the amount of laundry I do each week, I’m going to assume people live here I have not yet met.” 2. “Not sure if I should do laundry, or buy more underwear.” 3. Printed on the tag of a sweater: “Just give it to your mother, she knows how to do it.” 4. “I don’t want to make you jealous of my glamorous lifestyle, but I’m sorting laundry on a Saturday night.” 5. And the one I was looking for in the first place: “Wait, did you know there are people who wash, fold, AND put away their laundry on the SAME day?!” That one’s for my mom, who took her laundry day very seriously. In fact, it’s my mom who modeled for me that women do the laundry in the house. And it took me 4 years into our marriage to realize the reason my mom did laundry for our household is because she worked outside the home 1 day a week, not five. My mom and dad worked out household equity in which laundry was her thing, and she never resented it. At first in our marriage, neither did I. As a grad student with a flexible schedule, me doing laundry made sense. But things shifted when both AJ and I had full-time jobs, and then enter children, and I began resenting not only doing the laundry, but also him not truly seeing my efforts. Enter my Enneagram type 2 status. I love helping, until it becomes overwhelming, then I still help- but you better be grateful for it, or my inner sense of justice begins to roar! At the time this laundry business came to a head, I didn’t yet have the capacity to understand WHY I was holding resentment, I just knew something had to change. So one day, I stopped. I stopped assuming that AJ needed me to do his laundry. And you know what? He didn’t. In fact, the reason he couldn’t see how much I did his laundry, is because his threshold for when laundry needs to get done is very different than mine. Remember that meme, “Not sure if I should do laundry, or buy more underwear?” You get the point. I assumed I was needed more than I was actually needed. Turns out, this is pretty common for twos. We think we’re being helpful (and sometimes we are), but we are prone to overextending, just like Martha. We get distracted by all the tasks, that we sometimes lose focus on what really matters. Even now, as I’m folding laundry at 8:30pm on Saturday night, AJ will say, “Emily, just relax.” And when I’m healthy, I can hear the invitation like Jesus offers Martha, “Emily, Emily, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing.” Love. This is why understanding what motivates can truly lead to a more abundant life. Rohr says, “Twos, for example, develop guilt feelings when they have the sense that they are not doing enough for others.” No one is asking me to overextend. It’s just a part of who I am. And when I can recognize those forces within me, I begin to have control over them. I can begin to co-create my redemption story away from resentment and toward life in abundance. I can begin to say no to someone else’s dirty laundry. Rohr says, “Based on our predispositions, parental and environmental influences, as well as societal factors, all of us create in the course of our development certain ideals, whose realization we pursue. Our self-image is determined largely by these ideals, which we also use to measure other people. Feelings of guilt arise when we do not live up to these ideals. Likewise, we reproach others if they disregard our ideals. Unfortunately these internalized accepted ideals are often false or at least exaggerated.” You know what’s happened since I stopped doing the laundry AJ never asked or expected me to do in the first place? 1. I learned AJ knows how to operate a washing machine. 2. I learned how freeing it can be to simply step over a pair of socks rather than give into my compulsion to pick them up. 3. On the rare occasion I throw a load of his laundry in- I do it because I love him, not because I feel obligated. That is “the better part” that Jesus speaks. Helping for the sake of love, not obligation. I never thought I’d be able to use laundry as an example of abundant life- but it’s true. I’ve released my Martha-like resentment about a household task that was keeping me from right-relationship. And now, I wonder how Christ can help redeem the work of doing dishes! No matter what Enneagram type we are, all of us have room to move further from resentment and closer to redemption. In the name of the one who asks us to keep our focus simple: Life is about love. Let’s figure out how we each do that best, because love will set us free. For we know that the law is spiritual; but I am of the flesh, sold into slavery under sin. I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree that the law is good. But in fact it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells within me, that is, in my flesh. I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me.
