Funeral Sermon for The Rev. Robert J. Wennerstrom

Funeral Sermon for The Rev. Robert J. Wennerstrom

The Lutheran Church of the Incarnate Word

Rochester, NY

September 19, 2015

John 10:11

The Rev. Douglas L. Stewart

“Care for God’s people, bear their burdens…Witness faithfully in word and deed to all people.  Be of good courage, for God has called you, and your labor in the Lord is not in vain”. 

Words spoken to the newly ordained as they rise from their knees to their feet for the very first time with this newly placed stole draped around the shoulders…

Words spoken to those who have answered the call to care for God’s people; To Shepherd God’s flock…

Words spoken on that “hot and steamy” night at St.  Paul’s Lutheran Church in New Orleans – July 11^th, 1954…

That night when the Church of Jesus Christ became abundantly richer and immensely blessed with the ordination to Word and Sacrament of Robert Joseph Wennerstrom…

“Care for God’s people, bear their burdens… Witness faithfully in word and deed to all people.”  

Not simply words for Bob, but a way of life.  One need not look far to see that.  Japan, the Philippines, New Orleans, Rome (NY), Pittsburgh, and Rochester:  All places where this faithful pastor, patient teacher, and wise counselor with the heart of a shepherd, embodied the Truth he proclaimed:  That God’s Word has become flesh and dwells among us.

After 18 years of parish ministry…

18 years of preaching, teaching, baptizing, marrying, burying, visiting the sick, praying for God’s people, nourishing them with the Word and Holy Sacraments, and leading by his own example in faithful service and holy living, I suppose Bob could have begun to coast his way toward an easier, more prestigious position in the church –  But not Bob.

After 18 years of parish ministry, Bob felt the call to expand the role of parish pastor to encompass life beyond the boundaries of a building or a single congregation. 

After just 5 years at St. Matthew’s Church in Rochester, Bob’s proclamation of the gospel extended into the surrounding city neighborhood – a neighborhood still bearing the wounds of poverty, racism, and violence inflicted by race riots just a few years earlier. 

Whether it be the formation of Group 14621, a grassroots community association dedicated to revitalizing one of the poorest neighborhoods in Rochester, or

His helping organize volunteers to go door to door in the community to speak with the elderly about medical issues, landlord problems, lack of funds for heat, electricity, or food or

His initiating JET Enterprises to help the poorest of the poor to develop basic job skills necessary to succeed in the workplace, with the heart of a shepherd, Bob embodied the Truth he proclaimed, That God’s Word has become flesh and dwells among us.

As if that were not enough, Bob found an abandoned bakery on Joseph Avenue where he started Community Lutheran Ministry:  A Christ-centered community offering after-school programs, tutoring, summer day camps, breakfast and lunch programs, emergency food, clothing and furniture for those in need, as well as offering programs of job preparation for neighborhood teens.

There he stayed for another 18 years with the heart of a shepherd, embodying the truth he proclaimed, that God’s Word has become flesh and dwells among us.

Surely after 36 years of ordained ministry, one might imagine counting down the days until retirement.  But not Bob. 

Not only did Bob take on the role of Visitation Pastor here at Incarnate Word,

but he fostered a relationship between this congregation and Joanne Peterson, in which we became partners in providing much needed health care workers to the most impoverished communities in the Dominican Republic…  

A relationship that thrives to this day as evidenced by our youth group who travelled there just a couple of years ago.

Surely this would be enough to do, but not for Bob.

Recognizing the pastoral care needs of an aging congregation, Bob helped train and support a cadre of Christian Caregivers here at Incarnate Word while at the same time providing weekly pastoral care to the seniors of our Wellness Center.  And in all of this, with the heart of a shepherd, Bob embodied the truth he proclaimed:  That God’s Word has become flesh and dwells among us.

My first encounter with Bob took place just over a decade ago, not long after Pastor Joanne and I began our ministry here.   When I first met Bob he was getting together every week with a couple who wanted to learn more about Jesus.  And so week after week, Bob took the time to read and study the gospel of Mark with them, fashioning good and faithful disciples.

There are folks in our pews today who are actively involved in the outreach missions of our congregation because Bob invited them to join him on an incredible journey of faith and discipleship.  With the heart of a shepherd, Bob embodied the truth he proclaimed:  That God’s Word has become flesh and dwells among us.

But Pastor Bob was not just ‘pastor’.  Pastor Bob was also “devoted husband”, “loving father”, “doting grandfather”, and “faithful friend” impacting lives in profound ways.  We already heard a bit of that this morning from two of his grandchildren, Catherine and Matthew, as well as from his long-time friend, Joanne Peterson, as they shared with us the depth of his inspiration in their lives.

Right about now, having reflected upon so many of Bob’s accomplishments, it would be easy to wrap up this sermon with the words “well done, good and faithful servant”;  Words that I am certain God has spoken and continues to speak to Bob now. 

But we all know that if Bob was sitting in a pew right here, right now, he would be waiting with bated breath to hear something more from this pulpit:

He would be anxiously waiting to hear about the Cross of Christ:  That place where Christ took on our death in exchange for His life: 

That grace event, described by Dietrich Bonhoeffer as the time in which “God did not reckon his Son too dear a price to pay for our life, but delivered him up for us.”

Or as Jesus himself once put it, “I am the good shepherd.  The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep”.

“Care for God’s people, bear their burdens… Witness faithfully in word and deed to all people.”  

Bob did not need a bishop’s admonition to do this.  This was Bob’s life.  A life lived in response to an event that happened to him on April 13^th, 1930 at Faith Lutheran Church in Los Angeles, California. 

On that day the God of Jesus Christ, the crucified and risen Word made flesh, named and claimed Bob as His own in the waters of Baptism.

There in the splashing wetness of that day, promises came cascading down upon a 3 year old boy that he would always live in the light of God’s forgiveness equipped with the promise of eternal life.

