Though I had thumbed Ash Wednesday ashes and been thumb-ashed before, it felt wholly different this week. Somehow, the power and vulnerability, the intimate connection of touching another's forehead and speaking those words - "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return." - grabbed onto me in a new and unexpected way. This seemed like that rare ritual in which no one was just going through the motions. This mattered in a way my mouth could not explain, but my hand and my eyes could attest.
My Ash Wednesday ended unconventionally; I joined some friends at a local karaoke establishment for some much-needed unwinding. We immediately talked about Ash Wednesday, and how could we not, given my maximum pastor garb - best black suit, round Anglican collar, sweet clergy vest* - and of course, the ashes prominently marking my forehead. As I stated on Facebook, I was reliably informed that the words "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return" are "totally metal." As in, those words would fit into the culture of the metal wing of rock music, stereotyped to be loud and dark and sometimes anti-Christian. I barely know the first thing about that music, so I won't burden you with my ignorance on the subject.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
2012 Lent 1: Ash Wednesday
Again this year I will endeavor to blog during Lent. Again this year I expect to fail to live up to my own goals for consistency, but I will at least make the effort to reflect on my journey this Lent.
No, not that journey. It's Lent, for heaven's sake. Although I suppose you could do much worse...
Anyway. I did not preach from a script today, but I will start with just a couple of reflections from my Ash Wednesday sermon. We used the alternate first reading, from Isaiah 58 (look it up; I don't have time to figure out how to link directly to the text), which I find to be a breathtakingly beautiful passage.
After God tells the prophet not to pull any punches, God reflects on these curious people who beg for God's presence while constantly ignoring God's ways and commands. Then the people whine about how God ignores their fasting, and God smacks them down proper: fasting and humility are not about self-pity, and are certainly not about showing off your piety to others.
No, not that journey. It's Lent, for heaven's sake. Although I suppose you could do much worse...
Anyway. I did not preach from a script today, but I will start with just a couple of reflections from my Ash Wednesday sermon. We used the alternate first reading, from Isaiah 58 (look it up; I don't have time to figure out how to link directly to the text), which I find to be a breathtakingly beautiful passage.
After God tells the prophet not to pull any punches, God reflects on these curious people who beg for God's presence while constantly ignoring God's ways and commands. Then the people whine about how God ignores their fasting, and God smacks them down proper: fasting and humility are not about self-pity, and are certainly not about showing off your piety to others.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
January 2012 Newsletter Article
Though I am small, my God, my all,
you work great things in me,
and your mercy will last from the depths
of the past to the end of the age to be.
Your very name puts the proud to shame,
and to those who would for you yearn,
you will show your might,
put the proud to flight,
for the world is about to turn.
My heart shall sing of the day you bring.
Let the fires of your justice burn.
Wipe away all tears,
for the dawn draws near,
and the world is about to turn.
- Rory Cooney, “Canticle of the Turning,” ELW 723
As our calendars turn from 2011 to
2012, I cannot help but reflect on the year past and look with anticipation to
the year ahead. This has been a strong year for us of Lutheran Church of the Savior.
We have engaged in new local ministries by volunteering at the Loaves and Fishes Pantry with our sisters and brothers of Sunnyside United Methodist
Church, and by building a relationship with Ministry With Community. We
continued many of our now-annual traditions, such as VBS with neighboring
congregations, our spaghetti dinner to benefit Kairos Dwelling, our involvement
with local the Thrivent chapter, our rummage sale and holiday bazaar, and many
more.
Christmas 2011
"Have a joyful, hopeful, peaceful, love-filled Christmas, and share it with whoever you can."
Thus concluded my Christmas Eve sermon last night, which focused on the four words of Advent - joy, hope, peace, and love - and how they are the manifestation of all that we have been waiting for, and all that we celebrate today.