So I find it to be a law that when I want to do what is good, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God in my inmost self, but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind, making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! That’s a pretty great definition for sin, right? “For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me.” And news flash: the person writing this is literally a saint. So we’re in good company with the Apostle Paul as we consider why we do the bad things we don’t want to be doing in the first place. Last week I laid out the theology of Jesus and his own suffering as the reason why we engage this spiritual work of self-reflection: it’s for the sake of transformation. A change of heart toward being the people we were inherently created to be. That’s what it is to co-create our redemption stories with Christ. So are we ready? Now I know I cannot give you all the layers of meaning found in the Enneagram, but I want to pique your interest enough that you decide to check it out. So here are the 9 types (or as Richard Rohr says: the “nine faces of the soul”). Be discerning what number speaks to you most truly about primary motivation: Type 1 is the need to be perfect. Type 2 is the need to be needed. Type 3 is the need to succeed. Type 4 is the need to be special. Type 5 is the need to perceive. Type 6 is the need for security. Type 7 is the need to avoid pain. Type 8 is the need to be against. Type 9 is the need to avoid. Richard Rohr incorporates “root sins” into his descriptions of each type as well; these are harder to hear- and maybe more important. One’s go to anger; Two’s fall to pride; Three’s wrestle with vanity; fours struggle with self-pity or envy; for fives its greed; sixes experience fear; sevens gluttony; eights are prone to lust; and nines, well- they’re a little lazy. Hard to hear, right? None of us want to think about these aspects of ourselves, but when we do, we can begin to understand why we act the way we do sometimes. Discerning our core spirits involves taking a hard look at all the forces that impacted who we developed to be. To add more dimension to this work, we also have “wing types,” always on either side of our numbers. So I’m a two, with a strong three wing. Or at least those are the numbers that make me feel most uncomfortable when I read what Rohr has to say. That’s supposedly the best way to figure out your number. Reading full descriptions of each number, and as Rohr says is his rule of thumb: “ If you don’t sense the whole thing as somehow humiliating, you haven’t yet found your number.” Another description of the types for you: This time, a look at how Jesus in his ministry on earth, embodies each type’s redeeming qualities: In Jesus we see Ones possess skills for teaching, tolerance, and patience; we see Twos enact care, compassion, and solidarity; we see threes offer others their ambition, energy, and vision; we see fours evoke creativity, sensitivity, and naturalness; we see fives use healthy distance, sobriety, and wisdom; we see sixes practice fidelity, obedience, and trust; we see sevens share festiveness and joy; we see eights embrace confrontation, clarity, and authority; and finally, we can see in Jesus how nines restore composure, peace, and love. When the Apostle Paul asks himself who will rescue me from the sin that holds me capture? The answer is the same for him as for us. Jesus, of course. The only person on earth who realized full integration and maturity, even in the midst of being executed. In other words, we Christians have a pretty great example AND reason to do this discernment that leads to transformation. Jesus already did- and paved a way for us to experience redemption, one glimpse of our true selves at a time. You’ve likely not figured out your type based on this sermon alone- but if these descriptions have gotten your attention, go ahead and do some self-study this week. Remember, you’re in good company when you do. The Apostle Paul’s writings are filled with his own self-reflection for the sake of transformation. Koller says, “for this spiritual self-work on existence we have been given a tool--the capacity to perceive. The instrument of transformation is not moral reflection on the self, but content-free perception of the self.” This is the gift that Christ offers us on the road to redemption. A way to perceive ourselves as Christ does: with infinite grace. Don’t let sin shame you for another second. The gospel truly offers us good news: we no longer belong to the sin that leaves us feeling shame. Shame, that inner voice of judgment, often telling us we’re not good enough?” That voice is never Christ’s voice. Christ gave his life so that we might begin to perceive our true selves the way Christ does, filled with the potential for transformation. Amen. 31 Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. 32 He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. 33 But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”
34 He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. 35 For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. 36 For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? 37 Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? 