There in those swirling waters of baptismal grace came God’s first directive for Bob:  “Because I have delivered you through the cross and empty tomb of my son, Let your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and glorify your Father who is in heaven”.  And Bob did.  He let that baptismal light shine.  From Japan to the Dominican Republic and all points in-between.

For the past couple of years, we have seen Bob’s health steadily decline: Slowly at first, and more rapidly toward the end.  In that time we experienced great sadness as his recognition of us continued to diminish.  But at his bedside right up until the very last moment of his life, hung that beautiful banner reminding all who would see it of God’s great news:  Of God’s final sentence in the book of Bob’s life and ours:  “I have called you by name – you are mine”.

These were not simply words on a banner to Bob.  They were his life. 

In these words, Bob knew a God whose love for him was poured out on a cross.

In these words, Bob knew a God, who in the best and the worst of times, would always be with him.

So I guess I should not be terribly surprised that at the conclusion of our playing a recording for Bob in which a dear organist friend of his was playing the hymn, “Abide With Me”; Bob breathed his lastas the final chord of the hymn was played, 

In the final moments of Bob’s life on earth here are the words he heard: The words that, given the timing of things, clearly became his prayer.  His prayer to the God who loved him – His prayer to the God he loved.

 “Hold thou thy cross before my closing eyes, shine through the gloom and point me to the skies; heaven’s morning breaks, and earth’s vain shadows flee; in life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.”

I close this morning with one more prayer:  Not just any prayer, but a prayer, a gift offered by Bob for his family, (Always the pastor).  A prayer he shared with Joel 6 years ago in an e-mail:

“God, I thank you for Doris, for her faith, her love, her wisdom.  I pray for Ann, Catherine, Matthew, Elizabeth, Carol, Curt, Sarah, Adam, Joel.  Ground them in faith that they are redeemed, not with silver or gold, but with your holy precious blood and innocent suffering and death, that they may be your own, live under you in your kingdom and serve you in righteousness and blessedness and resurrection certainty.  Sustain their health, guide them in their work, and bless their friendships.
 

With many, many prayers and much love, Dad”.

Robert Joseph Wennerstrom, child of God – I have called you by name – you are mine: well done good and faithful servant.

Even the Crumbs of Faith...

“Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs” (Mark 7:28).

Words spoken by a mom whose daughter is sick and who has just been told by Jesus to go away.  Yeah that’s right, to go away.  No sugar coating here.  In fact, Jesus calls both she and her daughter “dogs”; a cultural slur on a par with the “n-word” today.

If you were in church this past Sunday you may recall that in my sermon I made mention of Jesus’ racial slur, but I also spoke of Jesus’ mind being changed by a mom who wouldn’t take “no” for an answer; by a mom whose tenacious love for her daughter would stop at nothing for healing.  Like the prodigal dad who sells the farm to throw a feast for his wayward son’s homecoming, this mom refuses to give up on grace.  And so Jesus’ mind is changed. God’s mind has been changed before; just look at Genesis, Exodus, Numbers, and Jonah to see that.  In fact, Jesus’ mind is SO changed by this woman that from that point on in Mark’s gospel, Jesus goes to the most “gentil-ist” places ever:  To Sidon and the Decapolis – you know, those mini Roman cities.  It doesn’t get any more outsider than that.  Clearly this story is illustrative of our call to radical inclusivity.  But as I reflect further on this story, it seems I missed a point on Sunday.

Not only is this a narrative about breaking down barriers that divide, but it is also a story of abundance and this outsider’s recognition of it.  It appears that this desperate mom who is at the end of her rope recognizes a certain abundance in the things that Jesus is up to.  It’s almost as if she’s saying to the “insiders” who get to eat at the table, “Go ahead eat all you want.  But what if your table cannot contain all the food that Jesus brings?  What if there are leftovers like the time he fed 5,000?  What if there are so many leftovers that the excess food just starts spilling to the floor?  If so, I’ll be there on my hands and knees gathering up the crumbs because even the crumbs will do the job”.

Sometimes it takes an outsider, someone with “fresh” eyes to see the most obvious things we miss.  Here, a desperate mom not only recognizes, but bears witness to the abundance of Jesus.  No proper doctrine articulated just a mom, her tenacious love for her daughter, and some crazy-ass trust that Jesus is all about healing and abundance.  Is there a lesson here for us?  Sitting in a sanctuary which is emptier today than 20 years ago, is it possible that all we see are crumbs of scarcity when in reality there is abundance in our midst?  Maybe we need this desperate mom to show us what it means to cling to Jesus trusting that he will do what he says he came to do. 

I don’t know about you, but I’m going to look for her this Sunday, in fact I’m going to look for her every Sunday.  I’m sure she’s been here before and I know she’ll be here again clinging to each and every crumb of good news that she hears; fiercely convinced that even a crumb will heal.

Peace and Love,

Pastor Doug

Pharisees and Green Monsters, Oh My...

Let me begin with this disclaimer; I’m a huge Boston Red Sox fan and have been my entire life, even following their Triple A farm team, the Pawtucket Red Sox, since I was seven.  (Sorry Rochester friends, when the PawSox come to town, they’re still my team).  My being a fan may have something to do with my New England origins.  Or it may be due in part to the fact that when my dad’s brother was dying from Leukemia in the 1950s, the great Ted Williams made regular trips to Mass General just to visit him.  Then again there’s the iconic Citgo sign parked out beyond left centerfield which has been a Boston landmark longer than I’ve been alive.

But as I think about it, my love for the Sox is probably due more than anything else to the great Fenway Park with its 37’ 2” high left field wall, affectionately known as the “Green Monster”; the highest wall of any major league baseball stadium; towering over left fielders since 1912. 

