Just Shine: July 2019

Paying Attention

I sometimes hang out with chemists at UCI, my husband’s colleagues.  I’m their go-to garden consultant, which just goes to show you that a little knowledge is better than none.  Recently I got to catch up with Elizabeth at a party.  She grinned enthusiastically when she saw me, and said, “Thanks for the gardening advice, it’s working great.”   Twenty minutes later she thanked me again, and told me that her new garden is thriving.
            The third time Elizabeth thanked me for helping her garden, I said, “Wow, I’m so glad I was able to help. I told you a bunch of stuff.  Which piece of gardening advice is the one that you keep raving about?”
            “Oh,” she replied. “It was that last thing you said.  You told me my plants will do well if I just pay attention to them.”

Mystics tell us that we can discover God anywhere and everywhere, if we pay attention. We can join the sacred dance. If we surrender our judgments and worries and expectations, we can begin to hear the sacred music that always surrounds us. We can faithfully follow the One who leads the dance, if we pay attention. That may be too lofty a goal for you. Maybe you just want to appreciate nature’s beauty, or live your values in hard times, or show consideration to your friends, or have a thriving garden. “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing.” We are not told how Martha responded to these words. I hope she took a deep breath, took off her apron, and sat down next to Mary, ready to pay attention.

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Brea Congregational United Church of Christ

July 21, 2019

Paying Attention

Luke 10:38-42 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. 40 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.” 41 But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; 42 there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”

Our reading today is one of the profound little stories found only in the Gospel of Luke. Luke’s stories about Jesus emphasize his compassion. Jesus is breaking boundaries of class and ethnicity, and empowering women. I treasure this particular story because it has been interpreted as God inviting women to choose scholarship and religious pursuits over housework. Over the centuries that interpretation has empowered a lot of women. But like all Gospel stories, it is open ended. It’s meant to be the beginning of a conversation. Each time we read it, it may strike us differently.

What struck me this time around was that Mary was paying attention, and Martha was not. Martha was doing good work—showing hospitality to Jesus and his twelve or so friends who had descended on her house. Thirteen young men eat a lot, and there was no takeout pizza to be had anywhere! Martha knew how to play the hostess, how to feed a crowd. She went on autopilot, falling into that familiar role of running a household and ordering her younger sister around. I can relate. What she was not doing was paying attention to Jesus, to the unique opportunity he was offering. Those disciples knew how to barbecue their own fish. By insisting on doing what didn’t fit the situation, Martha made herself miserable.

Mary was paying attention, both to her own values and to what was happening to right then. We can assume she was usually a helpful younger sister. But on this day she realized that this guest was special. He didn’t live nearby; time with him was precious. And he had a message she needed to hear. So she put aside her usual helper role, and received what was being offered to her in that special moment. Because she was paying attention.

Are we paying attention? Do we notice the special moments happening around us, and receive the gifts they hold for us? Do we listen to what the sacred might be saying to us amid the hustle and bustle of our lives? Do we pay attention to how our values intersect our everyday choices? We won’t pay attention all the time; that would be impossible. But some of the time we can slow down, because it does take time, to listen, choose how best to respond, not on autopilot or according to some fixed set of rules, but according to our values, our intuition, our best wisdom, and what is happening right now.

American Buddhists are all about paying attention. They call it mindfulness. They practice it by meditating. Mindfulness is not an end in itself. It’s a way of showing up ready to engage life on life’s terms, getting perspective, a little space from old thoughts and behaviors so that we don’t have to run on autopilot, so we can can best receive what the world has to offer us now, respond out of choice instead of habit. That’s hard work. Well, not hard, exactly, but relentless. You can’t get mindful and stay mindful; you’ve got to do it over and over again. Christians know about paying attention too. We might call it prayer from the heart, or being spirit-led, or seeing God in all things, or following the lure of God.

Paying attention. Knowing about it and doing it are two different things. I have been trying to paying attention for about a month now. Every day I set my intention to pay attention. For at least some small part of the day I actually succeed. Which is fabulous, because my other option is not paying attention at all. And I’m learning so much!