38 Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.” Self-sufficiency- why do we value it so much? It’s almost a given that we will be praised for being self-sufficient in this world, right? Merriam-Webster defines it as, “The ability to maintain oneself without outside aid.” Sounds pretty great, right? It does, just like lots of other ways of pretending that we don’t need God. If we would claim true self-sufficiency, what we’re claiming is that we’re powerful enough to redeem ourselves- able to maintain our salvation without outside aid. So many of the world’s messages reinforce this. “Pull yourselves up by your bootstraps, why don’t you?” But just imagine if Jesus, the one human who actually could do this, imagine if he relied on his self-sufficiency. How would that have altered Christ’s story? He would never have made his way to the cross. “Save yourself, Jesus,” the Pharisees mock him as he takes his final breaths. “Pull yourself up by your bootstraps, Jesus!” He doesn’t waste his energy explaining himself to those who can’t yet see that life is more valuable when given for the sake of others. Instead, with every dying breath, he fulfills the teaching we hear today. He sets his mind on the divine. Jesus knows suffering, and he embraces it- not because suffering is fun. Suffering is always excruciating. No, Jesus understands in a visceral way that his suffering comes before the transformation God intends for the world. With this in mind, we enter the spiritual work of self-reflection for the sake of transformation, aided by the Enneagram as I introduced last Sunday. If you had a chance to read a bit about it using the links in the email, I’d love to hear your thoughts. If you haven’t yet- it’s worth a look. In a sermon series like this, we won’t peel back all the layers of this spiritual tool, but the concepts are available to each of us, if we have the courage (and time) to engage them. Richard Rohr’s work in The Enneagram: A Christian Perspective* is a hard read, because as Christians, it touches us at our core. His words illuminate the hard places in our hearts, the powers that keep us from true union with God. He gives these parts of us the name, sin. Why do this hard work of the spirit, especially if it exposes what we’d rather keep hidden? Jesus says it best: “For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life?” In other words, self-sufficiency sounds great on paper, it may even impress our neighbors, but if it means forfeiting a life of spiritual connection with God and others, is it really of value? Here’s a bit from Rohr’s introductory remarks, I hope you find his words as compelling and convicting as I do: Rohr says of his 30+ years working within churches, “I am convinced that most of our ministries have legitimated the autonomous self and even fortified it with all kinds of religious armor. Religious people are even harder to transform because they don’t think they need it.” If our religion leads us to a false notion that we are self-sufficient, then maybe even our religion is sinful. Rohr offers, “The Enneagram is an ancient Christian tool for the discernment of spirits, the struggle with our capital sin, our false self, and the encounter with our True Self in God. Anything this powerful and this converting is sure to be fought and resisted by the egocentric self. We do not give up control to God easily.” We want to be self-sufficient! Which is why the work of spirituality is, “dismantling the separate self so it can fall into the Great Self of God.” We need God, and we need others on this journey with God- to help us with the discernment of spirits. That’s what spiritual practices like this Enneagram work offer. A way to expose what is sin in our lives and where spirit is at work SO THAT we might embrace redemption as a way of life. Rohr presents the Enneagram as a Christian spiritual tool, and he uses the language of “our unredeemed selves and our redeemed selves.” This langage blew me away with its simple honesty and its hope. Yes, we all have sin within us (and we never won’t), but if we so desire, we can become co-creators with Christ of our redemption stories. We can learn to discern spirit at work in our lives. We can accurately recognize the motivations that are sinful and those that are sanctified. But it takes real practice. Here’s what we know from Jesus: Faith requires braving vulnerability for the sake of transformation. Rohr says, “human beings cannot see what they are not readied to see. We cannot hear what we have not been prepared to hear. [...] If we are unwilling to live askew for a while, to be set off balance, to wait on the ever spacious threshold, we remain in the same old room all our lives.” Jesus’ teachings do exactly this for us… shake us up! Rohr says, “Christianity is probably the only religion in the world that teaches us, from the very cross, how to win by losing. It is always a hard sell. Especially for folks who are into strength, domination, winning, and enforcing conclusions. God’s restorative justice is much more patient, and finally much more transformative, than mere coercive obedience.” Friends, this journey of Lent feels especially powerful, because we have ALL experienced suffering in a new way this year. Not all equally, to be sure, but all have suffered. And if we learn anything from Jesus’ journey to the cross its this: suffering holds promise for redemption. Rohr: “We suffer, come through it transformed, and then we have a message! This is the clear Jesus pattern and why he trained his disciples in the necessary path of suffering. There is something, it seems, that we can know in no other way. We hope to bypass such suffering by being moral, by being orthodox, by being ritualistic, but his words remain the same to us: “The cup that I must drink, you must also drink.” In whatever emotional space you’ve entered Lent this year, hear this good news. The work of redemption belongs to God, the path of redemption is held by Christ, and the gift of redemption is ours to co-create with the author and perfecter of our faith. In the next few weeks, we’ll take a closer look at the particular motivations that each of us possess, and how we keep moving, one day at a time, from our “unredeemed selves” to our “redeemed selves” in Christ. “Weeping may last for the night, but joy comes with the morning.” In this hope and truth we do the hard spiritual work together this Lent. Amen. *All quotes in this sermon are taken from the introduction of Rohr's book. Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.
