Montclair Presbyterian Church

Graduation ceremonies began in mid-May and will continue through mid-June for a variety of schools across the nation.  Graduation is a time of transition.  It implies not just finishing with a grade or a whole level of study, but in most cases movement to a new institution or, in some cases, a whole new life.  By its very nature, graduation is a time of immense change.  While some people thrive on change, many people become very anxious in the face of change.  Have you ever thought about how and why people relate to change the way they do?

We have two daughters.  One is in many ways a typical older child and the other is in many ways a typical younger child.  Usually, the firstborn children are more into stability and control while the youngest born children are known for their adaptability, flexibility and for taking a much more winding path in life.  In the case of our two daughters, we have discovered that our firstborn is adventuresome, loves travel and deals well with change.  Our youngest born daughter is more of a home body, does not have a strong desire to travel and becomes very anxious in the face of change.

Where are you in the birth order of your family?  How do you find yourself responding or reacting to change?  Anyone who has ever been a part of a group or organization or community of some kind has experienced the various ways people relate to changes and transitions.  Oftentimes we find ourselves feeling tossed about by the impact others have on us when change is in the air.

Overall, I think I am someone who weathers change and transition fairly well.  While I don’t seek it for the sake of thrills (there are some people who thrive on the adrenaline that comes from complete upheaval), I think I do have the basic assumption that change is good and often leads to growth and new relationships and an expansion of one’s worldview.  Having walked with many people who do not feel the same way, I empathize  with those who do not adapt easily or quickly to new people or environments or experiences.

In the past couple of weeks I have wondered if how we relate to change and transition has something to do with our overall worldview.  Does it boil down to whether or not we see the glass as half empty or as half full?  Or is there something more complicated going on?  If we are optimists, are we better able to adapt to change?  If we are pessimists, are we less able to adapt to change?  That trail of thinking leads me to a connected trail which is to wonder how we become optimists or pessimists in the first place.  How is that parents who are optimists end up having children who are pessimists?  Surely you know some of those combinations.

One of our daughters tends toward pessimism and we have talked at great length with her about it.  She has said she thinks she is that way because of experiencing some deep disappointments when she was younger (wanting something she ended up not getting and being “promised” things that never materialized).  Her explanation of this is that now she prefers to think negatively about something and then be pleasantly surprised if it goes better than anticipated instead of thinking something will go well and then be disappointed.  We have explained on many an occasion that there is power in what she thinks and how she thinks in terms of the outcome and we have also pointed out that living in constant anticipation of disappointment may not be the most fun way to live life.

One of the best parts of making a transition is being able to choose what to leave behind and what to take with you on your new path.  My prayer for all who are graduating and making various kinds of transitions this year is that you will choose wisely what “baggage” you will leave behind and what you will take with you on your journey.

Every Wednesday I lead a Bible Study with a group of women (men are welcome but so far not many have attended) who range in age from 50 to 87.  We look at the text that I will preach for the upcoming Sunday.  Rather than prepare a “study,” I often ask questions of the text with them and then hear their responses.  There is a great deal of wisdom and life experience they have to offer and, like me, they are not afraid to challenge assumptions and old ways of thinking.  They come from diverse backgrounds and they represent diverse theologies.  Being with them is one of the highlights of my week!  Over time we have learned about each other’s lives and journeys.

Last week, one of the women in the group told us that her grandson had spent the night with her the previous weekend.  Her grandson, at 7 years old, is a faithful participant in our children’s program.  On the first Sunday of every month, we have our children stay in worship for what we call “Family Sunday.”  His grandmother said that before she put him to bed the night he stayed with her, he insisted they say their prayers.  She said he prayed for an older man in our congregation who had surgery recently and was still recovering.  She said that at the end of the prayers when she said “Amen” he insisted they had to say something else.  He insisted they say, “God in your mercy, you hear our prayers.”  She said that he told her it’s how we do our prayers in church so it’s how he wanted to do it with her.  She said he is very serious about his praying.