I journal, and that helps me pay attention. For instance, I’ve been paying attention to the value of consideration, and noticing the times I’ve treated people poorly, or at least some of them. Someday I hope to notice this real time. But in the meantime, by noticing, I can clean up my messes after the fact.

I pay attention to social issues. I do research, to try to figure out what’s really going on. That’s hard emotional work. I pay attention to my feelings, give myself space to grieve.

Sometimes I actually pay attention in conversations, to what the other person is saying, instead of what I’m thinking about what they’re saying. Paying attention is what makes relationships work. Actually seeing the other person with their feelings, hopes, longings, fears, instead of our projection onto them who we think they are, or should be. We say of children, “She just wants attention.” Of course. Children needattention, like they need food and water; without it they can’t thrive. Attention is a gift we give to one another.

I’ve also tried a new kind of paying attention: just tuning into my senses and taking things in. I think the Buddhists call this Vipassana. I have no idea if I’m doing it right, but it’s fascinating. I scan the road during my commute to Irvine, just seeing what my senses take in, instead of playing podcasts. The light and shadow, the texture of the asphalt, the weeds in the cracks, things I’ve never noticed before. Paying attention while driving, what a concept. It might help me live longer.

Paying attention that way in my garden and on nature walks has been mind blowing. It’s like opening a book and finding pop-outs, so much is there that I don’t usually notice. The flowers seem to dial up in color till they’re fluorescent.

I’m also trying to notice when I don’t pay attention at all, when I tune out. Binge-watching Netflix, sitting down at my computer and coming back to myself a half hour later not having done the thing I sat down to do, that kind of thing. Am I resting and getting refreshed? Or am I getting stiff and preoccupied and anxious? Do I want to chill for a bit? Or am I just on autopilot? Am I hiding from something I don’t want to face, I don’t want to feel? It’s funny how just noticing that I’m hiding brings some relief, and eventually I get brave enough to face that thing I’m hiding from.

Psychologists tell us that we live in an age of fragmented attention. “Look! Shiny!” Computers, video games, social media, ads, news that shocks and panders… all these things grab at our attention. They will control us if we don’t control them. I have no idea how to fix this even in my own life, perhaps especially in my own life. But I’ve started to pay attention to it happening. And the more I actually pay attention, the more likely I am to catch myself before a half hour has gone by.

An important part of paying attention is watching my judgments of myself for not “doing it better,” how they can make me want to give up the whole project. I can go there. Or I can choose to just start paying attention again. Or I can take a break. Either way, I let go of judging my performance for a little while. What a relief. So here’s a thing I’m learning. If I’m judging, labeling, shoulding… anyone or anything, I’m not paying attention.

You know that person who’s always right? Who can rationalize what they believe despite the facts? They’re not paying attention to what you’re saying, or to any new information that doesn’t fit into their already existing system of thought. In order to learn anything new, we have to really pay attention, make space in our brains for new input that might challenge our old ideas. Things change. People change. If we want to live in the present instead of the past or our own fantasy, we have to pay attention.

It takes time. Children often do it naturally, but most of us adults have to deliberately step out of busyness and demands and worry and distraction. Poor Martha didn’t do that. In my experience the busier we get, the less useful we are. Taking time and pausing, we have a better chance to notice that one thing that is needed right now.

You give your pastors two weeks a year for study leave. That’s smart of you. I’m going on a week-long study leave, starting Saturday. “Mindful Relational Leadership.” It’s taught by a Buddhist climate activist. I’ll be practicing paying attention with the pros. I hope I’ll find some like-minded people to ponder this special moment in history, to pay attention together to hard truths and learn from each other how we might respond. I’ll also get to face all the judgments I have about my ability to meditate, or lack thereof, and about Buddhist theology being dished up as self-evident truth.

Paying attention to my reactions: annoyance, judgment, anxiety, the occasional manic excitement…that’s part of the deal. Because when I notice my reactions, I see the habitual thinking that may be preventing me from paying attention. I can choose to think and act differently, if only for that moment.