Consider him who endured such hostility against himself from sinners, so that you may not grow weary or lose heart. In your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood. And you have forgotten the exhortation that addresses you as children-- “My child, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord, or lose heart when you are punished by him; for the Lord disciplines those whom he loves, and chastises every child whom he accepts.” Endure trials for the sake of discipline. God is treating you as children; for what child is there whom a parent does not discipline? So do you want the good news or bad news first? I always pick the bad news first- so let’s start there. You and I need to be disciplined. Ugh, gross, right? Who likes discipline? I don’t. Give me a choice between chocolate and broccoli? Chocolate wins. Chatting idly with a friend or listening to the story of a stranger? Chat, every time. Binge-watching my favorite TV show or reading the Bible? Binge-watching happens more than I would like to admit, friends. So what, are chocolate, chatting and watching TV really all that bad? Well, not exactly. The bad news is that none of those things leads to better health or greater kindness or a changed heart. We humans don’t naturally gravitate toward disciplined living. Or at least, this human doesn’t. A choice between what is easy and what is hard? We choose the path of least resistance, right? Here’s the thing: The author of Hebrews isn’t pulling any punches about what Jesus expects of us, you and I who choose everyday to live into our Christian identity. Cast aside sin. Run with perseverance. Sacrifice immediate gratification for something much greater: the discipline of the Lord. Gosh, that sounds like a lot of work, doesn’t it? Why would we want to do this? Well that’s the good news: discipline or spiritual disciplines ARE life-giving. It’s like this: chocolate is momentarily delicious, but broccoli gives us the strength to more fully pursue our passions. Chatting with a friend brings happiness, but creating a new friendship brings potential for greater joy. Binge-watching TV satisfies our hearts for a moment, but engaging in sacred stories transforms our hearts for a lifetime. And if it's good news that spiritual disciplines are life-giving, it’s even greater news that each of us possess the capacity to actually practice a spiritual discipline. You do, and you likely already are! That’s a major part of our Christian tradition during the season of Lent. Disciplining our appetites, to make more room for the spirit to stir in us. Now, I don’t think discipline for the sake of rule-keeping is what Jesus asks of us. Not at all, mostly because a lot of rules, especially religious ones, originated with humans, not God. That means I can’t prescribe for you the right spiritual discipline in your life. That’s up to you and God. What I can tell you, is what I know to be true about the result of spiritual disciplines. They change our hearts. They change our lives. They create greater awareness of what is actually preventing us from experiencing wholeness. In short, they help us identify sin (meaning, all that keeps us from full connection with God, with others, and with our best selves) AND give us a framework for repenting of the sin and making a turn toward greater spiritual health. So maybe it wasn’t actually bad news after all. You and I need to be disciplined, yes, and that CAN BE a really beautiful thing; enduring discipline, spiritual discipline is worth it, because it leads to a firmer identity in Christ, the author and perfector of our faith- the ONLY one who can lead us to lives of redemption. Over the next 5 weeks, I’m going to introduce to you a helpful spiritual tool that can lead to greater self-awareness and transformation of our hearts. The tool is called the Enneagram, a philosophy of 9 different “personality types” that each respond to a primary motivation. Richard Rohr’s work in particular helps us see what can be sinful about our primary motivation AND what can be sanctified about it. The best part is this: WE HAVE AGENCY OVER SIN, but only when we learn to recognize it. Only when we discipline our spirits to be discerning and wise. Becoming co-creators with Christ in our own redemption stories is possible when we are willing to engage the sin at work in us. In fact, self-reflection (and all the hard, vulnerable work involved) may just be the most important spiritual discipline that you and I will ever practice. I’d like to leave you with this thought from Dietrich Koller, whose wisdom accompanies Richard Rohr’s book on the Enneagram. “Now no book and no counselor, no therapist and no Enneagram can spare me the work of transforming myself. Transformation is at once a task and a grace. Unless I work on myself, divine grace cannot become fruitful. And without divine grace, my work is in vain. Repentance is a process in which my work and God’s work becomes simultaneous. God grants conversion, but I have to make use of it and concretely convert. 2 Cor. 7:10 says, “this is a repentance that no one regrets,” And we don’t regret it, Koller says, because it actually creates healing and saving.” I am excited to introduce you to the Enneagram, and I am even more excited to explore how YOU and I can become co-creators in our redemption stories. Welcome to the Lenten journey. You remember our labor and toil, brothers and sisters; we worked night and day, so that we might not burden any of you while we proclaimed to you the gospel of God. You are witnesses, and God also, how pure, upright, and blameless our conduct was towards you believers. As you know, we dealt with each one of you like a father with his children, urging and encouraging you and pleading that you should lead a life worthy of God, who calls you into his own kingdom and glory. We also constantly give thanks to God for this, that when you received the word of God that you heard from us, you accepted it not as a human word but as what it really is, God's word, which is also at work in you believers.
