Prepare to Repent - Redeemer Episcopal Church

Matthew 3:1-12 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

The Proclamation of John the Baptist

3 In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, 2 “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” 3 This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said,

“The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:

‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.’”
x

4 Now John wore clothing of camel’s hair with a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey. 5 Then the people of Jerusalem and all Judea were going out to him, and all the region along the Jordan, 6 and they were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins.

7 But when he saw many Pharisees and Sadducees coming for baptism, he said to them, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? 8 Bear fruit worthy of repentance. 9 Do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. 10 Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.

11 “I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 12 His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

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This sermon was originally preached by me, Rev. Sarah Locke, at Redeemer Episcopal Church in Jacksonville, Florida on December 8, 2019. You can read the manuscript below, and/or you can listen to the sermon (with infusions from the Spirit) at this link. 

Are you ready? It’s December 8th already. We only have 17 days until Christmas. Panicking yet? 

Even if the weather does not quite show it, it appears that Christmas time is here. Christmas music is playing on the radio, all the displays are out, I saw last Sunday night that Santa is at the mall waiting for his picture to be taken. 

For our college students at UNF and JU, it means finals week is upon us, some of them are graduating, other are gearing up for the seasonal holiday hours at their job. 

For others it means finishing up projects at work or bracing yourself for your children to be out for Christmas break. 

There always seems to be an abundance of things to do to prepare for Christmas: Making lists, checking them twice, if you’re my mother, you’re running around making sure everyone has the exact same number of gifts under the Christmas tree. Lots of other people are still decorating, baking, cooking, and traveling. 

Preparing for Christmas seems a bit more like a sprint than a marathon and, as a pastor, by the end of it, I’m winded and ready to never do it again… until next year. 

But preparing for Christmas seems to look very different than preparing for the coming of Jesus. 

In the text this morning, we hear the words of John the Baptizer, the man who was called and sent to prepare people for the coming of Jesus. Like a prologue of a book, or a prelude in our worship service, John tells the people what is about to happen. He preps them for something that is better and more important than himself. But it doesn’t sound much like shopping and baking and decorating. 

“Repent,” John says, “for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”

He continues, “I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.”

So what does it mean to John to prepare for Christmas? Well, it means preparing for the coming of Jesus, and he says we won’t be ready for that until we repent and recognize that a Jesus’ birth marks a new age— something wild and new and wonderful that we could never even dream of. 

Repentance is not necessarily the word we would immediately associate with Advent and Christmas preparation. For one thing, here in this Episcopal church, as well as many others across the country, we use the hopeful and anticipatory color blue for Advent instead of the repentant and penitential purple that other congregations might use, the same color we use for Lent in the spring. 

But it seems that repentance is of utmost importance to John, and throughout the gospel according to Matthew, we will see this liturgical year, that it is also very important to Jesus. 

It is important that we prepare our hearts and our minds and our attitudes for Jesus. We are reminded to do this figuratively throughout Advent, but what we will celebrate on Christmas Day is not only the miracle of Jesus coming to be with us in the form of a tiny baby, marking the beginning of the coming of the Kingdom of God, but also looking forward to the day when he will return to us, at the end of time, when Isaiah’s prophecy will be completely fulfilled in God’s promise. 

Repentance, at its core, means to change direction, to pick a different course, to turn around. And that is what John is asking the listeners— and us— to do. John’s sole calling is to alert people to the fact that what they are doing is out of step with God’s purpose and desire for their lives and for all of creation. “You brood of vipers,” John accuses, something new is happening and you’d better be ready for it. And that newness is what Isaiah describes: a time when there will be no predator and prey, no fear or hatred, no anger or rebellion. There will be peace, reconciliation, equity, and grace. Paths that are straight and lives that are full. 

Repentance, John says, turning toward this peace, reconciliation, equity, and grace, is the first step in joining Jesus in this new world and in this new kingdom. 

That is my favorite thing about John the Baptizer. He minimizes himself in order to glorify the one who will come after him. All that he does and all that he is points to the one who will save us with baptism in the spirit, with his birth, life, death, and resurrection. John points to the one who embodies what it looks like for us to repent. 