So imagine my surprise and subsequent outrage when in the 2002-03 off-season, the Green Monster was renovated with the installation of 274 seats, with even more added in 2005.  I realize Fenway Park has one of the smallest seating capacities and with players’ salaries skyrocketing, it takes more fans to generate more revenue, but really guys, the Green Monster?  You had to desecrate the holiest ground at Fenway Park by installing seats on her?  Have you no decency?  Is nothing sacred?

I wonder if these were the questions on the minds and hearts of the Scribes and Pharisees in Sunday morning’s gospel reading from Mark.  Is nothing sacred?  Jesus’ followers have not only been associating with all kinds of unclean people, but they don’t even wash their hands before eating as the religious tradition dictates.  How can they call themselves followers of God and not abide by God’s traditions?  From the Pharisees’ perspective, Jesus’ followers are not simply neglecting God’s statutes, they are spitting on the holiness of God.  They are threatening the very fabric of Israelite existence with their cavalier ways.  So yeah, the good religious folks are a bit upset.  They’ve drawn their line in the sand.

Before we launch off on some tirade against the Pharisees and their apparent close-mindedness, maybe we should look at the lines we draw in the sand.  Make no mistake about it, when it comes to life in the church, we all have them; we all have those lines you better not cross.

 

What if we cut the Congregation Council in half while at the same time eliminating Core Groups and their subcommittees in favor of a more agile congregation?  What if we were to move the altar table around the sanctuary on a seasonal basis?  What if we removed all the pews in order to make our worship space more flexible on Sunday, while creating a daily dining space for the homeless?  Do you see where I’m going here?  We all have buttons to be pushed.  We all have traditions we are unable or unwilling to forsake.

It’s taken all these years for me to finally accept what the Red Sox owners did to my beloved “Green Monster”.  I see now that their motives were not malevolent. As much as I may hate to admit it, they may have had the well-being of both the team and the park in mind.   And if I’m honest with myself, I have to acknowledge that my precious Green Monster wasn’t always green.

Once again this week, I’m not entirely sure where my sermon will end up on Sunday.  But my guess is that it’s going to have something to do with being open to the Spirit; being open to God working in new ways; trusting that God’s not going to lead us into bad places.

Join me on Sunday and let’s see where God takes us.

Peace and Love,

Pastor Doug

Another Shooting in Rochester

There’s been another shooting in Rochester.  Though every shooting and every death is tragic and there have been way too many of them this year, this particular event last night seemed even more cruel than usual.  In front of the Boys and Girls Club on Genesee Street, a place of refuge and empowerment, seven people were shot resulting in three deaths.  At this point two of the three have been identified; Raekwon, 19 years old and Jonah 17.  I know neither their stories, nor the circumstances that led to the violence perpetrated against them, but I do know that they were too young to die.

I cannot begin to imagine the devastating heart break overwhelming Raekwon’s and Jonah’s parents right now.  As a parent who has children of similar ages, my heart aches for their families.  Children aren’t supposed to die before their parents; especially children so young.  Sure, our kids get older and with every passing day they seem more and more adult-like, but they never stop being our kids.  We never stop worrying about them.  We never forget the days of diapers and bottles; cut knees, scraped elbows and the occasional bruised feelings.   We never forget the super-hero promises we made of keeping them out of harm's way.

The streets of our city have become a killing field.  The cemeteries of our city are swallowing up our children.  Rochester’s reality reflects the reality of the larger culture in which we live: A culture addicted to gun violence.  Add to that the systemic cycle of poverty and a powder keg emerges. 

At every homicide location, we’ve been gathering in prayer and sadly our prayer vigils have been occurring almost weekly.  At these vigils we pray for peace, understanding, and healing.  We pray that God will hallow the ground desecrated by the spilling of blood.  And yet the violence continues.  Shootings remain at epidemic levels.  As people of faith we can’t help but ask the questions, “Where is God in all of this?”  “Does God hear our prayers and laments?”  “Does God even care?”  These questions are not only fair, but they are faithful.  I ask these questions myself. Come on God, can’t you stop this insanity?  You could part the Red Sea, can’t you part the violence?  If only we had magic wands to make the violence disappear.

We don’t have wands, but here’s who we do have.  We have Jesus.  I’m not talking about Jesus walking and talking with me alone in some remote garden.  (Sorry, that old hymn gets it wrong.)  No, the Jesus we have is the one who knows about systemic poverty, because he was born and lived his entire life in it.  The Jesus we have is the one who himself was an innocent victim of violence as his tortured body hung dying on a cross.  The Jesus we have is the one who cried out in anguish on the cross to a God whom he thought had abandoned him.  The Jesus we have is the one who didn’t stay dead; who was raised by God thereby putting death itself to death.

And yet our children still die.  With blood stains fresh on our streets, Good Friday death still casts its ominous shadow.  Oh sure, we know that Sunday’s coming; that an empty Easter tomb awaits us; that God promises a future of healing, reconciliation, and life, but we can’t entirely dismiss the fear and discouragement of the present.  That Holy Saturday tomb looks so huge. 

Here’s the deal: In the midst of my doubts and fears; in the midst of tears that come way too easily; I will continue to keep Easter vigils on street corners and I invite you to join me.  Who knows?  Maybe our presence on street corners is the presence of God for which we’ve been praying.  Maybe our tears of Good Friday anguish are God’s tears.  Maybe our vigils, in which prayers for shattered tombs are offered, will give Easter hope to one sibling, one parent, one child.

Peace and Love,

Pastor Doug

God's Scandalous Church

“’I am the living bread that came down from heaven.  Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh’” (John 6:51).

Though I’m not preaching on Sunday, this verse from the gospel reading has been haunting me all week.  On the surface Jesus’ words seem fairly harmless.  “I am the bread of life”.  I can preach that and maybe even do a fairly adequate job of it.  I mean how hard is it to talk about getting nourishment from Jesus?  I could stand up in the pulpit and point out the differences between God’s nourishment and the hollow nourishment of the world.  I could point to the times in Scripture when God has miraculously fed God’s people on their long and arduous journeys of faith.  Or I could use this text as an opportunity to talk about the importance of being fed weekly at the altar table of God’s love with a piece of bread and a sip of wine.  I could go to all these places and probably offend no one; At least no one who has made the “journey” to church on Sunday morning.   But I can’t go there.  Not this week.