After the Bible Study I continued to think about how precious it is that this little boy is praying for people in the church, some of whom he does not know.  I decided to write him a note.  I told him that I had heard he was a good prayer and then I asked him if he would pray for my daughter who has to have her tonsils removed.  I told him she is scared and worried about how much it will hurt.  Two days later I received an email from him telling me that he prayed for her and he will pray for her again.  He wrote in his email that he is praying that it won’t hurt very much and that she won’t be too crabby!  In my note to him, I had mentioned that I hoped she wouldn’t be too crabby…In my position as a pastor, there is a great deal that moves me.  Having a 7 year old boy who is committed to praying for something that is of great concern to me is at the top of the list.  When I picture his face and knowing how serious he can be, I am deeply moved.

Over the years I have heard so many parents who don’t go to church say that they don’t want their kids to be brainwashed by religion and that’s why they don’t attend.  What I often say in the midst of those conversations is that my experience has been that many children are naturally curious about God and the world and people and love.  When you take them to church and encourage their involvement, you are teaching them a base language.  Their are many different languages spoken when it comes to God.  If children are not given any language, they are much less able as they get older to join in any of the conversations.  If you give them a language, you can count on the fact that that language will change and develop based on their context and culture and life experience.  I believe it is the responsibility of parents to equip children with the basic language.  Whether it’s Judaism or Christianity or Buddhism or Universalism is not nearly as important as simply learning the language in order to be able to engage in the conversation.  Obviously, I would encourage parents to find a faith community that is open, that allows for questioning and doubting, that allows for diversity of belief and experience, and that welcomes children without trying to imprint them with dogma.

By the time this little 7 year old boy becomes an adult, he will have forgotten all about me and about having prayed for my daughter.  But imprinted on his soul is the knowledge and experience that when he is worried about something or joyful about something, he can turn to God and express himself.  His prayers will undoubtedly change a great deal by the time he becomes a teenager and then an adult.  But he’ll understand that part of what it means to be the church is that we care about the things that concern others.  When the children stay in worship, even if only for one Sunday a month, they are learning far more than we realize.

What do you think of when you hear the word “integrity?”  Most people would say that having integrity is something they value in their lives and strive to attain.  At the most basic level, it seems integrity is akin to walking the talk.  One of the definitions of integrity has to do with being complete and undivided.  Though it may have something to do with inanimate objects (that wall has integrity), I think it also pertains to human beings.  Being undivided means you don’t say one thing and do another.  Being undivided means you have a whole self rather than parts that may or may not relate to each other.  Being undivided means you can be honest about who you are at all times because you have nothing to hide.

Integrity has been on my mind this week because tomorrow I have to go to a meeting of the Redwoods Presbytery to hear them verbally announce the decision of the General Assembly Permanent Judicial Commission against the Rev. Dr. Jane Spahr.  Janie, dear friend and prophetic colleague, was charged for having performed legal, same-sex marriages in the state of California, mine being one of them.  According to the highest court in the Presbyterian Church (USA), she violated the Book of Order (the church constitution and book of discipline) when she said “yes” to the myriad of couples who asked her to marry them legally.  The reason I have been thinking about integrity is because of what was said by the Redwoods Presbytery Permanent Judicial Commission who, as the first court to hear the case, recommended that Janie be found guilty and be given a rebuke.  This is what they said after they had made their decision “…The church’s policies are self-contradictory and ‘against the gospel.’”  They went on to affirm Janie’s call, her gifts and her ministry.

Where is the integrity in that action?  Their actions completely contradicted their words and they were divided.  They said one thing and did another.  As someone who sat in the room and heard them extol Janie and her ministry, I thought for sure they would clear her of the charges.  When they did the opposite, I was shocked.  How can any group of people so obviously speak out of one side of the mouth and act out of the other, let alone a group of people who were to rely on God for guidance and wisdom?