Learning to Be Neighborly

Some of us have perfectionist tendencies. We like to do things right the first time. We like to complete the project on time, over spec, under budget, and get the gold star. I think Jesus asks something different of us. Give me your whole heart, he says, and keep moving toward a way of living and loving that you may never arrive at in this life. Recognize how broken this world is, and how you participate in that brokenness whether you intend to or not. Then bring your broken heart to God, and God will attend to it. And if we are willing, yes, Jesus has some big jobs for you. We will not do those jobs perfectly. He only asks that we do them faithfully.

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Brea Congregational United Church of Christ

July 14, 2019

Learning to be Neighborly

Luke 10:25-37 On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

26 “What is written in the Law?” he replied. “How do you read it?”

27 He answered: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’”

28 “You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. “Do this and you will live.”

29 But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

30 In reply Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he fell into the hands of robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. 31 A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. 32 So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33 But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. 34 He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, took him to an inn and took care of him. 35 The next day he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’

36 “Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?”

37 The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.”

Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”

I love watching the different ways Jesus interacts with people in the Gospels.

Consider those who judge, who are busy telling other people how to lead their lives, and the rules they should follow. How does Jesus treat them? Not well! He has no patience for that kind of behavior. “Woe to you hypocrites!” Good reminder that it’s not our business to judge; we don’t need to tell other people how to be faithful.

Jesus acts another way toward those people who think they’re doing a pretty good job being religious and come to him, asking, well, how am I doing? I have my ticket to heaven because I’ve done all the right things, don’t I? Or do I need to check a few more boxes? The questioner in today’s story and the rich young ruler are in this category. To them Jesus says: You think you’re righteous? No, one more thing you have to do. And it’s a big one. To the rich young ruler: give away everything you own and follow me. And to the man in today’s reading: give care at great personal cost to someone you’re expected to hate. So if you think you are “justified,” you are doing everything right in your Christian walk, don’t tell Jesus about it. He’ll make sure to assign you something above and beyond.

Jesus acts a third way toward those people who approach him with humility, longing to be close to him, knowing their flaws, knowing that they need mercy and love in order to be right with God. Every time Jesus encounters such a person, his response is to reach out to them, forgive them, love them. Ah, humility. Maybe this is the approach we should try.

I found a little quiz on Facebook a while back. “How well do you follow Jesus?” The questions were very biblical, things like: Have you visited any prisoners lately? Do you eat with tax collectors and sinners? Do you love God with your whole heart, and mind and soul, and strength, and your neighbor as yourself? I didn’t complete the whole quiz. I got too discouraged about how poorly I was doing. Later that day I remembered: humility! Maybe that quiz had put me just where Jesus wants me.

In this parable, the obvious big job is to love: to show love to neighbor in a practical and extravagant way. Go beyond feeling loving feelings. Go beyond writing a check to a charity. Goout of your wayto help someone who needs help. Take a risk– stopping on the dangerous Jerusalem-Jericho road was a real risk. An injured man on the side of the road could have been a decoy: a trap set by bandits. People who really need help are often in risky situations, situations that we hesitate to step into ourselves. And they could be scamming you. Our hesitation is sensible. The Gospel: not so sensible. The parable invites us to give extravagantly: that Samaritan gave care with his own hands, he took a detour to a safe resting place, he took money out of his pocket for the injured man’s board and care.

To go out of our way to help a neighbor is the obvious big job in this parable. There is a less obvious big job. That is to love a neighbor whom we are expected to hate or avoid. Jews versus Samaritans, a brief summary: six hundred years before Jesus’ time they were the same people, with the same religion. When the nation was conquered, the upper class were deported to Babylon and became Jews. Those left behind, the poorest city folk and the subsistence farmers, became the Samaritans. Their religions were so similar that you and I probably would have trouble telling the difference, but Jews and Samaritans managed to detest each other anyway. Each could refer to conflicts in the recent past as proof of the untrustworthiness of the other. On a good day they just stayed out of each others’ way.

Jews and Samaritans, neighbors in conflict, an old, familiar story. As Christians, we follow a Teacher who told us to love enemies, to forgive, but that hasn’t kept us free of war or injustice or prejudice. Imagine how it grieves Jesus, what some of his followers have done.

