Sunday, August 30, 2020

God is God - Redeemer Episcopal Church

Moses at the Burning Bush

Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law Jethro, the priest of Midian; he led his flock beyond the wilderness, and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush; he looked, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed. Then Moses said, “I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burned up.” When the Lord saw that he had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” Then he said, “Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” He said further, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God.


Then the Lord said, “I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry on account of their taskmasters. Indeed, I know their sufferings, and I have come down to deliver them from the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land to a good and broad land, a land flowing with milk and honey, to the country of the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites. The cry of the Israelites has now come to me; I have also seen how the Egyptians oppress them. 10 So come, I will send you to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt.” 11 But Moses said to God, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh, and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” 12 He said, “I will be with you; and this shall be the sign for you that it is I who sent you: when you have brought the people out of Egypt, you shall worship God on this mountain.”


The Divine Name Revealed

13 But Moses said to God, “If I come to the Israelites and say to them, ‘The God of your ancestors has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ what shall I say to them?” 14 God said to Moses, “I am who I am.” He said further, “Thus you shall say to the Israelites, ‘I am has sent me to you.’” 15 God also said to Moses, “Thus you shall say to the Israelites, ‘The Lord, the God of your ancestors, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, has sent me to you’:

This is my name forever,
and this my title for all generations.


___________________________


This sermon was originally preached for Redeemer Episcopal Church, for a specific people in a specific context in a specific time. We believe in a God that transcends time and space, so I hope these words can speak to you too. You can read the sermon below, listen to the sermon here, or watch the whole worship service here



Let us pray: Lord of all power and might, you are the author and giver of all good things. You are God. Let us never deny that. And always depend upon it. Through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God for ever and ever. Amen.


Some of you might remember from some of my previous sermons or conversations that we have had, that I did my year-long seminary internship in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Which, in case you aren’t sure where Malaysia is, because I didn’t when I was assigned there, Malaysia is in Southeast Asia, around Thailand and Cambodia and just north of Singapore. 


In Malaysia, it was common practice for people to take their shoes off when they entered a person’s home. It was mostly about hygiene — you don’t want to track all the rest of the world into the home — but it was also about respect. I came to understand that a person’s home was holy ground, it mattered that you were invited into that space. The encounters, the conversations, and the transformations that would happen in that space were holy.  


In the first reading this morning, we hear about this wild, sort of mystical experience of Moses’ interaction with God through the burning bush. It’s a story many of us know well— it’s the story of Moses’ call from God, the beginning of what will eventually be the incredible story of the exodus of God’s people from enslavement into freedom. 


Moses is keeping flock and and angel appeared and set a bush on fire, but the bush was not burning up. Moses was curious and got a little bit closer and God called out to him. Moses Moses! 


And if a burning bush started calling to me, I’d run the other way quick. I mean my own personal history tells me that this is how I react to God’s call. 


But Moses was faithful and knew that God was up to something, so he responds, “Here I am!” Then God commands that Moses take off his sandals and reveals Godself to Moses. 


Then God gives Moses these really lofty commands to go to Egypt, approach Pharaoh, and demand that the Israelites be released into freedom. This is Moses’ call story. This was transformational, incredible, holy ground.


So this got me thinking a little bit about the holy ground that we encounter today. What does it mean to step onto holy ground and encounter God? 


When I think about the times when the people of God have encountered God, it is usually when God wants them to go someplace they’d rather not go. I think of Jonah, refusing to go to Nineveh. 


I think of Moses, really not wanting to mess with the Pharaoh in Egypt. I think of Jesus’ disciples when Jesus wants to go basically anywhere— and especially in the text we heard this morning when he says they have to go to Jerusalem and it might get them killed. God’s people often hear when God is calling, but that doesn’t mean that they want to go. 