Anyone who knows me knows I have had a love/hate relationship with the Presbyterian Church (USA).  Sometimes I love the ideal of it more than the real.  This whole experience has been one of those times when I love what the church could stand for more than I love how it is living in the world today.  I am at the point with all of the issues related to lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer and questioning people and how they fit or don’t fit into the membership and leadership of the church, where I just want people to have integrity – be undivided – speak and act consistently.  Instead of hugging me and then standing up to talk about how I, as an out lesbian pastor, am dismantling the church and leading it away from Jesus Christ, I would rather have someone spit on me and then say those things.  That would feel consistent.  The spitting and the verbal violence at least go together.  What does not go together is the verbal violence and then the smiles and the pats on the back or the hugs or the feigned interest in conversation.

As always, I am reminded that as I point my finger outward, I must also consider how it points to me.  I, too, need to consider my own integrity.  Can I speak and act consistently within this church I call my home?  How am I contributing to the lack of integrity or to the church being divided in itself – saying one thing and living another?  Life is too short to pretend, to lie, to put on a false self, to be inconsistent and divided.  Let us all pray for ourselves and pray for the church as we try to live with integrity.

Some days I wonder about nature versus nurture.  Was I born a people pleaser or was there some aspect of the nurturing I received or didn’t receive that resulted in my wanting to please everyone in my life?

My parents were divorced when I was two and they both remarried within a year or two.  My siblings and I lived with our mom and step-dad, though we also visited our dad and step-mom with regularity.  Eventually, our dad and step-mom moved to New York City while we remained in Michigan and then moved to California.  There were five of us kids who were from that first marriage, two boys and three girls, and on rare occasions we went to visit our dad and step-mom all at the same time.

Real estate in Michigan was vastly different than real estate in New York City.  In Michigan we lived in a three story house that felt like a mansion.  The lawn in the front yard seemed to go on for acres though, when I visited as an adult, it was in reality not an overly large yard.  The feeling was one of vast space.  When we went to New York to visit our dad and step-mom, it felt like visiting another planet.  The people were strange, the buildings were strange, there were cars everywhere, noise that was constant, people in huge crowds, and heat or cold that was oppressive with not much in between.  They lived in a brownstone and I honestly don’t know how we all fit in it together.  Looking back, I understand why my step-mom kept us so busy during the day when my dad was at work!  We walked our legs off all over the city and there were times when it felt like forced marches.  My step-mom was wiser than I could have imagined at the time.  If we had not gotten out of the brownstone, one or more of us might not be living to tell about it today.  It took many years for me to feel comfortable in my skin in New York City.  Rather than absorbing the excitement, I found myself almost paralyzed by fear.  There were times when I thought I might drown in the lake of differences between me and every other person rushing around the City.  One such visit stands out in my mind.

On this particular visit, my dad and step-mom sat us all down at the beginning of the week and told us that they would need our utmost cooperation.  The space was small and we were loud and growing and often bumping into each other and not always accidentally.  They told us they had decided to offer a reward at the end of the week for the child who was most helpful to them.  This included helping with meals, doing dishes, cleaning up and getting along with the other kids.  The reward was going to be an entire box of chocolates.  As a seven year old, an entire box of chocolates sounded just like winning the lottery.  From the minute they dangled the reward in front of our faces, I was hooked.  Completely.  From deep inside of my soul, I wanted nothing more than to hear at the end of the week that I was the most helpful.  Determined, committed, persistent, driven, and discplined, I focused all of my hopes and energy on pleasing them the most.