Drawing lines between “us and “them” has always been a convenient way to unite “us” by scapegoating and demonizing “them.” Our faith allows us no such lines. Right now immigrants and refugees are the “them” who are victims of government policies designed to create fear and to dehumanize. In recent weeks, we have received reliable reports of immigrants and refugees, including innocent children, being held by our government under conditions not fit for the worst criminal, conditions that can be argued to be concentration camps, conditions of hunger, filth, neglect, contagion and untreated illness, lack of sleep, conditions that will scar children for life, that have already killed children. How can our government commit such atrocities? Unfortunately it’s easy. Follow orders. Act in secrecy. But most effectively, do not see the people being harmed as people. Demonize them. See them as other, not like us, a threat and a liability. It’s easy to do this; we humans are wired for it. And our faith teaches us never to let that happen.

Who is my neighbor? The immigrant our government put in a cage. We have a voice; they do not. We have resources; they do not. We can vote; they cannot. So… a bunch of us were at the Lights for Liberty candlelight vigil this past Friday, and that is a beginning. Your Council will be exploring more opportunities to advocate for immigrants and refugees.

Witnessing these horrific actions toward immigrants is hard emotional work. Not only is the human toll painful to witness, but the cognitive dissonance, the gap between our nation’s stated values of liberty and justice and this inexcusable reality, this shakes our very identity. It is so much easier to look away, to pretend it’s not happening. Or to find some excuse why it’s excusable, it’s not that bad. It’s that bad. I thank you for having the courage to face this very painful moral issue.

This a time of soul-searching, searching for the soul of our nation that is threatened by cruelty and hatred. Let me suggest that we at Brea Congregational roll up our sleeves and get personal. Raise your hand if you personally know a refugee waiting to learn whether they will be deported. Do you know a person who doesn’t have papers to be here legally? How about a Dreamer, a DACA recipient? Maybe we need to get to know these people, hear their struggles, befriend them, make real investments in their freedom and their livelihoods. That’s a big job. That’s what a Good Samaritan would do.

Immigrants do have Good Samaritans here in Orange County. Friends of Orange County Detainees was founded in 2012 by some white church ladies at Tapestry Unitarian Universalist Church in Lake Forest. The Friends are about 75 volunteers who have been visiting immigrants and refugees in detention while they wait the months or sometimes years for their cases to be resolved. Some of these detainees hadn’t ever had a visitor and wondered if anyone even knew they were still alive. Sometimes volunteers speak the language, be it Spanish, French or Haitian Creole. Sometimes they use a phone app and fake it. These Friends contact families back home and let them know the refugee is still alive.

Immigrants and refugees seeking asylum are not criminals, so while they can be detained indefinitely, they are not entitled to legal representation. If they have representation, odds are in their favor to win their case. If they don’t have it, they are almost always deported. Friends help them find legal representation. Sometimes they pay their bail. And when detainees are released, they give them food and clothes, a bus ticket to relatives, or help finding a shelter. And followup. Help finding school, and jobs. Some of those detainees are transgender. Relatives wouldn’t take them in. Nor would shelters. So one of the Friends opened her home to them. She has temporarily housed twelve transgender women by now, and one of them has claimed her as an adopted mother.

My neighbor Betty is a Friend. It’s through her that our warm clothes found their way to detainees last Christmas. Betty pays detainees’ bail out of her personal budget. She also hits up our neighborhood email list, so now I’ve paid bail too. Betty is retired, but not retired, if you know what I mean. She is frequently gone for weeks at a time, staffing a shelter in Tijuana housing Haitian families waiting to claim asylum.

Talking to these detainees, Betty hears about the horrors they left behind. Death threats from crooked politicians; the people already murdered. The harrowing route to our border, the family members who died along the way. Spoiled food in jail. Loneliness and despair. And gratitude that somebody cared.

