On the Wall Conversations

War on Religious Freedom? Get in Line.

I sat at my computer yesterday and, like most people, was bombarded by an image of five religious leaders testifying about the war on religious freedom surrounding the issues of women's health and birth control. At first, I was shocked to see a panel of all men testifying about women's health, but then when I realized the panel was representing the opinion of the "faith community," I was horrified.  The five men represented four expressions of faith - Roman Catholic, Southern Baptist, Orthodox Judaism, and Lutheran (Missouri Synod) - all of which do not believe in the ordination of women, or even the equality of men and women when it comes to church leadership. These gentlemen want to talk about how their religious freedoms are in jeopardy? Get in line.

The truth is religious freedom isn't at stake - their particular expressions and interpretations are just no longer the loudest voices.  Join the club.  For years my own expression of faith has taken the back seat to the louder conservative voices. They weren't concerned with my religious freedom when we went to war or when people were killed on death row.  They weren't concerned when tax breaks helped the wealthy instead of feeding the poor.  They weren't concerned when lines were drawn in the sand to suppress equality based on gender, race, and sexual orientation.  We live in a country that doesn't have ONE version or political slant when it comes to religion.

This lame attempt to say our country's current administration is threatening religious freedoms is embarrassing to the faith community as a whole.  For centuries, people of faith have been trying to live together and figure out how their faith intersects with politics.  But our interpretations will make us at odds time and time again.  It's a matter of fact.  There will be times when our faith isn't best represented by the decisions of the country as a whole.  That's what living in community is all about. We have to learn to dialog and be in conversation with one another. We have to, at the very least, invite others to the table. The war on religious freedom begins with the suppression of voices. A freedom was absolutely at stake yesterday, but it wasn't the one for which these men were arguing. 

Today I am extremely thankful to be a part of a church and a denomination that recognizes the leadership gifts of women and ordains them to both roles as pastors and lay leaders. A denomination that gives voice to all voices, even when they disagree. There is beauty in diversity and that diversity is not a threat to religious freedom.

Making Room for Advent

In a world of electronic downloads, fast food, push notifications, and instant coffee, the act of waiting can seem like a foreign concept. I am amazed at how quickly I get agitated waiting in line at the grocery store (behind *gasp* two people), waiting for the red light to change, or waiting for a website to load. It sometimes can feel like we just aren’t wired for waiting. So, I am fascinated that the Christian calendar doesn’t start with a joyous New Year celebration like our American calendar. It, instead, starts with Advent — with waiting.

We are not comfortable with that waiting – just look at the faces of people in the pews when those pesky advent hymns begin instead of singing our beloved Christmas carols. We want Christmas and we want it now! It is hard to live into that spirit of waiting when the world around us tells us that we can have Christmas every day starting on Black Friday (or before). But by the time Christmas rolls around, we are exhausted from Christmas – and we have missed the point.

Our world needs to practice waiting in darkness for the Christ child. We need to stop and rest awhile in the uncomfortable places of sadness, longing, and emptiness because Christ doesn’t break into a world filled with merriment. He breaks into a world of brokenness – a world that is longing, waiting, for a savior. And when we acknowledge that need and the emptiness in our lives today, the birth of a baby in Bethlehem takes on a whole new meaning.

The world is waiting. Our country is waiting. Our communities are waiting. Our churches are waiting. We are living in a time of advent. There is no time more perfect for Jesus to break into our world. Make room in your lives for the coming Christ. 

 

Liberty and Justice for All?

This weekend we celebrated America's birthday. And I'm all for grilling up some burgers, pulling out your red, white, and blue clothes (even matching them together when you wouldn't normally), and gathering at the neighborhood pool party. It is a time to remember the sacrifices made by those who came before us so we could live in a free country and a celebration of that freedom today. But have we misinterpreted freedom in light of who we are called to be? 

Yesterday, I watched Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest. Despite being absolutely disturbed by how gross it must be to eat over 50 hot dogs in under 10 minutes, I am also disturbed by the message sent by these kinds of displays. Could there be any more blatant symbol of our gluttony to the world than eating as much food as we can just because we can and calling it sport? People all over the world are starving and we make a mockery of it.  How is this ok? The evening was capped off with some fireworks. For those who know me, you know my issues with the immense waste of blowing up expensive explosives in the sky for enjoyment. But last night, my husband and I stood in our upstairs bedroom and watched out our window facing south (away from DC) at least 25 different fireworks shows. Has our freedom gone too far?