So how do we prepare for the coming of Jesus? How do we prepare for Christmas? Repent. Be transformed by this age-old story and change direction. Turn from idolatry, violence, injustice, exploitation, slavery, and scarcity— and turn toward devotion, peace, justice, equity, freedom, and abundance— turn toward God and the one whom we await on Christmas morning and on the last day, Christ our Lord. Amen. 

On being left behind

I've moved about eighteen times in my life. I am quite used to getting settled in a place for about a year, then packing all of my things and starting over again in another place. What I am not used to, however, is being left behind.

I started thinking about being left behind as I listened to the first lesson last Sunday. The disciples watched as Jesus ascended into heaven, then were scolded for looking up to where he had gone into the clouds. I cannot imagine what the disciples must have been feeling as they watched the Lord ascend into heaven (Acts 1:9-11). You see, I am not used to being left behind.

I have always been the one to leave a place first. When I left for undergrad, I had to go early to start my job, making me one of the first of my friends to leave for college. I was the first one of my three roommates to move out of my dorm room after our first year. Even through seminary, I did not waste any time moving out of the dorm and into my apartment or up to Durham to be with Daniel. But now I find myself being left behind and I feel like one of the disciples looking up at the sky going, Okay, so what's next? 

In the past week, there have been a half a dozen moving trucks moving my beloved classmates on to their next adventure, most of them heading to internship or Clinical Pastoral Education for the summer. Others were headed to camp or to vacation. Many of our friends have not left quite yet, but they are making plans are will probably not be around much longer. As I hear each person talk about their plans for the next few months I find myself feeling a combination of anxious, jealous, and angry. We have no plans and we aren't going anywhere. I'm feeling quite left behind.

I imagine God peering at the disciples as Jesus ascends into heaven, thinking Come on now, you've work to do, don't just stand there. I am trying to remind myself the words of Acts... "You don't get to know the time. Timing is God's business. What you'll get is the Holy Spirit" (paraphrased from The Message, Acts 1:7-8). I am not entirely sure I am comforted by the words, but they're there. And I keep reading them.

And we do have work to do. We are called in this time more than ever to love one another fiercely and not let this time of anxious waiting come between us. We are called to love those who are left behind with us, and nurture the relationships with those who have left us. We are called to smile and nod as people tell us the Spirit is at work. And, I suppose, we are called, as we feel left behind, to keep repeating those words (whether we fully believe them or not)... You don't get to know the time. Timing is God's business. What you'll get is the Holy Spirit.

The Expedition

A friend and colleague shared this poem as we considered how to leave our congregations and say goodbye "well." I don't know if there is a way to say goodbye well to the people who have captured my heart and lovingly pulled me into their family so quickly and fully, but I will try and try again until I have expended enough words on these loved ones. So tonight I share not my own words, but the words of another, more poetic writer... 


The Expedition 

by Anthony de Mello

My time here has come to an end, 

And I think of the days that I have spent in these surroundings.

I see an image of myself as I was when I came here

And I look at my self as I am today

At the close of this time.

I think of the persons and places that have been a part of my time here.

To each of them I speak in gratitude.

And to each I say goodbye. 

Other places, other persons call to me,

and I must go. 

I think of the experiences I have had,

The graces I have been granted

In this place.

For each of these too, I am grateful.

I think of the kind of life I have lived here,

The atmosphere, the daily schedule.

I say goodbye:

Another type of life awaits me,

Other graces, other experiences.

And I say goodbye to persons,

places, 

things, 

events,

experiences,

and graces, 

I do so under life's imperious biddings.

If I wish to be alive

I must learn to die at every moment.

That is, to say goodbye, let go, move on. 

When this is done, I turn to face the future

And I say, "Welcome."

I think of the work that waits for me,

The people I shall meet,

The type of life I shall be living, 

The events that will take place tomorrow.

And I extend my arms in welcome

To the summons of the future.

Prepaid Cell Phones & Grace

Ephesians 2:18-22

For through [Jesus] we both have access in one Spirit to the Father. So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone, in whom the whole structure, being joined together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord. In him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit.

These two verses have been showing up on my Facebook newsfeed a lot lately.  Typically the posts are directed toward conservative immigration reform, but I've been (thankfully) disconnected from American politics for about two weeks now so I have been considering these verses in a different light. 