Orange County is getting out of the immigrant detention business. The last immigrants will be gone from Theo Lacy jail in a few days, relocated to the largest private detention facility in America, Adelanto, in the high desert northwest of Victorville. Despite Adelanto’s fearsome reputation, visitors are hearing from immigrants that they’re being treated better there than in Orange County. But they are more isolated. Friends are wondering what they can do now. And so are we.

Our religion does not ask of us success or perfection. God knows our society is very broken. We are asked to step up in the middle of brokenness, not to fix things beyond our lower to fix, but to witness to the love and justice of God, to show we care. It may break our hearts. It may break our hearts wide open, to contain more love than we knew was possible. May God guide us to reach out to make the other a friend. Amen.

Living, and Speaking, the Message

There is a story about one of the founders of Alcoholics Anonymous, Bill Wilson. After years and years of trying to get sober on his own and failing, he had some kind spiritual awakening that allowed him to stay sober, barely… and he was so excited, he wanted to share it with every other drunk, so they could all be cured. He went to hospitals and found lost-cause drunks and preached his cure to them. After some months, he had not one success. He despaired of this mission to his long-suffering wife Lois. “This isn’t working. Not a single one of the guys I’m trying to help has stayed sober.” Lois replied, “It is working. One of them is sober. You.”

Being successful is not the point. The point is speaking and living your truth, your hope, from God and for God. If someone else gets it, more power to you. You may never even know that someone got it. You’ll get it, if you keep seeking to live the message of God’s presence and love and power in our world. May you preach the Good News in your own unique way. And sometimes, use words.

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Brea Congregational United Church of Christ

July 7, 2019

What Message?

Luke 10:1-11, 16-20 After this the Lord appointed seventy others and sent them on ahead of him in pairs to every town and place where he himself intended to go. 2 He said to them, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest. 3 Go on your way. See, I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves. 4 Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals; and greet no one on the road. 5 Whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace to this house!’ 6And if anyone is there who shares in peace, your peace will rest on that person; but if not, it will return to you. 7 Remain in the same house, eating and drinking whatever they provide, for the laborer deserves to be paid. Do not move about from house to house. 8 Whenever you enter a town and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you; 9 cure the sick who are there, and say to them, ‘The kingdom of God has come near to you.’ 10 But when you enter a town and you are not made welcome, go out into its streets and say, 11 “The very dust of your town that clings to our feet we wipe off to your shame. Only take note of this: the kingdom of God has come.”

16 “Whoever listens to you listens to me, and whoever rejects you rejects me, and whoever rejects me rejects the one who sent me.”

17 The seventy returned with joy, saying, “Lord, in your name even the demons submit to us!” 18 He said to them, “I watched Satan fall from heaven like a flash of lightning. 19 See, I have given you authority to tread on snakes and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy; and nothing will hurt you. 20 Nevertheless, do not rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”

There is an old argument in Christian circles about preaching the Gospel versus living the Gospel. Both are important, and both are challenging. So I have my eye on how Jesus instructed these first preachers out on the road: how were they supposed to live the message they brought?

See, I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves. Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals… No personal firearms. No pepper spray. Be vulnerable. On purpose. Take risks to share the Good News.

and greet no one on the road. Don’t get distracted. You’re on a mission.

Whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace to this house!’ And if anyone is there who shares in peace, your peace will rest on that person; but if not, it will return to you.That’s different. As if peace was an active force that could be given or taken away. Maybe it is.

Remain in the same house, eating and drinking whatever they provide. Do work on behalf of your host. Be humble. Accept your room and board.

Do not move about from house to house. Your host will get to know you, warts and all. Build relationships; make them work, don’t run away when things get hard.

Whenever you enter a town and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you; He’s talking about Jewish Kosher food laws: don’t be fussy. Don’t argue about details of religious observances.

Care for the sick who are there, and say to them, ‘The kingdom of God has come near to you.’ So that’s what the message is: “the Kingdom of God is near you.” And that message is lived by caring for sick people, valuing them, bringing them hope and love.

In the synoptic Gospels, the message is not, “Believe and be saved.” It is “The Kingdom of God is near.” Time to live our lives as if God is real, and making a difference in our world. What kind of God? That’san important question. If it’s a God who only comforts you and never challenges you… you obviously haven’t read the Gospels. If it’s a God that burns people in hell forever… no thanks. If it’s a God that always agrees with you? Or sides with the people in power against the powerless…call me skeptical.