For some reason the radicalness of Jesus’ words won’t let me go.  They won’t let me tame Jesus and his scandalous call to follow.  These words won’t even let me preach a sermon on the “whys” of Eucharist.  Sure I could preach a barn burner of a sermon about our need to be fed daily with the body and blood of Christ.  But I can’t go there. Not this week.

“The bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh”.  How in the world can the religious folks of Jesus’ day even stomach such a shock jock phrase?  A good religious person of Jesus’ day knows that any talk of flesh is unclean.  It is not kosher.  So, who does this Jesus think he is claiming that it is his flesh and blood that truly nourishes?  Jesus’ declaration turns everything upside down.  Every faith truth ever told; every faith assumption ever held is undone by this one sentence.  In Jesus’ day, flesh and blood are ritually unclean.  If contact is made with either, folks are cast out of community.  Without community survival is almost impossible.

Can we even begin to grasp the radical nature of Jesus’ words?  Surely these ancient kosher laws don’t apply to our lives, but in what scandalous ways does Jesus call us to follow?  In what scandalous ways does Jesus call us out of our safety zones?  In what scandalous ways does Jesus call us to abandon our theological certitudes?  In this post-modern world in which the church no longer finds itself at the center of society’s norms and mores, what is Jesus calling us to do and to be?  How open are we to God acting in new and creative ways?   How open are we to God’s reforming word re-defining all that we have taken for granted in the last 500 years?  How open are we to God changing the very definition of church?  The scriptural canon is certainly closed, but is it possible that God is still speaking?

Jesus’ words are radical both for his day and for ours.  But they are also filled with good news.  In keeping with the Hebrew notion of flesh and blood containing one’s total being, when Jesus talks about giving his flesh and blood, he is promising nothing less than the giving of his entire self.  I don’t know about you, but I can’t begin to get my head around that kind of love; that kind of love that holds nothing back.  And yet it is precisely that abiding love which not only nourishes and sustains us, but sends us back out into the world to feed God’s sheep.   How will we feed God’s sheep in the weeks, months, and years to come holding nothing back?  Join me in worship; in that place where the crucified and risen Christ has promised to be.  And let us discern together where God is calling us to travel and who God is calling us to be; no matter how radical and scandalous the call.

Peace and Love,

Pastor Doug

Incarnate Word - Come Out!

“They were saying, ‘Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know?  How can he now say, ‘I have come down from heaven’?” (John 6:42).

Surely by now, you grumbling religious leaders know who Jesus is.  He’s the Son of God.  Haven’t you been listening?  Haven’t you seen what he’s done?  Surely that wedding at Cana where he turned 180 gallons of water into the finest wine must have convinced someone.  Missed the Cana gig? Well, certainly you religious experts saw how Jesus healed the paralytic on the steps of the Temple in Jerusalem.  You groused enough about it; Something about it being unlawful to heal on the Sabbath.  Really guys? What about the stilling of the storm?  Or the feeding of the 5,000?  Haven’t you figured out who Jesus is yet?  Maybe you should have been with me back in second grade when the most incredible Sunday School teacher ever, Mrs. Barnes, told us what it meant that God put on our flesh in Jesus; That God took his love for us to a whole new level in becoming one of us.  You quote chapter and verse of scripture looking for God and can’t see that God is already here and has found you.  Jesus is God’s Word spoken at Creation made flesh; God’s Word of prophetic faithfulness made flesh; God’s Word of healing made flesh.  And still you can’t see beyond appearances? 

Truth be told, I too have a hard time seeing beyond appearances. I’m ordained.  I’ve been to seminary, studied Greek, learned how to dissect Scripture and put it back together again, all the while learning how to teach and preach this stuff.  But when push comes to shove I have doubts.  I have times when my holy imagination has run dry.  We clergy stake our entire lives on gospel proclamation and still we see churches dying before our very eyes; haunted hulks of once vibrant church buildings, now shabby specters of bygone glory.  We see dwindling numbers of people in church and the fear that evokes, experiencing that fear first hand in personal attacks and in some instances firings.   We see what the church could be and still feel the shackles of congregational anxiety holding us back from adapting to the culture’s needs around us.  We see budgets shrink and programs go unfunded and still have to explain why folks aren’t beating down the doors of our churches on a Sunday morning.   By all appearances, God at times seems absent.  Little wonder that so many clergy are lonesome, weary, depressed, and end up leaving the ministry after just a few short years.

But here’s the deal, God has never been stopped by appearances.  Our white mainline Protestant churches may, like Lazarus, have the stench of death in their garments, appearing to be dead, but when the Word made flesh utters the words “come out”, death’s defeat has begun.  Old ways of being the church may be dead or dying and our congregations may seem lifeless, but when Jesus issues that same “Lazarus call” to us, new life has begun and the church is literally pregnant with possibility.

 

“Come out!”  Jesus’ words to Lazarus and to us.  Come out!  In the face of decline, come out!  Unwrap the grave clothes.  Breathe deep and step into the light.  Come out and be the church – be the Beloved Community God has called you to be; doing justice and loving mercy; not ecclesiastical entrepreneurs but God’s holy fools proclaiming life and hope in the midst of death and despair. Be the Beloved Community God has called you to be in the waters of Baptism; no longer fearing appearances of scarcity but trusting the promises of God’s abundance; trusting that God is not yet done with us and won’t be for a very long time.  Come out.  Dear friends in Christ, come out!

Peace and Love,

Pastor Doug

Church of Action: Do we dare be that church?

“What must we do to perform the works of God?” (John 6:28).