Perhaps I identify so much with this because this is often where I encounter God as well. Before my arrival in Malaysia for internship, I interviewed with the national Lutheran church leaders to see where they might place me. There were placements all over the world— the UK, Bratislava, Uruguay… all sorts of places. Malaysia was last on my list. It was too far away from my family, I didn’t think I liked Southeast Asian food… I didn’t want to go. Plain and simple. So when they told me that I’d be spending the year in Malaysia, I cried and cried and cried. I was mad at God and said, “why would you send ME there? Send someone else.” I considered backing out at least a dozen times before I left. 


After seminary, my husband Daniel and I spent a lot of time discerning where we might want to go for our first assignments as pastors. Florida was definitely on our “never want to live there” list. So of course, that’s where we were assigned. And we cried and cried and cried. 


But what we didn’t know was that God was coming near to us, we were about to be set on a journey that would change us, that would transform us, that would put us onto holy ground. 


When God’s people, who we learn about in the Bible, encounter God and step onto holy ground, they do not alway respond helpfully either. 


When God comes to Moses in a burning bush and says “go into Egypt and free my people,” it is really no surprise to us that Moses, a lowly shepherd, says “who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” Who am I? Why would you want to send ME?


When Jesus tells his disciples that they have to travel back into the very dangerous city of Jerusalem and it will almost definitely mean suffering and death for Jesus there, Peter says “no! This can’t be so!” 


God is really good at calling people into uncomfortable, unimaginable, and sometimes dangerous situations. And God’s people are really good and saying, “but I don’t wanna!” 


But notice what God does with that answer. When God hears “I can’t” or “I don’t want to,” or “who am I to do this big incredible thing?” God doesn’t remind us of all the things we’ve done before or try to make us feel good about ourselves. God does something that I think is pretty phenomenal. 


God says, “It doesn’t matter who you are. It doesn’t matter what you have or haven’t done. It doesn’t matter if you’re too weak, or not smart enough, or not ready. I AM GOD.” God says that the ONLY thing that matters is that God is God, and that God is equipping us for the road ahead. 


It doesn’t matter who we say that we are, what matters is who God is and what God has done, what God is doing, and what God will do. 


God is God, who created the heavens and the earth, who made everything out of nothing at all, who led the Israelites out of slavery and into freedom. God who, over and over again, delivers God’s people from oppression and hatred and sin and into life. God who did the impossible by taking on flesh to walk among us in Christ Jesus. And in death on the cross defeated death and all the forces of evil. God who is, right now, in the midst of death and pain is bringing about resurrection. God is God. 


That is the hope we have, that is the assurance we have when God calls us to do big, incredible, frightening things. God is God. And we are not. Thanks be to God. 


Thursday, August 27, 2020

New books I'm super excited about

If you follow me on any other social media platform, you might know that I read about one book a week. I'm excited about what the next couple of months bring for the stack of books that hang out on my nightstand. 

Please note, I don't get any money or perks or anything for sharing these books. I just really love sharing authors and good writing with people, and I read quite a bit so people tend to listen to me about books. I have already pre-ordered all of these books that are currently available for preorder, so you should do the same. 

Books to put on your TBR (to be read) list immediately: 


Embodied: Clergy Women and the Solidarity of a Mothering God by Lee Ann M. Pomrenke (comes out September 17, 2020, preorder it now). I'm excited about any book that combines two of my passions: God and mothering. I can't wait to see what Lee Ann will teach us with this one. 





United States of Grace by Lenny Duncan (comes out May 25, 2021, preorder it now). Honestly, everything Lenny does is amazing (I'm a huge fan) so the fact that he would grace us with another book so soon is truly a remarkable move. I hear he has a third book in the works already too. The man's nonstop. 




It's no secret that I love Sarah Bessey and I gift her books to my mother on the regular. But this prayer book just sounds fantastic: For the weary, the angry, the anxious, and the hopeful, this collection of moving, tender prayers offers rest, joyful resistance, and a call to act, written by Barbara Brown Taylor, Amena Brown, Nadia Bolz-Weber, and other artists and thinkers, curated by the author Glennon Doyle calls “my favorite faith writer.”