Humility is in order when we start talking about the gospel and the God who invites us to share it. We need to tread carefully. And some things we can affirm. Our God is not interested in defending borders; our holy book keeps demanding that we treat strangers, foreigners and immigrants like citizens and as neighbors. Our God cares for all children, perhaps especially when their skin is brown and they walk fifteen hundred miles to find safety. Our God demands of us peace when violence seems the only answer. Our God judges us for how we love, not who we love.

So what kind of God does your life preach? At this church I hear your actions preaching that God cares for the earth, and the creatures on it. I hear your actions preaching that God cares for all people, especially those excluded by other churches, and those excluded by our white culture and our society’s worship of money. We preach it on the street sign and I preach it on Sunday morning. And then we try to live it.

If you grieve that you don’t live the gospel as well as you’d like, you’re in good company. If your heart is breaking for how far we are right now from the Kingdom of God, mine too. We don’t have to know how to fix things. We can speak up about how we should treat people, all people, and then try to live into that. We have a voice, thanks to our Constitution. We can ease suffering, offer dignity. We can tell people that we do what we do because of our love of God. Jesus never asked us to bring about the Kingdom of God, just to allow it to start working in us and through us. To live the message, in the midst of a real and broken world, and to share the message.

Francis of Assisi was a lover of animals, a rebuilder of churches and a powerful lay preacher. Francis founded a renewal movement in Christianity that emphasized equality, whole-heartedness, and love of nature. He was reported to have said, “Preach the Gospel at all times. When necessary, use words.” It turns out that’s not exactly what he said, but you get the idea. Francis himself preached often, but his actions made real the gospel he preached, showed people the kind of God he wanted them to know.

Francis loved to rebuild churches, because in a vision he heard God say to him, “rebuild my church.” God was probably speaking metaphorically about the church’s integrity and sense of purpose rather than the actual brick and mortar, but Francis attended to both. He had been a spoiled rich kid, but as a preacher, he wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty for God.

Francis made all the members of his order take a vow of poverty, because he grew up in a household and a culture where money was power and he know how money distracted and corrupted and alienated people, especially those most in need of Good News.

Despite his penchant for repairing churches, Francis loved preaching out-of-doors, in nature, where passers-by could gather and listen. People who might never go to church. People too poor, or too wounded, or too cynical to ever willingly step inside a sanctuary: Francis brought the message to them. And in his open-hearted words, many of them they found God.

Francis was a preacher, and most of you are not. I know you try to live the message, and you’ve hired me to preach it. But in your own way, you too need to speak a word now and then, to say how you do what you do, and why you do it. We can be grateful that we are free to use our voices to speak about our faith, and to speak as witness for those who have no voice. You don’t have to be eloquent. Just let people know that you have a message inside you that you are trying to live.

Someone who was formative in my upbringing mentioned a few months back that she prayed about something. “Oh, do you pray much?” I asked. “Oh yes, all the time,” she said. I never knew. The whole time I was growing up, I heard her say grace at meals, rote prayers on Sunday, nothing more. I wonder if I would have grown up differently if I had known that she was praying all the time. I wonder what I preached (or didn’t preach) to my own son.

When I go to a rally I wear my minister’s collar with the revealing white tab. People know I am there because of my faith. I preach without words. You will have to use words. They can be simple words. “What would Jesus do?” Or clever words. “Jesus, save me from your followers.” If you’re doing what you’re called to do and you say why, your words will be profound.

What happens when you preach and live your message? Not usually the fabulous success that we hear in this reading. The disciples return and they’re high-fiving each other, and Jesus is using a little exaggeration when he talks about seeing Satan fall from heaven. Maybe he saw a shooting star…. Such a successful message! I wish Luke had omitted that part, because it puts the emphasis on the success, instead of the message.