From the beginning of creation, God has set our lives in motion with purpose. We are to love God and love neighbor. We have a purpose to care for one another and to worship the God who made it all possible. Our very pledge of allegiance ends with the promise of liberty and justice for all. But do we really mean that?  Don't we really mean "liberty and justice for Americans"  or better yet, "liberty and justice for those who look and talk like me?" When I look at the way our country celebrates its independence, I wonder what the world thinks? I wonder if they roll their eyes like you would a spoiled child who doesn't know how to responsibly handle the wealth it has hoarded.  

Yes, we are free. Free to worship how we want, free to elect those who govern us, free to have an education, free to work where we want, free to buy food at the grocery store, free to choose our friends and our spouses. But we are not free from the responsibility of God's first commissioning - to care for the earth and one another. We are not free to live a life that harms another life. We are not free to exclude people from our circles. We are not free to live a life of over-indulgence that oppresses others.  I invite you to consider the ways in which we celebrate being American and the implications for our brothers and sisters who do not have the same freedoms.  I invite you to consider what a more faithful celebration might look like.

That All May Freely Serve

For my entire lifetime (literally), the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) has been fighting over our ordination standards to become more inclusive of the lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender community. This is a particularly important issue for the PC(USA) because, as Presbyterians, we not only ordain our clergy, but our lay leaders known as elders and deacons. As it stood, our requirements for ordination included, "fidelity within the covenant of marriage between a man and a woman or chastity in singleness." The proposed amendment changes the wording to "Standards for ordained service reflect the church's desire to submit joyfully to the Lordship of Jesus Christ in all aspects of life." This was approved at last summer's General Assembly, but on Tuesday night, it was ratified by the 87th presbytery needed for it to become part of the church's Constitution.

This is a good day for the Body of Christ!

Many will disagree. This will inevitably cause a greater divide and division within our denomination. I wish it didn't have to be this way. At the root of the amendment is not "anything goes." The root of this amendment allows us to have a more faithful conversation about how Christ is Lord over all aspects of life, including our sexuality. Can we now have a real conversation about sexuality in the church? We have wasted years of pastoral ministry to this debate. We have put people in two camps - heterosexual and homosexual. We have said yes to one and no to the other. We have missed the opportunity to ministry to the LGBT community because we have been so wrapped up in lumping them into one category. We have sent the message that its either all good or all bad. We have refused to see the difference between a healthy gay couple and a promiscuous gay lifestyle. This amendment allows us to have these faithful conversations - for homosexuals and heterosexuals. Instead of saying who is out and who is in with black and white lines, it allows discerning conversation, regardless of sexual orientation. It allows congregations to consider the calling and gifts of each individual without limitation of the Constitution.

We step into this new world with grace, remembering that it is not humans who call, but God. This isn't a liberal vs. conservative story. This is a story about thousands of faithful people trying to discern, interpret, and live out Scripture. All who voted and gave voice, did so faithfully, regardless of their vote. I pray we don't use Scripture as a weapon, on either side. I pray that through this amendment and other proposals we learn to unite through our differences. I pray we do not judge our neighbor's opinion without hearing and understanding it first. God's love and God's kingdom is big enough for both.

For those in our communities who have been victims of hate because of sexual orientation... for those who have been turned away from our churches... for those who have not experienced the love of Christ from those who claim to be Christians... for those who have felt outside of God's love and grace... for those whose family members have been turned away while you sit inside our buildings, torn inside... I am most deeply and sincerely sorry. I pray for God's reconciliation. I pray for God's gracious love. I pray for your forgiveness. I pray for this new day of Church.

 Photo by Scarycrow

How Great Thou Art

Like so many, the news of Osama bin Laden brought about a mixture of emotions.  I woke this morning to a host of Facebook statuses that made me think about where my heart rested with this announcement.  I was overwhelmed by the memories of 9/11, of my scared students in lockdown, of the stories of those whose loss was incredibly raw, and of a sense of a united nation who lit candles on their porches and blared American music from their stereos.  I want so badly to join those parties today cheering about the death of his horrible man, to celebrate this great victory, to throw up my middle finger and say "&^#$ this, Osama!"

This is when I really dislike Jesus.  A man, who on the cross, in the ultimate of betrayals, cries out, "Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing."  Not a message of vengeance, but one of forgiveness.  It brings tears to my eyes to think of the hate stored up in the hearts of Americans.  We've had ten years to forgive this man, and instead we have held onto our hate like a badge of honor.  This hate has not made us holier or more righteous - it has separated us from God.