This morning there was no sermon, but as I said to the hearty few gathered with Lutheran Church of the Savior, everything I wanted to say is contained in the text of the newer hymn "Love Has Come," by Ken Bible, and set to the beautiful French tune we know as "Bring a Torch Jeannette, Isabella."
Love has come - a light in the darkness!
Love shines forth in the Bethlehem skies.
See, all heaven has come to proclaim it;
Hear how their song of joy arises:
Love! Love!
Born unto you, a Savior!
Love! Love!
Glory to God on high.
Thus concluded my Christmas Eve sermon last night, which focused on the four words of Advent - joy, hope, peace, and love - and how they are the manifestation of all that we have been waiting for, and all that we celebrate today.
This morning there was no sermon, but as I said to the hearty few gathered with Lutheran Church of the Savior, everything I wanted to say is contained in the text of the newer hymn "Love Has Come," by Ken Bible, and set to the beautiful French tune we know as "Bring a Torch Jeannette, Isabella."
Love has come - a light in the darkness!
Love shines forth in the Bethlehem skies.
See, all heaven has come to proclaim it;
Hear how their song of joy arises:
Love! Love!
Born unto you, a Savior!
Love! Love!
Glory to God on high.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Advent 2: December 2011 Newsletter article
“Comfort, comfort now my people;
tell of peace!” So says our God.
Comfort those who sit in darkness
mourning under sorrow’s load.
To God’s people now proclaim
that God’s pardon waits for them!
Tell them that their war is over;
God will reign in peace forever.
- Johann G. Olearius, tr. Catherine Winkworth, “Comfort,
Comfort Now My People,” ELW 256
The words that begin the beautiful
Advent carol quoted above come from Isaiah, and open our first reading on the
second Sunday of this new church year. The prophet was writing to a people who
for nearly sixty years had toiled in Babylon under their imperial captors, a
people who had nearly forgotten their God and despaired that they would be
slaves forever. Trudging through endless days of servitude, stripped of power
and choice, God’s chosen people had little reason to hope that tomorrow would
be a brighter day for them or for their children.
Into this bleakness the voice of
God spoke these words of balm to the heavenly host: Comfort my people!
Advent 1: Worship in the style of Taizé at Lutheran Church of the Savior
On Wednesdays this Advent we gather for worship in
the style of the Taizé Community in the village of Taizé, France. Begun during
World War II, Taizé has become an international, ecumenical Christian community
of reconciliation between people. Each year tens of thousands of young people
come to Taizé to worship together and experience a simple lifestyle grounded in
Jesus’ love and care for all.
Worship in the Taizé style is very
meditative, with songs repetitive so
their simple words and melodies can sink into our bones and live deeply within
us. This worship includes a long period of silence for prayer and reflection,
appropriate during this season of long, dark nights and frantic busy days. To
enhance this meditative style, we will gather and leave our worship space in
silence. Join us on the four Wednesdays of Advent, 11/30, 12/7,
12/14, and 12/21, to experience this new accent on some very ancient
Christian worship.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Eschatological Ambiguity and the Commonwealth of God
Tonight I have the awesome responsibility of representing Christian tradition at Decoding Judgment Day, part of East Lansing's Jewish/Christian/Muslim interfaith series Beyond Coexistence. In studying up for this - I am by no means an expert on Christian end-times thought - I found a paper I had written in my final semester of theological education at Lutheran School of Theology in Chicago in 2007. I have decided to post that paper here as the basis for my participation in tonight's conversation. Also, I am doing this because what's the point of having a blog if not to try new and frightening things, making questionable decisions along the way? Enjoy.
Eschatological Ambiguity and the Commonwealth of God
Eschatology is
theological reflection on the future, on last things. In constructing an
eschatology we live in the maddening predicament that we are trying to reflect
on the ambiguous future with which we have had no experience. This problem is as
contemporary as it is age-old: When we speak of the future, what information is
reliable? That of the past? Of the present? Uncertainty about the unknown
future mingles with anxiety and fear, and we try to assuage our anxieties by
trying to discern the future.
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