Call and Response

In the gospels, Jesus repeatedly calls people to follow him. In case it wasn’t obvious, that call is meant for each of us. Christianity is not a spectator sport, and it’s not one-size-fits-all. We are invited to follow the teachings of Jesus, however imperfectly. And more: the sacred is big enough, and complex enough, to intersect with each of our lives, to invite each of us on a unique journey of learning and service. And we each respond, imperfectly, in a unique way.

Your call may be one thing, or many. It may look religious. It may be to do your day job with heart and skill, or to care for your family, or to carry a certain quality of presence with you wherever you go. It may be for some personal passion or form of service. Sometimes our call is an inside job, not to do anything new, but to do what we’d be doing anyway but with more gratitude and openheartedness and attention and caring… all those ways of being that bless us and those around us. Maybe everybody has that call. Our call can change over time; it can change day to day.

I trust that the sacred is also calling people who do not understand themselves as Christians. Some are answering that call, and some not so much, just like we who call ourselves Christians. Some calls are showy and public. Some are simple and down to earth, and no less important. A call is a gift from God, as well as a challenge. Responding to the lure of the sacred gives our lives meaning and purpose.

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Brea Congregational United Church of Christ

June 30, 2019

Call and Response

Luke 9:49-62 John answered, “Master, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he does not follow with us.” 50 But Jesus said to him, “Do not stop him; for whoever is not against you is for you.”

9:51 When the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem. 52 And he sent messengers ahead of him. On their way they entered a village of the Samaritans to make ready for him; 53 but they did not receive him, because his face was set toward Jerusalem. 54 When his disciples James and John saw it, they said, “Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” 55 But he turned and rebuked them. 56 Then they went on to another village.

57 As they were going along the road, someone said to him, “I will follow you wherever you go.” 58 And Jesus said to him, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” 59 To another he said, “Follow me.” But he said, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.” 60 But Jesus said to him, “Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” 61 Another said, “I will follow you, Lord; but let me first say farewell to those at my home.” 62 Jesus said to him, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”

One of the ways Christians have messed up this simple and powerful idea of call is to believe that only professional religious people have calls, priests or pastors or missionaries. I understand why it happened. Calls from God available to the rank and file? We can make mistakes in judgment about what we are called to do. More to the point, our call may challenge authorities, religious or civil, who have a bigger investment in their own power and in business as usual than in the flow of the Spirit breaking within us, among us, bringing life and hope. Our Congregational form of government is founded on the understanding that God is still speaking, and God can speak to any one of us a word that all of us need to hear.

You’ve heard me talk about this idea of call before. Who has a pretty good sense of what they might be called to do and be at this season of their life? That’s a big question, right? I’m actually in a period of discernment right now myself.

Do you wantto have a call? It seems like a big responsibility. Let me rephrase that. Do you want to acknowledge your call? I think life goes better when we do. If you’re not sure what your call is yet, your call is to listen for your call, to explore. If you’re pretty sure you know what your call is, you will still want to listen, to stay on track.

It’s a lot easier for God to get through to us when we make time to listen. We might listen through prayer and meditation, by reading scriptures and devotions, not for “the anser” but as a starting point for reflection. Taking walks in nature, conversations with wise people and soul friends, and more.

If your call seems odd or risky, it’s essential to talk it over with someone. It’s always helpful to talk over your understanding of your call. Saying it out loud helps make it real. Do you have someone who will listen when you talk through your call? Add me to your list; I’d love to reflect with you.

In today’s reading Jesus gives us five challenging one-liners about call. Let’s explore them. Jesus has “set his face to go to Jerusalem.” He’s on his final mission. He’s talking to people in his hometown who are sort of already following him. He’s challenging them to leave home on short notice on an unknown and scary journey.

Whoever is not against you is for you. The disciples wanted to stop someone who was healing in Jesus’ name because he wasn’t in their club. We have so many religious groups in Orange County that we couldn’t possibly keep track of them all. Still sometimes we can’t help judging other religious people. Whoever is not against you is for you. If they are doing the work, they are on the same team, despite their differences in beliefs or rules. I want to judge certain churches for their failures. And if my church was perfect, I might be justified. Why not celebrate our common ground instead? Maybe we can build a bridge to heal some differences.