We are in our final week of exploring what it means to add just 5-15 minutes a day of sharing faith with our families and friends from home. To catch us up on Rich Melheim’s Faith5, we 1. share (highs and lows), 2. read (a story from scripture), 3. talk (about why it matters), 4. pray (for each other), and finally today, maybe the most powerful of all: 5. we bless. I love this line of Paul’s, “We constantly give thanks to God- that when you heard the word of God from us, you knew it was more than human speech, it was God speaking into your life.” What we say to each other matters a lot. Throw-away words are not a thing that exist in human relationships. Think for a minute about the last hurtful thing someone said to you. You remember it, right? You maybe even feel the emotion of that moment. Words matter- and how we use our voices with one another has a powerful impact on who we become. Both as individuals and as a family. I’d like us to think more broadly than our immediate families as well- to this church family. What we say matters. We all have patterns of speaking with each other, whether we are mindful of them or not. And today the invitation is for us to be mindful of how our words are not just mere human speech. As believers, we are also ambassadors of God, and when we talk- whether we mean to or not, people will perceive us as God’s messengers. That’s kind of a lot of pressure, right? Oh boy! Now don’t let your mind go down the rabbit hole of all the ways you haven’t been mindful of your speech, unless there’s an apology you need to offer, of course. We all have guilt in this arena, it’s time to let it go. Instead, let’s focus on what we do with our voices from now on. The spiritual life is about constantly paying attention to where God is leading us next. So let’s be led into a way of blessing. What do I mean when I say, ‘we bless?’ It’s as simple and profound as this: We tell each other that we are a blessing. From God to others. And HOW we say this takes on as many expressions as we have creativity to produce. The simplest way, the one our SS kids are taught here, is this: “You are a blessing.” That’s it! And with consent, it often involves a tender touch on the forehead or hand. Only when we receive the good news of blessing will our identities be shaped in wholeness and love. And only from a place of wholeness can we offer others the blessing that is due them. This week, AJ put Briggs, our 6 year-old, to bed, which meant he also got to bless him. (that’s when we do our final step in the Faith5 routine). But before that could happen, Briggs asks daddy, “will you say nice things about me, daddy?” “Like what?” AJ asks, “Oh, everything,” Briggs responds, matter of factly. After Aj told me about this conversation, I said, “See? We’re teaching our kids emotional intelligence- asking for what they need.” We’re also teaching Briggs spiritual intelligence, ending his day by reflecting on all the good he brings this world in the name of his Creator. That’s the blessing at work. And it instills in us the confidence to be God’s voice of blessing to others. Rich Melheim- the power of a blessing. Our kids express the moment of blessing a little differently, Briggs is a little more eager to receive the blessing, and Blaire insists every night on returning a blessing to her mommy. Here’s the one she usually offers me: “You are a blessing, you are from God and Jesus in heaven, Amen.” Friends, I am thoroughly convinced that what the world needs most from us right now is more blessing. Let’s be that blessing. Let’s give and receive the knowledge that God’s goodness exists in us all, created for the healing of a hurting world. |
Rev. Emily Mungerdelights in connecting sacred texts with everyday life. Sermon Archives
August 2023
|