How important is our building anyway?

The following blog was posted by a dear friend in Toronto who recently led a group of Torontonians to Rochester on a tour of sacred spaces.  Peter's words magnificently highlight the stunning beauty of our building's unique and powerfully symbolic architecture.  Though our ministry is not defined by our building, it can certainly be inspired by it.

Enjoy,
Pastor Doug

http://peter.yorkminsterpark.com/2013/05/the-lutheran-church-of-the-incarnate-word---rochester-pilgrimage-of-sacred-spaces.php 

SNAP cuts? Really?

"Here are symbols to remind us of our lifelong need of grace; here are table, font, and pulpit; here the cross has central place.  Here in honesty of preaching, here in silence as in speech, here in newness and renewal, God the Spirit comes to each"  (ELW #526).

Honestly this was the verse of our opening hymn on Sunday that gave me the courage to try and bring Amos' scathing words of economic injustice to my sermon.  Though my sermon was by no means intended to be political, its purpose was to invite the church to speak its collective voice in protesting the proposed federal budget cuts to the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP).

The proposal being made in the House of Representatives would cut $40 billion over the next ten years.  No big deal right?  What's $40 billion among friends? 

According to the non-partisan Congressional Budget Office $40 billion looks like this:  4 million low income families will be removed from the SNAP program in 2014 followed by another 3 million families per year for the next ten years.  These cuts will most adversely affect low-income families with children where the parent(s) work for a living but are unable to provide enough food to feed their families.  What has SNAP really done for low income families anyway?  Well, according to the U.S. Census Bureau, food stamps kept 4 million families out of poverty last year.

As a follower of Christ, the one who specifically instructs us to protect the poorest and the most vulnerable, how can I not be morally outraged at those in positions of legislative power who have masterminded such a devastating assault on the weakest among us? 

Historically SNAP has enjoyed bi-partisan support and been recognized as the most effective tool against hunger, but now a majority of congressional representatives are determined to cut  these critical nutrition programs.

Kind of makes Amos' words from this past Sunday come to life.  Preaching to a prosperous people who have forgotten their covenant with God to protect the most vulnerable among them, Amos unleashes harsh words of warning on God's behalf.  "Hear this, you that trample on the needy, and bring to ruin the poor of the land...The Lord has sworn by the pride of Jacob:  Surely I will never forget any of their deeds".

Not easy words to preach.  Not even easy words to speak outside of the pulpit.  But how can I as a follower of Jesus, who sings every Sunday about a "feast of victory for our Lord" sit by and idly watch as millions of families, who are already "food insecure", are cast further into the desert of famine?

Perhaps evangelical preacher and president of Sojourners, Jim Wallis says it best:

"They are going after the poor and hungry people because they think it is politically safe to do so. So let's call that what it is:  moral hypocrisy.  Our job, as people of faith, is to protect the poor and to make it politically unsafe for politicians to go after them - to pick on the poor".

Now that's the honesty of preaching the church needs to hear.  For us to do otherwise is to turn our backs on the very ones Jesus and the prophets before him called us to protect.  Moreover, to do otherwise, places the church in the dark tomb of irrelevancy:  A place in which the church has historically been satisfied to dwell.  Like Lazarus emerging from his dead-end tomb of death at Jesus' beckoning, let us listen for Jesus' call as we too emerge from our own dark, dead tombs standing up for the poor, bearing God's creative and redeeming Word to all the world.  How can we as people of faith do any less?

Click on the ELCA Advocacy link of Incarnate Word's website to find out specific ways in which we the church can raise our voices of justice, mercy and love.

Peace in Christ,
Pastor Doug

A beautiful ending...

"The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart, a fountain ever springing!  All things are mine since I am his!  How can I keep from singing?  No storm can shake my inmost calm while to that Rock I'm clinging.  Since Christ is Lord of heaven and earth, how can I keep from singing?"  