Seems like a completely reasonable question given all that’s just happened.  Word of Jesus’ healings and feedings have gone viral.  The recently fed crowd of 5,000 wants more. So they begin looking furiously for Jesus and his disciples.  Much to everyone’s surprise Jesus is found hanging out on “the other side of the sea”; the other side of the tracks; the unclean side of the world; the neighborhood to which nice respectable church folk would never venture.  These folks are desperately hungry.  I mean come on, they’ve actually ventured into the 14621 zip code of their world.  Obviously they’ve been given a taste of something great and they want more.  And so comes the question, “How do we get more?”  Or put another way, “What must we do to perform the works of God?”   We’ve glimpsed what it means to be filled and we want more.

Hungering crowds are not just the stuff of bible stories.  The world in which we live is a perishable parched wilderness offering hollow nourishment.  Its inhabitants hunger and thirst for meaning; for value; for connectedness; for lives that are nourished and whole. Instead they find brokenness, poverty, and injustice.  They find profound loneliness in a world of social media that is anything but social.   

In our world, in our city, and in our lives storms rage.  So, where is the church in all of this?  Where are the followers of the Prince of Peace?  Where are those whose Lord sends them out to feed God’s sheep?  Do we, the church, have a voice in any of these storms and if so, where do we find that voice?  It is one thing to talk about feeding sheep, it is quite another to actually do so.

Don’t get me wrong, there is value in talking about feeding and healing.  We call that theology.  Theology is absolutely essential in informing us as to the “why” of mission.  Theology is how we talk about and live with God.  It grounds us in all that we do.  But if our theology is all talk and no action, then we are not the church sent out by the dancing flames of Pentecost.  And if we are not that church, then we are not the church at all; merely a dwindling social club of irrelevancy.  And why would we expect God to empower that? 

“What must we do to perform the works of God?”  Kind of a scary question if you ask a good Lutheran.  We abhor the word, “works”.  We despise it.  We run away from it.  Haven’t we been taught that “works” don’t get us into heaven?  Of course “works” don’t buy salvation, but they are absolutely essential to our relationship with God and each other.  Talk doesn’t feed my hungry neighbor.  Works of love do. 

I’m not quite sure where my sermon on this text will end up on Sunday morning, but of this I am certain.  God has fed us that we might feed others; and not just talk about it.  God doesn’t need another mouth house; another place where we’re all talk and no action.  In Sunday’s gospel story, Jesus is found on the other side of the sea; Feeding and healing in unclean, unsafe, scandalous places. Where will we be found?

Peace and Love,

Pastor Doug

  

Where Heaven Touched Earth...

I’ve always suspected The Lord’s Prayer was real and probably even relevant.  But to be honest with you the words of that prayer have spilled off my lips so many times, in so many contexts, over so many years that they have become rote to me.  The words of the Lord’s Prayer have become so commonplace, oftentimes I don’t even hear them as I speak them.  Then comes the fear:  I think I may have been daydreaming, what did I just pray?  I’m just waiting for the time when one of our dear homebound members, for whom this prayer is powerful, stops me dead in my tracks to ask me what I just prayed.  So here’s the scoop:  I haven’t always given much thought about the Lord’s Prayer and the communal relationship it embodies.  That was until today.

 At noontime, seven of us gathered in prayer, holding hands, lifting up the latest victim of a Rochester homicide.  Jit Mongar, a 38 year old Nepalese refugee and sole bread winner for his seven children was robbed at gunpoint and murdered in the parking lot of Lake Food Market on Sunday night.

“Our Father in heaven.  Holy be your name.  Your Kingdom come, Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”

This prayer of holiness offered on the very ground that had been desecrated by the spilling of blood just three days ago.  “Your Kingdom come, Your will be done – especially here O Lord at 785 Lake Avenue.  Please God, bring healing to these precious children whose dad will never be coming home again.  Please God, murder can’t be your will, especially on the day of Resurrection. We need your holiness.  We need your peace.  We need for heaven to touch the earth.”

And it did.  Heaven bent down to touch the earth today in the words of a little girl who walked by our ecumenical prayer circle with her mother.  “Look Mommy, those people are praying”.  That’s all she said.  That’s all she needed to say.  In years to come, she may or may not remember that a father of seven was murdered on that spot, but she will remember that in her neighborhood, victimized by poverty and violence, some people stood around in a circle, holding hands in prayer.

Thank you God.  Your Kingdom came near today, but not as I imagined it.  It may have come near in the prayers we offered, maybe not.  But I know for sure heaven touched the earth today in the curiosity of a little girl who proclaimed words of hope on that Rochester killing field, “Look Mommy, those people are praying…”

“Your Kingdom come, Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”  I think I may have seen that today not only in prayers spoken but in prayer proclaimed.

Amen.  Come Lord Jesus…

Peace and Love,

Pastor Doug 

Gut Wrenching Jesus...

“As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them…”

This is one of my favorite verses taken from this past Sunday’s gospel reading.  Up to this point in Mark’s story, Jesus and his apostles have been healing and teaching like crazy – they’ve been swamped by crowds of folks hungering and thirsting for healing and wholeness – folks who have seen a glimpse of the Kingdom and want more.  They have been ravenous for new life.  In fact the crowds have been so overwhelming, there’s been no time to eat.

 

Finally, seeing the need for rest, Jesus invites the Twelve to come away with him to a “deserted place”.   So, they get into a boat by themselves and not even a single verse passes before they are recognized again by more crowds in what can only be described as pandemonium.  Jesus and the Twelve have definitely attained “rock star” status.

So what does Jesus do in the face of more crowds?  If it were me, my introverted side would take over and I would probably turn the boat around looking for an even more deserted place; staying out on the water all night if that’s what it took to catch a break from the throngs of people.