I can't wait to get my hands on this book by Emily Joy Allison. A lot of my students in campus ministry have come from really awful and abusive church histories and I am always trying to learn more about how to provide care to them. This one comes out in March 2021, but you can preorder it already


I love all books that intersect mothering and theology so I'm totally here for this. It's already out so definitely go order it. It's on my stack, but I haven't been able to pick it up yet because of some stuff in my personal life. BUT I'm excited to be in a space to read this one. You can order it here



I don't really know what to say about this book besides it sounds absolutely amazing. Preorder this now. It's out in February 2021. 


What if the most steadfast faith you'll ever encounter comes from a Black grandmother?


The church mothers who raised Yolanda Pierce, dean of Howard University School of Divinity, were busily focused on her survival. In a world hostile to Black women's bodies and spirits, they had to be. Born on a former cotton plantation and having fled the terrors of the South, Pierce's grandmother raised her in the faith inherited from those who were enslaved. Now, in the pages of In My Grandmother's House, Pierce reckons with that tradition, building an everyday womanist theology rooted in liberating scriptures, experiences in the Black church, and truths from Black women's lives. Pierce tells stories that center the experiences of those living on the underside of history, teasing out the tensions of race, spirituality, trauma, freedom, resistance, and memory.


A grandmother's theology carries wisdom strong enough for future generations. The Divine has been showing up at the kitchen tables of Black women for a long time. It's time to get to know that God.


I'm on the board for Lutherans Restoring Creation, so I am always looking for resources to add to our long list. I am really excited about this one. It comes out in March 2021 and you can preorder it here. I also have some seminary friends who are super passionate about food justice, so I'm excited to see what they think about this too.


I am ALWAYS looking for parenting books that don't suck. And I am so excited about this one. I mean I almost teared up reading the description of this book: 


The Sandbox Revolution calls upon our collective wisdom to wrestle with the questions, navigate the challenges, offer concrete practices, and remind parents of the sacredness of the work. Written by parents who are also writers, pastors, teachers, organizers, artists, gardeners, and activists, this anthology offers a diversity of voices and experiences on topics that include education, money, anti-racism, resistance, spirituality, disability justice, and earth care.


Oof. I can't wait. It comes out in March 2021 (apparently I'll have to quit my job and exclusively read in March...) and you can preorder it here






The Walls Came Tumbling Down by Rob W. Lee, IV. I'm excited that he has another book in the works for us too. I know it's going to be fantastic. I mean just look at that cover. But don't stop there, he has ANOTHER book to be released by the end of 2020 (I don't know how he does it, y'all). 


Coming (COVID-permitting) by the end of 2020. An anthology of articles from Rev. Rob Lee's earliest days at the Statesville R&L his senior year of high school in 2011 to immediately following the Video Music Awards three years ago on a national stage.


And y'all look: Chelsea Clinton wrote the introduction! Yay! 






Elle Dowd is working on a book right now and we don't have many details, but I'll be excited about what she has in store for us in 2021. 

You can also see all of the fantastic books I've read thus far in 2020 right here on Goodreads





Sunday, August 9, 2020

Stepping out of the boat - Redeemer Episcopal Church



Matthew 14:22-33 

Jesus Walks on the Water


22 Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowd. 23 After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray. Later that night, he was there alone, 24 and the boat was already a considerable distance from land, buffeted by the waves because the wind was against it.


25 Shortly before dawn Jesus went out to them, walking on the lake. 26 When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. “It’s a ghost,” they said, and cried out in fear.


27 But Jesus immediately said to them: “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”


28 “Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.”


29 “Come,” he said.


Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. 30 But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!”


31 Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?”


32 And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down. 33 Then those who were in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”


_____________________________


This sermon was originally preach at Redeemer Episcopal Church to a certain people in a certain context in a certain time. We believe in a God who transcends time and space, so I hope that the Holy Spirit might speak to you as well. You can read the sermon below, listen to it here, or watch the whole worship service here



Let us pray. 

God in Christ, give us the courage to step out in faith, leaving behind the comforts of security and peace, and following you into the turbulent waves of the unknown. Amen. 