I am humbled and amazed by the hospitality of the people here in Malaysia.  We have been invited to so many dinners, lunches, and other gatherings over the last two weeks.  People we barely know have picked us up to take us to church and Bible study.  There have been various parishioners who have gracefully corrected our ways of eating traditional meals and were gracious when foods were too spicy for us to endure.  

Even strangers have been incredibly helpful and welcoming to us. One particular story from the past week comes to mind.

We received cell phones from my supervisor when we arrived in Malaysia with the instructions to "fill them up," meaning we need to put more minutes on the prepaid cell card. Totally oblivious about how to do this, we Googled it, hoping we would be able to do virtually everything online for the first few days in-country.  Unfortunately, we weren't able to do anything with our phones online but discovered that we could go to any 7/11 and reload our phones.  

So we went. 

And as if we don't stand out enough as foreigners, we are also probably the only people in the country who don't know how to reload our phones.  So the sweet woman behind the counter refrained from laughing at us, took our money, and handed us the receipt. 

And we looked at her blankly. "So, it's reloaded?" I asked. She pointed to the receipt in my hand and I noticed the long code number printed there. "Umm..." I had no idea what I was supposed to do. 

"I will do it," she helpfully replied.  I handed the phone back over with the receipt and she entered the number, showing me how to reload my phone with minutes.  

Then it was Daniel's turn. For one reason or another, Daniel's code wouldn't go through. It kept directing him to customer service.  So we stood in the 7/11 and tried over and over again. Finally, we went back to the woman behind the counter and asked her to help us.  

The poor woman called customer service, called her manager, re-entered the code, called her manager again, and called customer service again. She was dead set on helping us poor Americans figure out this phone problem. Unfortunately, nothing worked. You could tell that she was just as defeated as we were when we asked for a refund. 

I won't forget that woman. Not because we now know how to reload minutes on our cell phones, but because she was so helpful and so gracious to a completely lost couple in a new place.  She didn't have to stand there for fifteen to twenty minutes trying to solve a problem that wasn't her own.  But she did.  And it made me feel a little bit at home, as if we weren't such silly outsiders in this country.  I don't know why she was so gracious so us, but I am so thankful that she was. 

Slaughtered Sheep

I have a friend who owns a farm out in Pomaria, a very small town outside of Columbia.  One day he got a call from a family asking to buy a sheep.  Skeptical to sell one of his sheep to a stranger, but forever the optimist, he invited the family out to his farm.  The family came, bought the sheep, and asked him if they could have a bucket of water and have a picnic under one of the big trees on the property that afternoon. He agreed and watched a ritual he had never seen before.  

The family prayed over the sheep and calmed it down with their soothing voices.  They slowly revealed a blade and slit the sheep’s throat, allowing the blood to run onto the ground.  When the blood was drained from the sheep’s body, it was skinned, and cut apart so that every single part of the sheep could be used for various things - the skin, bones, stomach - it was all packed away for the family to use later.  They stayed for hours, making sure that every piece of sheep would have a purpose.  When my friend later walked out to the place under the tree where the sheep had been slaughtered, he was surprised to find that there was barely any trace of the sheep left - just a little blood on the grass.  

As my friend told me this story, I asked him, “weren’t you upset that they slaughtered one of your sheep?”  He shrugged and said, “It wasn’t my sheep.  The sheep belonged to them and they can use it however they want to use it. I’m just glad they used the whole thing. Nothing went to waste.”  

When I think about that family and that sheep, I think about all of the parts of an animal that I would have absolutely no use for.  What do you do with the eyes? The horns? The hooves?  Even if you are able to eat most of the meat of the sheep, what are you going to do with the intestines? The bones?  

But the sheep was precious to these people.  They knew the great wealth in using every part of the sheep.  They understood what it meant to own something and use the entire thing.  

The shepherds of Jesus’ time understood this too.  The sheep belonged to the shepherd so the shepherd was able to use the sheep in whatever way he chose.  The shepherd recognized that every single part of the sheep was precious.  Some parts we would expect - bones being made into sewing needles - but some parts being considered so diligently and uniquely - the stomach sew to carry water.  