 

But that’s not what Jesus does.  Rather than seeing mindless crowds of people looking for a free hand-out, Jesus’ eyes see something different.  Jesus sees beloved people fashioned in the divine image of their creator and he has compassion for them.  Having compassion; now that sounds safe.  We all like to think that when push comes to shove we play well with others; that our hearts are full of compassion.  Except what Mark is referring to here is not compassion of the heart.  The greek word for compassion literally translates as “gut-wrenching”.  Upon seeing the broken and hurting people, Jesus’ stomach turns somersaults.  In other words, not only does Jesus’ heart feel for the people, but so too does his stomach.  For Jesus, hunger and brokenness is not academic.  It’s enough to make him feel sick to his stomach.  Jesus’ breath is wrenched away.

If that kind of compassion is good enough for Jesus, maybe it’s good enough for us as well.  I wonder if we in the church are even capable of that kind of compassion.  In the face of numeric decline both in pews and in bank accounts, are we really able to feel gut wrenching compassion for the broken, hurting, and dispossessed around us?  I tend to think not.  Oh sure, we’re nice people.  We have our “cute” little table prayers that affirm “God is great, God is good...”;  we can agree that the “golden rule” is a noble way to live our lives; sometimes, we might even find ourselves talking about poverty, violence and racism. But when push comes to shove, are these the concerns that cause us to be ill?  Does another murder in our city keep us awake at night wondering where Jesus is in the midst of it and how we might be God’s instruments of peace?  Do we even give a thought to the single mom in the RAIHN program, working two jobs and unable to make ends meet?  Do our stomachs churn restlessly as we continue to remember and mourn what happened in Charleston a few weeks ago? Or have we taken the media's lead and stopped making ourselves aware of the racism around us and in us?

Sadly, this is often where Jesus and the church part ways.  In Mark’s gospel, Jesus and his followers go on to feed thousands on a hillside, while the church continues to seek its own survival; looking to its financial bottom line as an indicator of health.  Yes, we are those folks hungering and thirsting for wholeness.  But we are also the church, named and claimed by God in the waters of Baptism to bear God’s creative and redeeming word to all the world.  We are tired and broken and yet we are fed each week that we may feed.

We are the church and the church is not called to survive.  We are called to be poured out in love for the world.  Because love first found its way to us on the Cross of Christ, we are compelled to the gut wrenching compassion that stops at nothing to love the loveless, feed the hungry, and heal the broken.  As far as I can tell, Jesus never counted the cost of such compassion; so why in the world would we?

Peace and Love,

Pastor Doug

Blockbuster Church? Shift Happens...

There is a building just down the street from Incarnate Word that haunts me to no end.  It is not some boarded up old mansion where “ghoulies and ghosties” slink around on creeky floorboards sending shivers down the spines of those who might live there.  Nor is it a creepy old mansion where neighborhood children are too fearful to trick-or-treat on Halloween.  The building in question sits on the corner of Monroe and South Goodman. Once occupied by Blockbuster Video, it stands now as an abandoned reminder of a company gone extinct.  Though the letters of the sign are no longer affixed to the front of the building, their imprints have been left behind on the building’s façade.  Not only that, but just inside the large windows stand the once bright yellow and blue counters; now dulled by years of vacancy.

There was a time when Blockbuster Video owned the market in movie rentals.  They perfected the concept of renting movies.  If you happened to miss a great movie in the theatres, no worries, in just a couple of months you could travel to your neighborhood Blockbuster Video and be sure to find it on the shelf.  No more having to deal with the inconvenience of movie theatre crowds.  No more standing in line for tickets and refreshments.  No more having to hear the annoyingly incessant whispers of those around you distracting and giving away the endings of movies.  Blockbuster Video promised all the enjoyment of “blockbuster” movies in the convenience of your own home, on your own time.  What a great concept!  What could possibly go wrong?

Well as with anything else in life, when it comes to paradigms, shift happens.  Enter Netflix with a new and crazy idea for movie rentals.  Imagine if instead of having to get in the car and drive to your neighborhood video store, you could instead subscribe to a video service which for a monthly fee delivers thousands of movies and television programs directly to your family room both by mail and over the internet.  Crazy right?

At its peak in 2004, there were 9,000 iconic blue and yellow Blockbuster stores, employing over 60,000.  Apparently when this upstart company called Netflix first emerged on the video rental market a few years earlier, Blockbuster was given the opportunity to purchase it for $50 million, thus adopting its radical ideas and technologies.  Unable to imagine how such a concept could fly, Blockbuster politely declined the offer, and well, the rest is history. By 2010 Blockbuster declared bankruptcy and its final 300 stores were closed in 2013.  Meanwhile, Netflix grew to become a multi-billion dollar corporation with over 50 million subscribers in more than 40 countries around the globe.

Back to my haunting.  Clearly Blockbuster lacked the ability to envision new ways of doing things.  I can just imagine some yuckity-yuck on Blockbuster’s board of directors exclaiming, “Videos by mail?  Downstreaming directly to televisions and computers?  We’ve never done it that way before.  If it ain’t broke…”

Sound familiar?  Well, if you’ve ever spent any time around a church, it certainly does.  How often have we either spouted these words ourselves or heard others around the table do so?

Has the church become like Blockbuster, refusing to change to connect with new generations of Americans who have different needs and expectations than their parents and grandparents? Put another way:  Are we a Blockbuster church living in a Netflix world? Have we failed to imagine new paradigms for doing and being church?  Have we failed to dream?  Have we failed to take risks?

A long time ago, in his first Pentecost sermon, where his life was endangered, Peter proclaimed

“In the last days it will be, God declares,
that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh,
   and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
and your young men shall see visions,
   and your old men shall dream dreams” (Acts 2:17).

Lack of vision and fear of risk are not simply Incarnate Word phenomena.  They are cancers that have extended their tentacles around every congregation at some point or another.  They are  cancerous and they are deadly.  They lead to fear, stress, uncertainty, and anxiety.  They paralyze us.