Not once did I ever get a glimpse from any of my other siblings that they had their eye on the prize as well.  In fact, a couple of days into the week the squabbling began and fights bloomed and while I worried incessantly about not being the most pleasing, they seemed to have forgotten the contest.  Every meal I made sure I offered my help, in between meals I offered to join in cleaning up (not my favorite or best skill), and I did my level best to avoid being in the middle of any of the teasing or squabbling that went on steadily.  The big day finally arrived.  Our dad and step-mom sat us down together on the living room couch and after what I was sure was a drum roll (although possibly only in my head), they brought out the box of chocolates and announced that I was the winner!  YES!  I was declared the most helpful during the week-long visit.  In my mind, that translated to mean I was the most pleasing of all of the siblings.  The chocolates weren’t my favorite (I am not a fan of fruity stuff in the middle of chocolate), but who needed chocolate when the title of “Most Pleasing” had just been bestowed?  What I thought was going to be deep disappointment by all of my siblings who “lost”, was in fact what appeared to be indifference.  How could they not care that they had not been as pleasing to our parents?

And thus, the question of nurture versus nature.  Fortunately, after many years of therapy, spiritual seeking, spiritual direction, al-anon and just plain growing up, I think I have turned the corner of wanting to be the most pleasing.  At age 49 and holding, I can honestly say that my first priority is no longer to please people.  If my parents were to announce a similar contest today, my priority would be to enjoy them and enjoy the week while being myself.  If I felt helpful or wanted to be helpful, I would be and if I didn’t want to be, I would let someone else do the honors.  When we can finally get to that point in life where we are free to make choices and free to be ourselves, our relationships become mature relationships between adults rather than parent-child relationships.  Think of how many business relationships are built on the parent-child model where the child is supposed to please the parent at all costs.  What a hopeless cycle because those who insist on being pleased are the ones who are likely to never be pleased enough.  The only option for us pleasers is to get off of the treadmill and begin to live authentically.

A decade ago I was getting ready to turn 40 and I was enthusiastic about the prospect.  My thirties had been a roller coaster of experiences including some mountaintop moments and some deep valley moments.  When I was approaching 40, I felt strong and ready to roll.  For some odd reason I decided that I wanted to do my first-ever triathlon in celebration of my 40th birthday.  Maybe I felt as if it would be my last chance.  Maybe I wanted to prove I was physically as strong as I was when I turned 30.  Who knows what possessed me in the end!  My training was fairly low key and involved swimming, biking, weight training and indoor cardio training.  The triathlon was held in May of 2003 at Lake Berryessa in Northern California through an organization called “EnviroSports.”  As the date crawled slowly closer, I began feeling more and more nervous.  It didn’t help that I had heard the water in the Lake had not yet reached 60 degrees and many of the triathlon participants were opting for wetsuits.  How exactly does one swim in a wetsuit?  Swimming was the event that made me most panicky and I could not imagine trying to stay afloat while swimming in a wetsuit.  On the other hand, my family and friends will tell you I am always freezing and usually a shade of blue so you can imagine my concern about trying to swim while numb.  The day came and I did not drown and despite some horrible pain shooting down my left leg during the run (which in the end forced me to walk some of it), I managed to cross the finish line red-faced and relieved.

Last week I turned 49 and I am now on the journey toward 50.  How is it that another decade has almost passed?  After having done a triathlon to mark my 40th, I am stumped about how to mark my 50th.  While I still exercise somewhat regularly, my body is in a very different place now than it was in 2003.  For a minute I considered doing a marathon and then I felt so tired I had to lie down after just having the thought!  Perhaps a marathon is not how I will mark my 50th.  While I was walking this morning I thought about how much I ponder death and dying.  For someone as young as I am, I have spent the majority of my adult life so far in relationship with people who are dying.  As a pastor and then as a hospice chaplain, I have buried people who died too soon, who didn’t die soon enough and who died at what seemed like just the right time.  Part of my job for the past 25 years has been walking with people who are facing death at some point.  Is it any wonder I ponder it as much as I do?  Though I do not consider myself a morbid person, I cannot help but consider the impact this has had on my life.  While other people spend a great deal of time thinking about and saving money for the future, I have focused much more on the present.  While other people think about how they want to spend their time when they are retired, I have a difficult time imagining being alive long enough to retire.  While other people seem content with jobs that are less than tintillating, I want to love what I do because who knows what tomorrow will bring?