And when we meet hostility? Lord do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them? But Jesus turned and rebuked them. The disciples are got a little full of themselves there. Here is a principle from Jesus that, if we could implement it broadly, would transform our world. We don’t get to attack or punish people who harm or offend us. The more passionate we are about our call, the more likely we are to be jerks about it. We have to be careful about even defending. What we think is defense is usually experienced by the other as attack. Peace begins when threats and keeping score end. And Jesus invites us to end them.

These first two sayings remind us that whatever our call, we are probably not the only ones doing it, there is probably not one right way to do it, somebody will probably think we shouldn’t do it, and we don’t get to harass the people who think we shouldn’t do it. For instance, not every church is called to be socially active, and that’s OK. I’m glad I’m here.

“Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head. This is a warning about where these particular disciples were being called. To Jerusalem, to witness Jesus’ death, to wait in vigil as they wondered what would come next, and with the help of the Spirit, to become the early Church, in Jerusalem or on the road, all over the Roman empire, far from their homes. The Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head… Luke must have really identified with this saying, because Luke gave up his own home to go on the road with the first apostles.

“Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” Harsh, right? Well, Jesus was on a schedule. Passover was the following week. Also, “let me bury my father” may not have meant the man’s father was even dead yet. It could mean the man was committing to serve and care for his frail father until his death, who knew when. That is compassionate action. It is faithfully following the fifth commandment, “Honor your father and your mother.” This man has chosen a worthy mission, but not the mission for which he was actually needed at that time.

The final saying:“No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”Again this sounds harsh, but maybe a more contemporary image will help us understand. Nobody who drives with her eyes glued to the rear view mirror is going to arrive at her destination safely. Perhaps Jesus knew that saying goodbye to family and friends would mean getting guilted into staying home. I’m sure nothing like that has ever happened to any of us.

These last couple sayings, harsh as they are, remind us that we can’t move forward into God’s future if we are unwilling to give up the past, the familiar. The ironic thing is the familiar can be very unpleasant and sometimes we still cling to it for dear life. There are so many excuses why we can’t answer our call right now.

There was a newly retired man who felt dry. His life needed spice, adventure, something. So he decided to he should try something new. His neighbor heard his plan and invited him on a deep sea fishing trip out beyond Catalina Island. But when he did the math, to be out at San Pedro harbor by six am, the man realized that he’d have to wake up at four am. He wasn’t going wake up at four am. So no fishing.

A note came in his email from the city parks and rec department that there was a dance in the park that Saturday. He used to love dancing. But he didn’t want to go to a dance without a partner, and he was embarrassed to ask anyone. Anyway, he wasn’t sure what kind of dancing it was going to be. So no dancing.

His church was signing up crews to go to downtown Fullerton to cook and serve meals for the homeless. That would be a great service activity. But he wasn’t sure about hanging out around homeless people. He could imagine they might have some health or safety issues he’d rather avoid. So no serving meals.

His sister in Pasadena invited him to meet her in downtown LA to see an art exhibit. It had been a while since he’d been to downtown L.A. Traffic was always a nightmare. And parking cost a fortune. Going to L.A. was just a great big hassle. He really didn’t want to bother. So no art exhibit.

He watched out his living room window as the neighbor boys tried to figure out how to throw a football to each other. They really needed some coaching. He started to get off the sofa, but then he thought better of it. Who was he to walk out the door and volunteer to teach them? If they didn’t just dismiss him, they might start knocking on his door asking him to come help them any time. So no football.

Eventually, the man did what he always did, got a bag of chips and flipped through the TV listings looking for a crime show he could watch. There just wasn’t anything else to do.

God is still speaking, in fact God is inviting you to your next adventure. Or possibly to clean up your last one. In any case, the invitation is whispered more often than it is shouted. Our job is to pay attention, be willing to try something different, or possibly to try one more time to do something we always do, in a different way. In this call and response is life and learning and service and joy. May you keep responding. Amen.

Pages

Paying Attention

Learning to Be Neighborly

Living, and Speaking, the Message

Call and Response