Like it or not, we live in a Netflix world; a world that no longer assumes the church is legitimate.  We live in a world where many have either been hurt by the church or been discouraged by what they perceive to be hypocrisy and salesmanship fueled by an instinct for institutional survival.  We live in a world that sees us as irrelevant; talking of love but not acting upon it.

I’m sorry to say but 1959 is gone.  So too is 1985.  Heck, for that matter so too is 2004. We can no longer assume that if we just open our doors on a Sunday morning, folks will flock to join us because we are nice or if we just put the right program or person in place, young families will fill our pews and Sunday School classrooms.

Though I continue to be haunted by the old vacant Blockbuster store down the street, I deliberately drive by it every day.  In so doing, I remind myself that as your pastor, I will not simply let Incarnate Word go the way of Blockbuster.  Not when we’re feeding the hungry, housing the homeless, and holding weekly prayer vigils for homicide victims in our city. (just to name a few things).

Folks in our neighborhood are looking for an authentic community of faith where they can connect with others, making a difference in the world around them.  They are looking for meaningful relationships in communities grounded in justice and guided by unconditional love.  Who better to offer that than the ones who follow the God who declares,

“See the home of God is among mortals…God himself will be with them; he will wipe every tear from their eyes.  Death will be no more…See, I am making all things new” (Revelation 21:3-5).

God does make all things new.  Together in Christ, let's dream dreams. Let's not be a Blockbuster church.  Let's adapt to the brave new Netflix world out there.  Yes, it is that simple.

Peace and Love,

Pastor Doug

"God's Work Our Hands..."

If you weren't in church on Sunday, you missed a great sermon by Pastor Joanne, in which she brilliantly spoke to the radical call of community to which Jesus calls us.  Using Mark’s narrative of Jesus sending out the twelve with “nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts…”  PJ spoke passionately and eloquently about the blessing that is community.  The twelve are sent out with all “authority” and yet they are to depend not on themselves but upon the generosity of those they meet. 

If you ask me, that’s the hardest thing about being a follower of Jesus; giving up self-reliance.  As a recovering control freak, that is not easy for me to do.  My entire life I’ve subscribed to the cliché, that if you want something done right, you must do it yourself.  I’m good with that.  No compromise is needed.  No conversations are entailed.  It’s not that I don’t play well with others, it’s just I’ve found that being on a committee of one is much easier than having to work with others.  Scheduling is a breeze when it’s just my calendar on the table.  Consensus is even easier.  But apparently that’s not how Jesus works, nor is that the lifestyle to which Jesus calls us.

For the twelve being sent out by Jesus, there is no survival without community.  Maybe that’s the point. 

Earlier this spring, each congregation of our synod was challenged to raise $400 for ELCA World Hunger.  I challenged the saints here at Incarnate Word that if we raised $1,000, I would cycle from Rochester to Brockport delivering food to the Brockport Food Pantry in memory of Monika Andrews.  In typical Incarnate Word fashion, this community rose to the challenge; raising over $2,300!   

So, this past Sunday five of us dawned our bright yellow “God’s Work Our Hands” t-shirts trekking 21 miles to Brockport.  There we were in our matching yellow God shirts, cycling along the Erie Canal Trail.  At one point a young girl even shouted out to us, “nice shirts!”  Had it just been me riding the trail, “God’s Work Our Hands” would have gone unnoticed.  But with five of us riding in tandem, folks we encountered knew that God was up to something; something involving community.

 

We are each called to follow Jesus in lives of discipleship; thankful lives shaped by sacrificial love and service.  But we are not called to do that alone.  We are called to live those lives in community.  To work alongside others; to depend upon others; even those with whom we don’t normally associate; even those we don’t especially like.  I guess that’s what makes us a church and not a club.  We are not like-minded.  We come from different backgrounds with very different points of view.  And yet we come together in community, enlivened by God and fashioned in God’s image, holding each other up, sharing our gifts with the world.

By the way, during our trek one of our cyclists was taken out by a low hanging tree branch along the trail, suffering cuts and scrapes.  Though he would have certainly made it to our final destination, because he was in community infection was averted. Neosporin was administered and cuts were bandaged.  Who better to do that, than the ones whose lives are shaped by the confession plastered across the front of our yellow shirts?  “God’s Work Our Hands”.

Peace and Love,
Pastor Doug

Marriage Equality...

“No union is more profound than marriage, for it embodies the highest ideals of love, fidelity, devotion, sacrifice, and family. In forming a marital union, two people become something greater than once they were. As some of the petitioners in these cases demonstrate, marriage embodies a love that may endure even past death. It would misunderstand these men and women to say they disrespect the idea of marriage. Their plea is that they do respect it, respect it so deeply that they seek to find its fulfillment for themselves. Their hope is not to be condemned to live in loneliness, excluded from one of civilization’s oldest institutions. They ask for equal dignity in the eyes of the law. The Constitution grants them that right”                                                 ~ Justice Anthony Kennedy.

With these words, Justice Kennedy voiced his support of the Supreme Court’s decision to legalize same-sex marriage in the United States.  Before some of us go off on a rant of opposition, it would be wise to be reminded that similar words were penned almost 50 years ago by another Supreme Court Justice; Chief Justice Earl Warren.  In Loving v. Virginia, in which the Supreme Court threw out a Virginia law banning interracial marriage, Chief Justice Warren wrote, “Marriage is one of the ‘basic civil rights of man,’ fundamental to our very existence and survival”.

Without a doubt, some will quote scripture in voicing their opposition to gay marriage.  Why not?  Folks did it 50 years ago in expressing similar opposition to interracial marriage and the ordination of women.  They did it as well 150 years ago around the issue of slavery.  But as was the case then, so it is now, literal interpretation of scripture from centuries ago, does not speak to the issues of today.