Nothing was wasted because the shepherd knew that each sheep was precious and worth being used.  He also simply couldn’t afford to waste any part of the sheep.

When the sheep are all you have to secure the future of your family, you are very careful and particular about how you use the sheep.  Without an abundance of healthy sheep, the shepherd would risk the wellbeing of his family.  Without their sheep they would have no livelihood.   

Just as we invest in our future and our family’s future with stocks, bonds, retirements funds, real estate and life insurance, shepherds invested in the future of their family by nurturing a large, healthy flock.  A growing flock meant a future, an inheritance, for the shepherd’s offspring.  

So when we understand how much the flock means to the shepherd, it is no surprise that a good shepherd would lay down his life for his sheep. He is not only protecting his pets or his income, but his future and his family’s future. 

In this passage, Jesus makes a promise to his people, his flock.  He commits his life to the wellbeing of the sheep, he declares that he will do everything it takes to protect them, keep them safe - even to the point to death.  What he is promising is a future - an inheritance for his family. 

But we are not only the inheritors of the sheep - the inheritors of the wool, blankets, and meat that came from the sheep.  Jesus says that we are the sheep.  We are the ones that will be slaughtered and used at the will of the shepherd to whom we belong.  And the crazy part is that God is using not just the good parts, not just our gifts, but also our faults, our failures, our sins for God’s purposes.  God wants all of us - every piece of skin, bone, and stomach - leaving nothing unused.  

I read a news article this week about a new first person video game.  It’s called Outcasted and in the game, the player is posed as a homeless person begging for change in a random location.  There are no levels, no achievements.  The only way you are able to interact with another character is to hold their eye contact, hold out your hand, and ask for money.  The makers of the game hope that it will help people better empathize with the monotony and despair that homeless people feel on a daily basis.  And it has worked.  It is changing the way people walk through their lives, making them think twice about ignoring the man sitting outside the grocery store every afternoon. 

God is using everything - even the weird stuff.  Not just the improved parts of us or the successful parts of us.  Not just our great singing voices or our steady hands.  God is using our quick tempers and our low self esteem.  God is using our deep rooted prejudices and our crumbling marriages.  God can and will use every part of us for God’s purposes.  And sometimes that involves what feels like to be slaughtered.  

Jesus never tells us that we will be shielded from potential danger in the pasture.  He never says that he won’t lead us to the edge of a cliff or into the midst of wolves. But what he does say is that he will gather us in, keep us together.  He will come after us when we stray.  He says that when the wolves come to prey on us - and they will - that he will lay down his life to protect us.  Because we are part of the flock, we can trust that when the Spirit leads us to frightening places, uncomfortable places, Christ is with us.  His voice calls our names and comforts us.  We are protected and provided for.  

Miss Martha is about four foot nine.  She is a tiny, fierce lady in her late sixties. Miss Martha is unemployed.  She lives in a small one-bedroom house in a run down part of the neighborhood with her tiny dog Miko.  She has two industrial sized freezers that stay stocked with chickens, ground beef, and an assortment of vegetables.  Her garage is packed with rice, beans, bread, and anything else a family could want for - “only the healthy stuff,” she tells you with a knowing nod.  

Miss Martha is unemployed, but she is not jobless. Miss Martha feeds all of the hungry families in her neighborhood.  And in that neighborhood, there are more than a few hungry families.  She recognizes her call to be a mother to all, a provider, a nurturing hand and kind heart.  “My call comes from God,” she says, “and my ability to do my call comes from God.”  

Miss Martha makes absolutely no money doing what she does. She is only able to give because of the generosity God has put in the hearts of the people around her.  Several times a week, church members, high schoolers, businesspeople will come through the gate of her chain link fence bearing gifts - bags of food for the neighbors, carts of frozen food, and checks for Miss Martha’s electricity or water. 

I once asked Miss Martha if she ever got worried that she would run out of food for the neighborhood or money to pay her electric bill.  She smiled and said, “Oh no. God made a promise that God would provide. You believe that, you don’t ever have to worry.”  