You see, the God I worship, the one to whom I devote my life, whose resurrection I celebrated just last week  is greater than a false sense of justice being found in the death of Osama bin Laden.  Wouldn't it be cosy to think that God loves everyone, but smiled just a little bit when our military busted in and shot Osama in the head?  That God would be very popular in our world.  But the Good News is that He is so much greater.  Because a God who can forgive a man like Osama is a God I want to worship.  Because a God who can love a man who lived a life of hate is a God to whom I want to devote my life.  Because a God who died for a terrorist is a God whose love I can't help but fall to my knees in awe.

Today I wish I could blare the trumpets and rejoice in the murder of this terrible man, but instead, I am inside doing the hard work of forgiveness.  And it sucks.  But, I do this because I know there is no place for hate in the hearts of those whom God has claimed.  I do this because I know the only true peace and wholeness comes from Christ, and not from vengeance.  I do this because the hate in my heart doesn't stick it to Osama, it is a cancer that eats at my soul.  I do this because God has seen the ugly depths of my soul, and has forgiven me just the same.  I cannot do otherwise.

My Voice Matters

I've been away from this blogging thing for awhile.  Perhaps it has something to do with getting engaged only a few days after my last post and being thrust into wedding planning.  Perhaps it has something to do with writer's burnout after pouring my heart and soul into my Systematic Theology Credo last spring.  Or perhaps I wondered if there was any reason for this one particular voice to be heard.  Well, the wedding is over, the paper is turned in, and I've been hearing that still small voice recently whispering, "your voice matters."

I am a woman. While the number continues to grow, according to Barna, only 10% of Protestant pastors are female.  And while I have no plans to join those ranks, there is no doubt a shortage of female leaders in the church... ordained or not.  Our church recently had a female guest minister who was incredible, but the overarching response was negative.  It took me awhile to realize that a congregation who has only ever had older male pastors would expect females in the pulpit to act masculine, and she did not.  She was gentle, compassionate, loving, soft, nurturing, all woman - it was a breath of fresh air and I loved every minute.  Our churches will need to embrace the feminine if we want to be truly a place of equality. Your voice matters.

I am a mainline protestant. I am tired of the evangelical voice having the final say.  I am tired of having to explain myself at every turn... "No, I'm not that kind of Christian."  I am tired of people thinking I am uneducated, judgmental, exclusionary, hypocritical, and gay-hating just because I work in a church.  I'm not, and there are a whole lot of Christians like me.  (Don't get me wrong... I have my moments of judgment and hypocrisy.)  Hate and judgment do not have the last word in our churches though - love and grace always prevail.  We live in a "post-Christian" world and I am beginning to think that might be God's hand at work in our world.  People are rejecting Christianity - which today often looks like a being a good and moral person to avoid hell.  And I don't blame them.  I reject that thin view too.   Your voice matters.

I lean left and I am a Christian. I believe that killing another as a form of punishment is as wrong as the offense.  I believe we have a social and ethical responsibility to care for the poor even when it inconveniences our checkbooks.  I believe abortion is horrible, painful, and wrong, but women still have a legal right to make a choice based on their context and situation.  I believe that we should be less concerned about keeping people out of our country and more concerned with the reasons people are forced to flee to freedom.  I believe all people have the right to a legal marriage, regardless of who they love.  I believe that our existence is more about serving God and our community and less about our individual needs.  I don't believe Democrats have the only answer, nor do I agree with every democratic stance.  What I believe as a Christian shapes what I believe politically, not the other way around.  Your voice matters.

I'm just one voice.  I don't proclaim to be right about everything, or on most things... but I am who I am, complete with a faithful system of beliefs.  I have recently been inspired by others who are willing to stand and speak, even when it is unpopular.  I am humbled to think I might possibly resonate with others out there. I hope to be just one more voice in a long history of those who have faithfully proclaimed the Truth as they best discerned.  I hope you will join me in this conversation.  Your voice matters. 

Photo by kerry flynn 

The Darkness of Advent

As we enter into this season of Advent, we enter into a season of waiting for the expected Christ child, but often we seem to enter into a season of expectations of making this a joyous season instead.  The build up to Christmas gets bigger with every year.  We are consumed with Christmas parties, holiday shopping, cookie baking, Christmas cards, and travel plans.  We are consumed with the business of joy.

And in the midst of this, we forget about Advent.  We forget about the dark period of four weeks which lead us to the joy of Christmas.  But, isn’t this much like life?  Don’t we typically want to rush through the uncomfortable parts of life to get to the happy and joyful parts?  The truth is – we need Advent.  We need time to sit in the darkness of life.  We need to remember that Christmas isn’t just about a cute little baby born in picturesque crèche scene; it’s about a broken world in desperate need for a Savior.  A place so filled with hurt and sin that the Creator of the Universe needed to break into humanity to bring us back into relationship with Him.  