While other people think about fun celebrations for their 50th birthdays, I keep thinking about what would be the most meaningful way to mark what is at best the halfway point in life.  One of my favorite poets is Mary Oliver and one of my favorite poems of hers is “When Death Comes.” (New and Selected Poems, Volume 1, 1992).  In it she says, “When it’s over, I want to say:  all my life I was a bride married to amazement.  I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.  When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder if I have made of my life something particular, and real.  I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened, or full of argument.  I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.” (pp.10-11)  If I could have, I would have written those words because that is how my life has been different than for many of my age.  Death is as real to me as life is and I want to make each day and each hour count in some way.

This year I feel as though I am walking on a road toward 50.  Most people who have turned 50 say it is one of the best years and decades they have had and often they talk about the freedom they experienced.  Please, God, may I have that same experience!  So far the walk has been a reality check.  Time is precious.  Our amazing and growing and beautiful daughters are beginning to make their more permanent separations from home.  When our 17 year old daughter asked me this year what I wanted for my birthday, I responded by saying, “From here on out, all I will ever want for my birthdays is time with you.”  Time is the one thing we can’t control or buy or slow down or pause.  “When it’s over, I want to know I have made of my life something particular and real.”  I am forever grateful to God for the privilege of walking with so many saints who have invited me to join them on their journeys and who have joined me on mine.  The future is now and time is today.  What will you make of it?

Yesterday in church one of the questions I raised in my sermon was what motivates people to be willing to sacrifice or change significant aspects of their lifestyles in order to  live more faithfully regarding a cause.  One of the stories I told was about an article I read in Sunset magazine within the past year about a family of four in Mill Valley who were no longer producing garbage.  They moved from a 3000 square foot home into a 1400 square foot home and kept only those things that they used and touched regularly.  They sold or gave away everything that wasn’t used regularly.  They each have a limited number of clothing items and shoes. What transfixed me about their story, however, was that they grocery shop in such a way that they do not buy food that comes in packages.  The mother goes to a bakery each week and buys several loaves of fresh bread and puts them into a pillow case and takes them home and puts them in the freezer.  Even that makes my head spin.

Taking the time to go to a separate bakery, having the forethought to take a pillow case along, being willing to freeze bread outside of a plastic bag, and doing it on a regular basis just blows me away.  Now you can see why I asked the question, “Don’t you wonder what motivates people to commit themselves to changing their lifestyles?  Don’t you wonder what motivates people to be willing to sacrifice for something about which they feel strongly?”  When you consider all of the causes and movements in the world that we hear about and then don’t do anything about, it is remarkable when something stops us in our tracks and we begin to change our lives.

During the Civil Rights Movement I was a young child so it has only been as I became an adult and learned a great deal more about what occurred that I have wondered what prompted certain people to stand arm in arm with those who were fighting for equality.  As a pastor, I am especially intrigued by how many clergy stood by and watched or refused to join in because they knew they might lose their jobs or even worse.  You cannot imagine how much time I have spent wondering if I would have been willing to put my life on the line for something in which I believe so deeply – the value of every human life equally.  When I think about that question I automatically bring myself into the present moment and wonder what deeply held convictions I carry and how much I am willing to sacrifice in order to be faithful to those convictions.

While you would never look at me and say I am a tree hugging nature loving earthy kind of person, I do hold a deep love for our planet and I feel great concern about the damage we are doing constantly.  Global warming is not a theory but a daily reality.  The problem is that we are all geared toward consumption and to alter our lives means HUGE changes.  If I feel so strongly about wanting to participate in the healing of our planet rather than its destruction, why have I not changed my lifestyle significantly?  Am I waiting for catastrophe?  Am I waiting until I absolutely have to?