Miss Martha recognizes that she was being called by God to an uncomfortable, challenging, holy place.  She has faith that God will provide her with everything she needs and in her faith she has the freedom to let herself be used by God.  And God uses her to do God’s will - God uses every part of Miss Martha, the good and the bad, her mistakes and her passion.  Even in the moments of most discomfort - when she receives a late notice on her bill - when she cannot afford to buy food - she trusts in God’s provision.  

Many of us do not have the same trust in God that Miss Martha has.  It is why we cling so tightly to the image of Christ’s hesitation in the garden.  Yes! We know what that feels like.  Yet the cross is so mind-boggling to us.  We cannot wrap our heads around that kind of faith.  Jesus had faith in God that God would provide.  He was able to go to the slaughter with a calm heart and steady hand because he had faith in the resurrection.  He knew that he belonged to God and would be used according to God’s will.  

It is the great paradox of our faith.  In order to follow God, we will be led by the Spirit to uncomfortable places, places that often times look like the cross of Christ.  We are led to these places by the same God that promises to keep us safe, to redeem us and the entire world.  And it is in those uncomfortable places that God most clearly reveals God’s redemptive power.  

Having the faith to be led to these challenging, holy places is what the kingdom of God looks like.  Dwelling in the uneasiness of being slaughtered will change our lives. It will challenge us to shake hands, hug, and sincerely say “peace be with you” to the man who mugged you at the grocery store.  It will challenge us to approach the same communion rail with a person who has abused her spouse or his child.  It will bring us to share a hymnal with the outspoken racist.  It will give us the freedom to lay down our lives for one another so that they might live, so that there might be an inheritance and a future for the ones who come after us.  

A Million Different Pieces

I spent ten days of January in Honduras. Everyone has asked, "What was your favorite part?"

Easiest question in the world.

The kids.


We spent six days in Santa Cruz- a small village of about 120 people perched on the side of a mountain.  It was on the side of this mountain that I fell in love at least a half a dozen times.

Toya. Maria. Margarita. René. Nelson. Cecilia. Mariven. Belkis. Karin.


I wish I could have taken them all home with me. I was absolutely torn in half to leave them. There is nothing I wouldn't give to be sitting on the front porch of the school, giggling with the girls and waiting for them to tickle me and whisper silly Spanish things to me every time I looked the other way. I'd give everything to see Nelson smiling at me before breakfast in the morning. I can't describe how much I wish I could see René's silly smile after he pokes me during worship service.

Everything was amazing in Honduras. We couldn't have asked for better weather, we were in the most beautiful mountains I've ever seen in my life, we ate incredibly good food. Serving people in the clinic was really awesome. Watching the men redo everything Aly and I contributed while doing construction was hilarious.

But nothing compares to the kids. Their joy and smiles and laughter have split my heart into a million different pieces. Even Jesus is going to have a hard time putting me back together this time.

Why it hurt so bad was hard to put my finger on at the time. It had everything and more to do with the fact that I just adore children, plain and simple. I'd start adopting them now if that was legal (or logical), but the adoption laws in Honduras prevent me from adopting children until I am 25 years old (yes, I researched this).

But the other part of me knew there was something different about these kids.  I am heartbroken over the fact that Cecilia should be having sleepovers and being silly at 14 years old instead of taking care of her three younger siblings, cooking for her family, and realizing she only has a few more years until she will be married and raising her own children.

I am heartbroken over the fact that Mariven was the only person around to care for her almost deaf and blind grandmother. She will never have a normal childhood. She is only eight years old.

I am heartbroken because many of the young boys who should be playing soccer all day long are working in the fields owned by wealthy men. Spraying vegetables with pesticides that are likely to kill them or give them chronic health problems by the time they are forty. Earning about a dollar a day.

I am heartbroken because they haven't named the precious two month old that they brought to the clinic. They would wait to be sure the baby lived a little longer before naming her.

I am heartbroken because I have lived 21 years on this earth without knowing them and loving them. I have lived a comfortable life and it makes me hurt for them. It makes me hurt for the entire world, because this is not the only community or country with such poverty and oppression.  I am heartbroken because my church ignores it.

The same people who call themselves Christians elect corrupt politicians and buy their food from places that use a cushiony version of slave labor. I am that Christian. I am that person that doesn't deserve to be called a Christian.