I have an image of this passage in my office here at Redeemer. It is a big beautiful blue sea wit Jesus, in white, walking across it. There is no boat, no Peter, no storm even. Curious about other images of the story, I googled paintings of this passage. They are all fairly similar. Unlike my painting, they have Jesus, walking toward a boat and Peter is halfway under water, reaching out to Jesus with panic in his eyes. 


Perhaps you can see one of those paintings in your head right now. Maybe it’s the exact image you had when you heard this passage this morning. 


Peter, halfway under water, reaching out to Jesus, panicked and about to drown. 


I get it. It makes sense. It’s mostly what I think of too. After all, Peter is not exactly the model disciple all the time. 


He’s the one who denied Jesus, after all. 


He also seems to be easily distracted and maybe even a little doubtful in this story. 


That is mostly what I focus on in this story— Peter got out of that boat just to look around, get distracted, and doubt God’s power in Christ Jesus. Then Jesus chastises him and hauls him out of the water. Silly doubting Peter. 


But as I read the story over and over again this past week, I couldn’t help but notice something different. 


Peter had the courage to get out of the boat while everyone else stayed.


Peter saw Jesus out walking on the sea and he wanted so much to be like Jesus that he risked his life to step out of that boat and be on the raging sea beside him. 


Peter was willing to risk his life to be like Jesus.


This is kind of a theme of Peter’s as he does ministry alongside Jesus. He was also the one who misguidedly cut off the soldier’s ear when they came to arrest Jesus in the garden.


This continues in his life after Jesus’ death and resurrection, with his ministry and multiple arrests and even gets fussed at by Paul eventually. Peter is no stranger to stepping out into trouble for Jesus. 


Peter sees Jesus walking on the water, in the middle of a storm, and everyone thinks he is a ghost. But when Peter hears his words of assurance, he can’t help but call out to Jesus and move closer to him. He steps out of the boat into the crashing waves and walks toward Jesus. 


Unlike everyone else, he has the courage to get out of the boat, out of the safety and security, having faith that Jesus will lead him. 


And of course, then next part of the story is that he gets distracted and begins to sink into the water— the part of the story that everyone loves to depict in paintings.  


But no one else even takes the chance. Peter is the only one who has enough faith to step out of the boat, even when he doesn’t know what is going to happen next. 


This is the kind of risk-taking and stepping out that Jesus invites us into in the waters of baptism. This is the kind of faith that is required of us. When Christ bids us follow him, it is not an invitation into a comfortable, easy, care-free life. He invites us into the troubled waters with him, into the chaos of life and death. Jesus calls us out of the comfort of our life before him and into the storm. 


Because now that we know Jesus, now that we understand what his ministry is about and what it means to truly love one another and deeply care for one another, we know that it isn’t a delightful walk in the park. It’s a precarious walk on the sea. 


Instead of buying into the security of this world, with selfishness, greed, property, and wealth— Jesus invites us into something different, something much more risky. He invites us into the Kingdom, that promises true reconciliation, love, vulnerability and peace. And that’s scary. If you have ever loved anyone enough to follow them anywhere, you know that that is scary. Following Jesus is not for the faint of heart. For most of the disciples, it meant following him to their own deaths. 


But the good news is that when the waves get too overwhelming around Peter and he gets distracted, he is not left to drown. Jesus is out in the middle of the storm with him. And Christ reaches out his hand and brings him to safety. God did not leave Peter alone. And then he takes Peter’s faith and builds the whole church from it. That tiny bit of faith that called him out of the boat was what God used to bring about the ministry of the church today. Because we worship a God who takes the tiniest things, the mustard seed and the yeast, and creates abundance. God takes our tiny faith and creates the kingdom. 


God has not left us alone. Despite our distance from one another, and this time when we have had to repeatedly step out of the comfort of our normal, comfortable boat— God has not left us. And when we become distracted and discouraged by the storm and waves raging around us— whatever the storm may be— Jesus is present to lift us out of the water and bring us to safety. So step out of that boat, beloved. Take a risk and follow Christ into that storm of love and vulnerability and faith. Because he is with you. Amen. 