These were the concluding words that a bunch of us pastors sang at the end of our Synod Ministerium retreat this morning.  Though these words alone are powerful in their affirmation of Christ overcoming all the storms of our lives, what spoke most powerfully to my heart today was what happened at the conclusion of the hymn.  Each and every one of us found ourselves caught up in the moment as we began to "hoot and holler" and applaud wildly, as if the home team had just pulled out a bottom of the 9th inning walk off homerun to win the game.

What was it that stirred us "good order" pastors to spontaneous applause and celebration?  Could it be that each of us knows all too well what it means to live in a world broken by heartache, violence, darkness and death?  Could it be that what we experienced today was sweet release from our own pain and tears that we shed on behalf of those whom we lovingly serve as pastor?

I know with all my heart and soul that God does not abandon us in the storms of life, though it may feel like it.  I am quick to convey that reality to anyone overwhelmed in tears of grief.  But deep down in the darkest places of my own heart, I need to know that reality for my life too.  I need to hear that truth conveyed to me.  I need to know that when my own heart breaks there is a rock to which I can cling.  Jesus Christ:  Lord of heaven and earth.

This is what I heard and what I felt this morning in worship.  I am convinced more than ever that this is what life is supposed to be like whenever we gather together in worship in the place where the crucified and risen Christ has promised to be present.

I was renewed this morning by the Spirit who nurtures life in outrageous diversity; who brings Christ near filling our worship and guiding us in hope and who continues to be poured out on all flesh comforting us and at the same time calling us to cross the line between male and female, slave and free, Jew and gentile.

That is what must happen in worship on any given Sunday in any given place.  With this in mind,  I leave you with the words of this morning's benediction:

"May the Spirit be the storm that shakes the foundations, the leap of new fire, which turns oppression to ash; may her wildness seduce us with holy desire; and the blessing of God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit go with you now and always,

Peace,
Pastor Doug

An "a-ha" moment...

In my nearly twenty years of ordained ministry, I have finally come to see what my role as pastor is all about.  (Okay so I'm kind of a slow learner.)  In my head I have known that my function as pastor is to preach the word, preside at the sacrament, teach and bring comfort to God's people.

But yesterday during worship, the "why" of these functions became clear.  As I do most every week when communion distribution is finishing up, I began to ready myself to grab a communion assistant and take the sacrament over to those folk who are physically unable to come forward.  Before my feet even started to move, one of our wonderful liturgical deacons stepped out with a communion assistant in tow and delivered the body and blood of Jesus for me.

We pastors tend to overanalyze a lot of things, but what hit me yesterday was abundantly clear.  My job as pastor (you know, that preaching and presiding stuff) is not to sell the church to the world like some stereotypically sleazy used car salesperson, but to help God's people discern their God-given gifts so that they can be Christ in the world.   Bearing Christ was just what I saw happen in worship yesterday.

Imagine if everyone who was there yesterday took Christ with them back out into the world bearing God's creative and redeeming word in whatever way they are gifted.  I don't have to imagine it.  Knowing the folks of Incarnate Word, I have no doubt that the healing hands and loving heart of Christ went out from here yesterday to a city and a world hungering and thirsting for mercy and justice.

And by the way, here's the miraculous thing about it all.  Not only do they put up with my "out there" preaching and those more than occasional wrong notes I hit in the liturgy, but the very folks who embody the healing and love of Christ in the world have themselves been hungry and thirsty for that same healing love.  What can I say?  God is great!!

Overwhelmed by Christ's love,
Pastor Doug

Dear Parents with Young Children

"You are doing something really, really important. I know it's not easy. I see you with your arms overflowing, and I know you came to church already tired. Parenting is tiring. Really tiring.

I watch you bounce and sway trying to keep the baby quiet, juggling the infant car seat and the diaper bag as you find a seat. I see you wince as your child cries. I see you anxiously pull things out of your bag of tricks to try to quiet them.