Most of us who live in America and are middle to upper middle class live in homes that are far larger than our need.  We overconsume every possible resource.  Perhaps we get caught up in thinking that our individual lives don’t matter much in the big picture.  Last week I heard a story about when Reno, Nevada, was having a water shortage and they asked the inhabitants of the city to conserve water.  The residents did such a great job of conservation that the city then voted to build SIX new casinos.  The residents were so angry that they decided they would stop conserving water since in the end it produced such horrible results.  While I understand the emotion, I don’t understand the logic.  Water is scarce.  We all need to conserve.  The residents of Reno got swept up in a political battle that needs to be fought on a different level.

At the end of the day we have to ask ourselves whether we did the best we are able to do in each of the areas to which we are committed.  We really have no idea the impact we can make as one person or as one family until we do our very best.  Today is the first day of the rest of our lives in which we can commit to doing our very best.

Last week I was texting with a friend of mine while in the midst of working on the sermon to be preached Sunday.  Many years ago she was in love with a woman who was an alcoholic and the woman eventually died from the disease of alcoholism.  My mother was also an alcoholic so it’s a familiar story for me.  We were texting about why people choose to self-medicate with drugs or alcohol.  In my experience with alcoholics, part of what seems to be a common denominator is that the alcoholic will do almost anything to keep themselves from getting real.  For whatever reason, the painful aspects of life are too much and they would rather not deal with or feel those aspects.  Often there seems to be a deep sense of guilt or shame as well that is one of the underlying contributers to the pain.  In my text to my friend when she said there was nothing she could do that would make it better, I texted back and said that for some people facing the true causes of one’s pain is just more than that person thinks she or he can bear.

In the sermon I ended up preaching, I suggested that at the heart of the word repentance is the notion of getting real with ourselves, with God, with those we love.  It’s peeling away the layers of the onion until we can see ourselves more clearly, faults and all.  I went on to say that repentance is akin to the 4th step in the 12 step programs, the step of “making a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.”  Do you know how difficult that step is for those who are addicted?  Do you know how difficult that step is for all of us?  The step requires that we no longer pretend, we no longer hide behind reasons or excuses or justifications.  The step requires getting honest about motivations, feelings, experiences, and the ways in which we have hurt people.  None of us want to think about those things and yet in order to be people who are growing and open to the movement of God in us and around us, we need to get real.  Jesus made it a point to combine repenting and believing the Good News.  The Good News (liberation, love, justice) is only Good News when we have been willing and able to get real.

Honestly, part of the reason why the 4th step is so excruciating is that eventually we get to the 8th step which is “making a list of all persons we have harmed and being willing to make amends to them all.”  Yikes.  It’s one thing to be real with ourselves about our lives and it’s quite another to have to make amends with those whom we’ve hurt.  Is it any wonder that that millions of people have turned to 12 steps programs as the primary path on their spiritual journeys?  While I am biased and believe that faith communities have much more to offer than 12 step programs, I am also humbly appreciative of all that the 12 step programs have to offer faith communities.  One of the ways in which faith communities get stuck over time is in the ability to get real, be real and keep it real.  People get involved in faith communities for so many different reasons and at times it feels impossible to identify and manage all of those reasons.  At least with the 12 step programs, their is one common purpose and that is sobriety.

Imagine how church would be if the common purpose was to get real, if getting real included “making a searching and fearless moral inventory of yourself” and “making a list of all persons we have harmed and being willing to make amends with them all.”  My guess is that a great deal of church conflict would be resolved without having to watch splits and factions and professional mediators intervening.  Maybe in the coming years faith communities will be more open to how much we have to learn from the 12 step programs and how they enhance and deepen one’s spiritual journey.

This morning as I was drinking my coffee and listening to NPR, I heard a segment on Abraham Lincoln and one of the researchers was talking about how unusual he was as a politician because he was a tried and true “flip-flopper.”  Yes, Abraham Lincoln was one who changed his mind and not just once or twice.  The author of the segment was commenting on how much more difficult it would have been for him today as a politician because of our intolerance of those in the political arena who have the nerve to change their minds on an issue.  Most of us remember when John Kerry was accused of being a “flip-flopper” and how negatively the accusation affected his campaign for President.