Sunday, August 2, 2020

Notice who shows up - Mandarin Lutheran Church

Matthew 14:13-21

Feeding the Five Thousand
13 Now when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place by himself. But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns. 14 When he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them and cured their sick. 15 When it was evening, the disciples came to him and said, “This is a deserted place, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away so that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves.” 16 Jesus said to them, “They need not go away; you give them something to eat.” 17 They replied, “We have nothing here but five loaves and two fish.” 18 And he said, “Bring them here to me.” 19 Then he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. 20 And all ate and were filled; and they took up what was left over of the broken pieces, twelve baskets full. 21 And those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children.

__________

I originally preached this sermon on July 29, 2020 for the prerecorded service for Mandarin Lutheran Church in Mandarin, Florida that will premiere on Sunday August 2, 2020. You can read my sermon manuscript or watch it on YouTube below. 




In every Bible that I own, and I own quite a few Bibles, this passage is called “the feeding of the five thousand” 

Five thousand, we might think, that really is a miracle. That’s a lot of people to feed with just a couple of fish and loaves of bread. And if we were diving deep into this text, we might talk about exactly how this miracle happened. People love doing that, right— trying to explain miracles as if they aren’t really that miraculous. Maybe all the people saw the disciples take out their loaves and fish and were inspired to share their own food as well. That would make us feel a bit better— that way we don’t have to believe too hard with this miracle. 

But what is most interesting to me in this text is what we miss when we call this the feeding of the five thousand. Five thousand, yes, but, the text says, besides women and children. So really, this miracle is the feeding of 20,000  people or so. This, we might admit, is not so easily written off. 

In campus ministry, we say that if even one person shows up, it’s a miracle. This isn’t a trite saying to make campus ministers feel better about low turn out. We believe that it’s true. But to understand the truth, we have to notice who showed up. We have to be aware of each person as God’s child and their individual needs and gifts in the community. 

Jesus’ followers, the ones longing for his word and teaching, were not just men. They were not just the elite, and they were not just the people in power. 

There were women in their midst, women who were used to preparing food and picking up the scraps. Women who usually set up camp and tended to the fires. Women who kept track of the children and mended the clothing. 

And there were children in their midst. Children who were not considered much more use than dogs until they were old enough to work. Children who took up resources and especially food, while not contributing much to the economics of society. 

And yet… these are the ones Jesus names as precious. These are the ones Jesus continues to show up for, continues to heal and touch and be present with in his ministry. The ones in the background, the ones society claims are useless, the ones we barely ever notice. 

What do we miss when we fail to see who shows up? 

I think of some of the people in the background or in the shadows of our lives, who are making the world turn. They are sanitation workers in our streets, our offices, and our hospitals. They are cooks and janitors in our schools. They are nurses working long hours without any praise. The people who show up in the midst of important events, in the midst of revolutions of love like Jesus are not usually the rich and the powerful. They are usually the downtrodden and the discarded. Because they are the ones who are used to working hard for what they need. They are the ones who know what it’s like to skin their knees or starve for the sake of the kingdom. 

I think of the people who are often unnoticed because they don’t have the most glamorous jobs, but they are needed and so important nonetheless. Not only are people important to the functioning of society, feeding people, keeping them healthy, but they are important to God. The really remarkable thing about Jesus is that he doesn’t love people because of their productivity or how much they work in society. He loves them because they are children of God. And when we fail to see that worth, when we fail to see that every human is made in the image of God, we fail to notice who showed up and why they are so important. Not because of what they do or how much money they are worth, but because they are named and claimed in the waters of baptism as God’s beloved children. 

And the good news is that you are too. Regardless of your productivity level in the middle of this pandemic. Or how much money you’re worth. Or how important society might say your job is. 

You are important enough to be invited to the banquet, to have a seat at the table. You are important enough to be fed. Amen.