And I see you with your toddler and your preschooler. I watch you cringe when your little girl asks an innocent question in a voice that might not be an inside voice let alone a church whisper. I hear the exasperation in your voice as you beg your child to just sit, to be quiet as you feel everyone's eyes on you. Not everyone is looking, but I know it feels that way.

I know you're wondering, is this worth it? Why do I bother? I know you often leave church more exhausted than fulfilled. But what you are doing is so important.

When you are here, the church is filled with a joyful noise. When you are here, the Body of Christ is more fully present. When you are here, we are reminded that this worship thing we do isn't about bible study or personal, quiet contemplation but coming together to worship as a community where all are welcome, where we share in the Word and Sacrament together. When you are here, I have hope that these pews won't be empty in 10 years when your kids are old enough to sit quietly and behave in worship. I know that they are learning how and why we worship now, before it's too late. They are learning that worship is important.

I see them learning. In the midst of the cries, whines, and giggles, in the midst of the crinkling of pretzel bags and the growing pile of crumbs, I see a little girl who insists on going two pews up to share peace with someone she's never met. I hear a little boy slurping (quite loudly) every last drop of his communion wine out of the cup, determined not to miss a drop of Jesus. I watch a child excitedly color a cross and point to the one in the front of the sanctuary. I hear the echos of "Amens" just a few seconds after the rest of the community says it together. I watch a boy just learning to read try to sound out the words in the worship book or count his way to Hymn 672. Even on weeks when I can't see my own children learning because, well, it's one of those mornings, I can see your children learning.

I know how hard it is to do what you're doing, but I want you to know it matters. It matters to me. It matters to my children to not be alone in the pew. It matters to the congregation to know that families care about faith, to see young people... and even on those weeks when you can't see the little moments, it matters to your children.

It matters that they learn that worship is what we do as a community of faith, that everyone is welcome, that their worship matters. When we teach children that their worship matters, we teach them that they are enough right here and right now as members of the church community. They don't need to wait until they can believe, pray or worship a certain way to be welcome here, and I know adults who are still looking to be shown that. It matters that children learn that they are an integral part of this church, that their prayers, their songs, and even their badly (or perfectly-timed, depending on who you ask) cries and whines are a joyful noise because it means they are present.

I know it's hard, but thank you for what you do when you bring your children to church. Please know that your family -- with all of its noise, struggle, commotion, and joy -- are not simply tolerated, you are a vital part of the community gathered in worship"  

                                                                                           ~ Jamie Bruesehoff

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This post originally appeared on I Am Totally *That* Mom.

This Guy is Trouble...



Right from the start, we know that Jesus is a troublemaker.  The very first sentence of this Sunday's gospel reading says so.

"Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near  to listen to Jesus".

Not just some of these people of ill-repute, but ALL of them.  Tax collectors were by nature dis-honest collaborators with the Empire.  First century loan sharks extorting as much money from the 99% as possible.

Sinners.  Well those were everyone else who was for one reason or another ritually unclean and kept on the outside of the religious institution:  The dermatologically challenged, women having their period etc....

And Jesus attracted them all.  Luke tells us that every single one of them were coming near to listen to Jesus.  Juxtaposed to this are the Pharisees and scribes doing what good religious folk do when they see the rules being violated:  They took to grumbling.  Notice their grumbling isn't in the past tense but in the imperfect tense.  It's not a once and done thing.  They were bitching and moaning over and over again about this guy Jesus who was breaking all the rules.

Ironic isn't it?  In both the Hebrew and Christian Testaments, God is always beckoning God's people to listen.  And yet these good religious insiders who could recite the rules backward and forward were unable to do what the "sinners" were doing.  Listen.

"Hear O my people, and I will admonish you:  O Israel if you would but listen to me...I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt...and yet my people did not hear my voice" (Psalm 81).

And Jesus says, "The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep hear his voice.  He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out" (John 10).