When I heard it stated so clearly this morning, I had two thoughts simultaneously:  1)no wonder Abraham Lincoln was such a powerful leader and 2)no wonder we can’t get anywhere in politics today other than further into the tight mess of gridlock.  When did it become so wrong to change one’s mind?  Think about the alternative.  The alternative is that we never change our minds and the implication is that we are 100% right about everything all of the time.  How absurd!  A second implication, but no less important, is that we know we are wrong but simply refuse to admit it publicly.  How equally absurd!

As a pastor, a spouse, a mother, a daughter, and a spiritual being, I take great comfort in how often I have had to change my mind about issues, beliefs, people, and the “right way.”  When I change my mind about something or someone, I interpret it to mean that I am growing in either knowledge or in my experience or in understanding.  You cannot imagine how much I have changed my mind and heart and life over the years.  Rather than see the changes as a detriment, I have seen them as signs that I am alive and God is alive and the world is alive and we are all constantly interacting in a way that none of us remain the same.

In spiritual terms, Jesus used to talk about believing the Good News and repenting.  Not many of us love the word repentance because it brings up harsh images for those who grew up in very conservative or fundamentalist faith communities.  At it’s heart, though, it is a word that invites us to turn ourselves around and go in a different direction.  What a great invitation!  We are invited to examine ourselves and our lives and when necessary to change our minds and hearts and go in a new or different direction.

If you had a pastor, wouldn’t you want to know she or he is open and listening and ready to be changed at any moment?  I would.  To not be open to change is to be full of false pride and full of oneself.  Why wouldn’t we want the same for our politicians?  In fact, why wouldn’t we demand the same from our politicians?  The world is constantly changing and we are given new and different information almost constantly.  Any living, breathing, interested, curious, humble, and mindful human being is going to change her or his mind and not just once.  So, let’s start voting for the flip-floppers and change the climate for politicians and politics in our country.  If they know we value change and the changing of one’s mind and heart, maybe they will really begin to listen to one another and to us, the public.  It’s worth a try!

For most people this week is like any other week.  All around us people are waking up, going to school, going to work, buying groceries, running errands, going to meetings, seeing friends, calling family members and sleeping.  Sometimes I have to remind myself that while I walk around during this week aware of and focused on the events of Holy Week and Easter, perhaps the majority of people in the world don’t know or don’t care that this is the week that the Christian church remembers the last week of Jesus’ life and the terrible way in which Jesus died.  What is a new insight for me in the past few years is that there is still a great deal of confusion about what to make of this week, even for those who would identify as Christian.

Holy Week and what happened in that week in the story of the life of Christ is traditionally understood as the culmination of what God wanted all along, that is, that Christ is able to complete the sacrifice that God demanded.  The formal theology for that idea is called “Substitutionary Atonement.”  Simply put it states that humans are sinful and therefore not worthy to be in the presence of God or even worthy for relationship with God so God demanded a sacrifice to atone for the sin and Jesus was appointed as that sacrifice.  Believe it or not, I grew up having been taught that theology and I lived with it for most of my teen and young adult years.  What never made sense was the idea that God couldn’t simply forgive the sin.  After all, God could do anything, right?  So why would God need to go through the whole saga of becoming human, walking on earth, and ultimately marching to death in order to satisfy God’s self?  Like many others, I didn’t question this theology openly because I was not told there were alternatives.

As my theology has grown and changed over the years and as I have developed an actual relationship with the person of Jesus, my experience of Holy Week has changed drastically.  No longer is it a self-imposed, self-mutilating, violent act of God in order to satisfy God.  Instead, it has become a story about God who became incarnate in the Christ and who lived as one of us, albeit much more courageously than many of us.  I cannot say with 100% certainty that God has only ever become incarnate in Christ.  My experience in life has been that Christ has been the ultimate vessel in which God has uniquely lived.  Having said that, I have also seen God manifest in others who have walked this earth even if not as completely as God was in Christ.  That’s important because it impacts the rest of the story.  The rest of the story is that Christ lived entirely on behalf of those who were powerless.  The story of Christ we read about is a story of a justice seeker and outcast lover who did everything in his power to EMPOWER those who were oppressed, outcast, forgotten, abused and poor.  Page after page in the story tells us that Jesus had harsh words for those who were in power, including those who were in power in the religious institutions of the day.