We need Advent.  We need to grieve the loss of loved ones who have left this earth during the last 12 months – who will not be with us for this first Christmas.  We need to feel sorrow for the sickness that abounds in the bodies of those we know and maybe even ourselves.  We need to experiences the emptiness of a broken relationship, a family member estranged, a divide among friends.  We need to feel the disappointment of unexpected financial situations, unfulfilling careers, and overextended commitments.  

 When we jump from Christ the King Sunday right into the season of Christmas, we do not allow ourselves the time we need to long for this coming King.  This advent season, I wish you boldness to embrace your brokenness – to sit with it and call it by name.  For by acknowledging the places where only God can enter and heal us, we acknowledge the need for a Savior.  And only then will we ever understand the true joy of Christmas.

 

Where are the skirts?

Today at the National Youth Workers Convention, I was astounded at the number of white men who were serving as leaders for the conference.  Now, I am far from a feminist, but even still I was disturbed.  There have been other years at the convention where it wasn't quite this bad, but when every speaker is male, and and entire worship band of about 10 members is all white with only one female, it doesn't settle right for me.  Even the workshops are led by mostly white males and the few females are leading workshops on spirituality and soul care.

Where is my voice being represented?  Where is the bold, strong female voice?  If my own professional organization that has grown and nurtured me through the years doesn't recognize me as a professional, how can I ever expect my church to?

I took public transportation from the airport when I arrived into town and when switching trains, I realized I was the only white person in the station.  How can a convention, being held just a mile from this station, claim to be the prophetic voice of ministry and speak to such a narrow audience?  Where is the place for women of vision?  Where is the place for people of all ethnicities?  The Church is surely more complex and beautiful than the face Youth Specialties has been portraying.  I pray organizations just as Youth Specialties begin to make intentional efforts to look and act in the ways they talk.

Photo by Fantazya Fantasies

Who is the Jesus we portray in Worship?

I’ve participated in some incredibly passionate worship services over the years, but I’ve also felt captive in the pew during many passionless services. Sadly, those passionless services seem to be the normal in many Presbyterian churches today. Hear me clearly. As a young adult, I do not need flashy graphics, a loud worship band, projected images on a screen, or a cool, hip, and stylish pastor to evoke passion in worship. Passion isn’t synonymous with loud, big, and flashy.

Who is this Jesus we are worshiping? When I sit through a passionless worship service, I truly begin to wonder. I want to worship a Creator who formed the universe with a word and molded my very being from the fibers of the earth. I long to sing praises to a God, who shouts with excitement through the joys of life and holds me tightly, with mutual tears, in the pits. I want to surrender all I am to the workings of a Holy Spirit who guides my movement in ways I never dreamed possible for myself. I want to humbly bow to the most humble of babies who changed the course of history for eternity. I want to lay offerings before a God who offered His own Son to wipe away the distance I continually place between Him and I. I want to meet this Jesus over and over again, so maybe someday I will begin to understand the magnitude of a Love so grand, so extreme, and so passionate at this.

It can come in all sizes, shapes, and volumes. I don’t care. What you do doesn’t much matter to me. But how you portray my Savior, who has molded and changed my life forever, means everything to me.

Written for www.presbymergent.org.

They still haven't found what they're looking for...

Last week, along with the rest of my Gen-X friends in the DC area, I attended the U2 concert at FedEx field.  It was an incredible experience of excellent musicianship, entertainment, and passion.  U2 is the quintessential band of my generation.  They tap into the emotions of those in their 30s and 40s like few are able to do.  Thousands gathered on a brisk Tuesday night and we were blessed by a deep and rich experience.  The night was mixed with social justice, political responsibility, human rights, and yes, God.

I get so upset when older generations peg my generation as the apathetic generation.  We supposedly don't care about anyone but ourselves and are passionless for anything that matters.  But that night, while Bono rocked it out, I was overwhelmed with the passion of my generation.  How is it that an entertainer from Ireland can understand the heart of this generation so clearly and the church can miss the mark so immensely?  Why can't the church tap into this passion in the same way?  Towards the end of the concert, Bono led us in a rousing rendition of Amazing Grace.  We sang, thousands strong, and it was beautiful.  It was more powerful than most worship services I've attended.

How do we reach a generation who longs for something more than the lives they have scripted for themselves?  I believe, this spiritual, but not religious, generation actually longs to be a part of a religious community, to be part of something greater.  But they have come to the door with their hearts on their sleeves and have found comfortable congregations. How do we reach a generation whose anthem is this:

"You broke the bonds
And you loosed the chains
Carried the cross
Of my shame
Oh my shame
You know I believe it
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for…"