Grumbling wasn't a once and done thing in Jesus' day and so too not in ours.  What do we religious insiders today grumble about?  What do religious leaders like me get our panties all in a bunch over?  Who does the church spend lots of time and energy condemning or worse walking right by without even noticing?

I'm going to keep wrestling with this, because I know for a fact that just about all of us have a pretty sketchy track record when it comes to being open to newness.  More often than not we've dropped the ball in welcoming those who differ from us either intentionally or not.

Maybe if we listened a little more and yapped a lot less, we'd see transformation right before our eyes.  Come to church tomorrow and perhaps together in the hymns we sing, the prayers we offer and the meal we share, us "Pharisees", "scribes", "tax collectors" and "sinners" will not only see Jesus, but we'll hear him as well.

Peace and Love,
Pastor Doug

 

Breath of Fresh Air



 



It was reported just this past week that Pope Francis made some random "calls of kindness" one of which was to an unwed pregnant woman.  In tears, she expressed her fear that no priest would baptize the baby of an unwed mother.  He replied, "Well there's always me!"

Does this not embody a breath of fresh air not only in the Roman Church but in the larger Church as well?  Or is this guy just crazy?  As I'm putting pen to paper this week for my sermon, this story seems in keeping with the gospel story of a crazy shepherd who stopped at nothing to search for a lost sheep, thus putting his very livelihood in danger if something happened to the other 99.

Or what about that crazy woman who after turning her house upside down to find a lost coin, presumably spent what that coin was worth and even more to throw a party in celebration?

Can we, the church, learn anything here?  If crazy, extravagant and maybe even reckless actions are lifted as virtue in scripture, can we be anything less?  What does that even look like here at Incarnate Word as we find ourselves planted in a poverty-stricken and violent city?

In the city of good?  Maybe our mission statement should be amended:  "In the city for CRAZY good".  Just sayin'...

Pastor Doug

Never Forget?

Today is 9/11.   And as such we will be asked to relive the trauma of that day twelve years ago when the peaceful skies over New York, Washington, and Pennsylvania were shattered with explosions, collapsing towers and mountainous rubble.    Doubtless there will be observances from "sea to shining sea".  Speeches will be made, memorials held and through it all, we will be told to "never forget".

For some this day, the grief and pain of losing loved ones will be revived, cutting deeply and shattering hearts once again.  For these family and friends, today is a genuine day of remembrance and of not forgetting those whom they loved.  But for those others like me, who did not suffer the loss of friends or family; who saw the tragedy only on television and were never touched personally by it, to "never forget" only serves to cheapen the overwhelming grief felt by those who did lose a parent, child, sibling or spouse that day.

But even more than this, by insisting that our collective memory never forget, a threat is implied:  A threat of vengeance on those who would attack us or even worse on those we think might attack us.  For the past twelve years we have never forgotten.  And where has that gotten us?  Fears have been aroused, wars have been waged, torture has been justified and civil liberties have been eroded.  All because we could never forget.

In the midst of this societal memory characterized by fear and violence, what is needed now more than ever is a new voice speaking a new language: A language not color-coded in hues of retaliation but overflowing with grace upon grace; echoing the One we claim to follow who calls us unabashedly to comfort the afflicted, to pray for our enemies, to turn the other cheek, and to forgive endlessly.  If the church cannot lay claim to this voice - if all we can do is sit on the sidelines offering no alternative to a culture which continues to re-open its 9/11 wounds year after year, then we are not a resurrection people.  We are not the church.

For those who would tell me to never forget the events of 9/11, have no fear I won't.  But neither will I live enslaved to vengeance, fear and retribution.  I will remember.  I will remember that Jesus whom I confess as the Christ, the Messiah of God, is also the Prince of Peace.  Moreover, week after week as I gather with God's people in the place God has promised to be,  I will be reminded that through the waters of baptism I have been called and equipped to embody Christ in the world not just for a day, but for a lifetime!

Peace and blessings for the whole world:  No exceptions.
Pastor Doug