The story of Holy Week, then, is a story about what happens when people in power feel threatened and want to get rid of the threat to their power.  They do anything and everything to discredit, to malign, to marginalize, and yes, even to kill those who would challenge their power.  The story of this week is a story about fear.  Jesus walked through this week with courage and knowing that he had to continue to speak truth to power and that he might lose his life if he continued to do so.  Jesus walked through this week knowing that if he tried to save his life by shutting up, he would lose himself.  So, he continued to walk the path of justice and love and he ended up dying at the hands of fear.  The story of this week has been repeated many times in history in a variety of ways.  The question for us is how the story of this week encourages us or calls us to live any differently.  What is your story as it intersects with this story of Holy Week?

All over the country, high school seniors who have applied to private colleges are waiting to hear what has been decided about the rest of their lives.  At least it seems to feel that way to them.  Four years feels like the rest of their lives at the age of 17 or 18.  They did their part in researching, writing essays and submitting applications and now it feels as if their futures are in someone else’s hands.  Looking at the college admission process somewhat objectively, there probably is some truth to their feeling.  After speaking with an admissions staff person in one of the private colleges, it did sound as if there is a point at which the process becomes a bit random.  For colleges with a less than 10% acceptance rate with applicants who are all outstanding, sometimes it comes down to the opening paragraph of an essay or something one of the references said or simply the need to balance the student body in a different way.

Most of us can relate to how it feels when you have done your part to make something happen and then have to wait for a “decision” that other people are making.  As adults, most of us have experienced that in job searches.  We prepare as well as we are able, we bring our best self to the interview, we communicate all we know and then we wait as the person or people decide which person to hire or call.  It always seems as if there is a part of that process that is random.  What if they didn’t like my voice?  What if they were wanting someone older or younger?  What if they are looking specifically for a man?

The only encouragement I have to offer any high school senior or anyone else who is waiting for someone else to decide their life’s path for the near future is that somehow the decision will be the one that will set them on the path for them.  While that may sound trite or cheesy or naive, it comes from a place of depth and reflection.  I am no stranger to disappointment and I can honestly say that some of the biggest disappointments in my life were what led me to get on a path I would not have taken otherwise and was indeed the necessary path.  The problem is that until one can look back and see the truth in that reality, there is little comfort in hearing it.  It’s one thing to tell a high school senior not to worry because if they are rejected by the colleges they would like to attend something better will happen in their lives and it’s another thing for them to believe it or feel comforted by it.  When I was a senior I would not have found that comforting in any way.  For now perhaps I won’t say it to any of the high school seniors I know and love.  Perhaps it’s enough that I have known it to be true for me and know it to be true for them whether or not they are ready to hear it.

After all, the Good News I have spent a lifetime believing and sharing is that God enters even the most dismal and hopeless and tragic situations and can somehow bring something good from them despite the fact that God does not cause those same things.  Redemption is a fancy word for how that transformation happens.  Again, I do not say or believe that lightly.  While I have not suffered from the death of a child or a violent crime, my life has not been a piece of cake by any stretch.  Time after time I have experienced good coming from evil of all kinds.  I only wish I could transmit my experience to those just beginning their adult lives like transferring a contact from cell phone to cell phone.  If only we could stand next to each other and fill each other with those experiences of grace and love.  In the absence of that ability, we still have our love and presence to share.  Don’t worry, high school seniors.  You are not alone by any stretch of the imagination.  There is a cloud of people who love you surrounding you at this time.