“Traditional marriage” is almost impossible to find in scripture.  Don’t look to Abraham for that, who fathered sons from two different women, one of whom was a slave woman who had no choice in the matter.  His son Jacob had two wives and two concubines having children with all four and apparently with God’s approval.  The ancient Torah took for granted that a man may have two wives.  Many of the kings of Israel were known to have large harems.  Oh and lest we somehow believe that Biblical marriage involved two consenting adults, an unmarried woman living in her father’s house, was transferred into her husband’s possession by his payment of the “bride price”.  Marriages in the Old Testament were arranged.  They were property transactions.  Does that sound familiar to us today?  Of course not.

What about Old Testament prohibitions against homosexuality?  Well, Genesis 19 specifically speaks to the issue of gang rape, not love between two consenting adults.   Likewise Deuteronomy 23:17-18 likely speaks to the issue of heterosexual prostitutes of other religions infiltrating Jewish worship; whether “gay” or “straight”, a committed same-sex relationship of love is not what’s being described here. 

Certainly in the New Testament Paul must have something to say about gay marriage.  Don’t go looking at Romans 1 for any help here.  Throughout the first chapter of Romans, Paul gives us a lengthy litany of all those who stand condemned by God; In addition to those who are “consumed” with de-humanizing passions toward others, the condemned also include those who gossip, slander, covet, envy, are boastful, as well as those who are rebellious against parents.  Has Paul missed anybody? Certainly not me!

But just in case any one of us believes that we don’t fall into any of these condemned categories, Paul nails the coffin shut in Romans 2:1.  “Therefore you have no excuse, whoever you are, when you judge others; for in passing judgment on another you condemn yourself, because you, the judge, are doing the very same things.”   Paul goes on to say “since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus”.  In other words all of us have seats in the sin boat.  But so too are we all recipients of God’s saving grace through the Jesus life raft.

Speaking of Jesus, surely he must have something to say about gay marriage.  Nothing.  Not a thing.  What we do know of Jesus is that in addition to being poured out on the cross in love for the world, he is always siding with those who are oppressed.  He eats with prostitutes and tax collectors;  he blesses children who, by the way, are the most marginalized in Jesus’ world; he speaks blessings to the poor; he challenges dehumanizing institutions, and when pressed by the religious know-it-alls, obsessed with determining who’s in and who’s out, he says that loving God and loving neighbor are the only two things that matter.

Whether Scripture informs your worldview or not, let’s take a step back.  Gays and lesbians who choose to marry, like their heterosexual counterparts, are affirming the goodness of marriage.  They are affirming the desire to enter into relationships of covenantal faithfulness.  They are willingly binding themselves to one another in lifelong commitments of fidelity and love.  Love and faithfulness:  Two words that abound in God’s vocabulary.  If they’re good enough for God, maybe they’re good enough for all of us.

Peace and Love,

Pastor Doug

"Talitha Cum"

Let me just start by saying, I’m in a funk and I’ve been here for about a week now. The world is without a doubt beginning to move on from last week’s horrific murders in a Charleston, S.C. church.  So why can’t I?  Why can’t I seem to move on as well?  Families of the murdered have begun to publicly forgive the killer, inviting him to discover the healing that comes from Christ.

 

I know in my heart of hearts that what they are doing is right.  They are clearly looking at this killer through the eyes of Jesus.  Perhaps they are seeing what Jesus saw when he encountered a man possessed by an entire legion of spirits as told in Mark’s gospel.  Perhaps they are seeing a man possessed by the spirits of violence, hatred, and racism amplified only by a love of guns in a culture addicted to violence.  Perhaps they are seeing beneath these spirits to a young man who is someone’s child; a man, who along with the rest of us, bears the image of our creator.  Perhaps they are seeing yet one more broken person to whom Jesus came into this world to love with arms opened wide on a cross.  Clearly these families embody the words of Dr. King when he said, “hate cannot drive out hate.  Only love can do that.”

I want to be in this place with these wonderfully loving and faith-filled families.  I want to be able to see beneath the heinous act, to a child in need of love, mercy, and forgiveness.  But I am not yet there.  I cannot even bring myself to mention the killer’s name.  I want to be able to, but I’m just not there yet. 

Maybe I’m the hemorrhaging woman from Mark’s gospel as my ability to forgive bleeds away; as the grace entrusted to me by God soils the ground on which I walk instead of gracing the lives of those around me in need of mercy.

Perhaps I’m Jairus’ daughter as my faith teeters near the point of death still haunted by the question of how one human being can callously extinguish the lives of nine others – even after they have embodied Jesus by welcoming him in their midst with loving and open arms. 

So, here I am in my faith funk.  Here I am in my shock at such a brutal act;  in my sadness at the loss of so many innocent lives;  in  my anger that we live in a culture perpetuating violence and racism; in my frustration that in another news cycle or two, we will soon forget Charleston, convincing ourselves that things aren’t so bad.  Here I am still unable to let the killer’s name issue forth from my lips.

Regardless of who I relate to in next Sunday’s gospel story, one reality is abundantly clear.  I am in need of healing.  Like the little girl’s father, Jairus, who begs repeatedly that Jesus come and heal his daughter, I’m beginning to see that his pleas are my pleas.  Like the hemorrhaging woman who is exhausted and has spent all she has on cures and now will stop at nothing to touch Jesus’ cloak, I know that a touch is all I need to be refreshed and made whole.

And here’s the good news.  Jesus is here crossing in his boat to my “other side”; breaking down my barriers:  Even the ones to which I’m rather partial;  Jesus is here walking in our midst, cloak brushing up against our soiled brokenness; violating the holiness codes of our self- righteous anger and fear-filled confusion.  Jesus is here with hands extended to my nearly dead faith with these transforming words: “Talitha cum”:  “Little child, get up.”

Maybe there is healing after all.  For the victims of last week’s murders, for my nearly shattered faith, and maybe even for… (do I dare say?).. Dylann Roof.

Peace and Love,

Pastor Doug