I haven't been living my life the way Christ wants me to be living my life.
I don't know how to fix it.
I wish I had a good solution.
I know it is not as easy as people wanted it to be.

But I know that it starts with exactly what happened in Honduras. It starts with falling in love with Christ and falling in love with your neighbor.

I just don't know where to go from here.

Ruin me for the ordinary

This is the prayer I had taped to my rearview mirror for several months this past year. When it finally flew off while my windows were down, I thought maybe it was a sign that I needed to find a new prayer.

What I didn't realize until later was that this prayer, clearly visible to anyone riding in my car and very obnoxious to anyone who drives it, was pushing me toward constant prayer. I would get in my car, read it, and truly mean it every single day. I wanted God to ruin me. I didn't want to be comfortable anymore. I wanted my heart to be broken.

Well, if you know anything about my life this past year, God has done just that. I was uncomfortable, broken, and completely ruined.

But it was so good.

Now that I am starting seminary I am afraid that it is exactly where I am supposed to be. Why should I be afraid of that? Because I don't want to be comfortable. I need to be able to challenge myself. They won't let me take additional classes (yet) and I am afraid that I am going to have a very light schedule for my first semester.

So I have promised myself that if I am bored or even if I am slightly comfortable, I am going to push myself into uncomfortable and ruining situations.

I want my heart to be broken at injustice and cruelty, poverty and prejudice. I want my heart to break for the things that break God's heart. I know what that means. I know it means I am going to hurt. A lot. And I know that ruining me for the ordinary means that I will never be okay with myself in comfortable situations. I will never want an ordinary life. I know that is going to be challenging. But I am so desperate for Jesus that it doesn't matter anymore.

God isn't supposed to be comfortable to be around. My friend has a theory that, as a fallen humanity, we are not able to be naturally close to God. God is so incredibly good compared to us that we can't even fathom it.  That is why when we do things to be closer to God, whether it is turning the other cheek, forgiving over and over again, meditating, or loving people who we don't feel deserve our love- we are uncomfortable.  It doesn't feel good most of the time. Love hurts. Vulnerability hurts. But that is what brings us closer to God.

I need to keep pushing myself toward God. I don't know what that means yet, but I have a feeling that just knowing that it needs to happen is a step in the right direction.

Labels: I'm not done talking.

When I was younger (let's say about 12 and 13 years old), I met my best friend. I was wearing red pants on the first day of school and it was a match made in heaven. What most people didn't know was that I was wearing red pants because I had posed in front of the giant 4x8 foot Bush-Cheney 2004 sign in my parents' front yard. But she could tell I was political. More than that, she knew I was on her side- a conservative.

I remained political throughout junior high school. I got into political arguments on a regular basis. I was as conservative as they come. I was adorned with elephants and wore red all the time to show my pride.

Why was I conservative? A lot of people would probably say it is because my parents were. That's where we get it to begin with, right? But I think my parents ended up being more political because of me, not the other way around.

I was a Republican because my dad was in the military and a lot of people I cared about were in the military and I knew that the conservatives in office were looking out for them better than the liberals. That was the basis for my political affiliation.

I grew up thinking you could only be in one category. You had to be a part of "us" or "them."  I think a lot of people grew up with that same stereotype. You had to be liberal or conservative. You had to be a boy or a girl. You had to be an athlete or a theater geek.

It wasn't until my junior year of high school that I figured out I had been lied to. Surprise: you didn't have to be in just one group. You are allowed to agree with some views and disagree with others. In fact, I learned, most people are just like that- not many Republicans agree with every single agenda item on the Republican Party platform. And that goes for almost every other group affiliation as well.

I'm allowed to be a Lutheran without agreeing with every single thing Lutheran doctrine states. I'm allowed to be a conservative liberal. Even though 7th grade me would have scoffed at that.

I'm allowed to believe that justice is the goal of the government but without invading other people's rights in the process of achieving it.

I'm allowed to believe that the Church has some things wrong. I'm allowed to believe that right wing Republicans have a lot of things wrong. But I can also believe that Democrats have some things wrong as well.

It is hard coming back to Virginia where most people are Republican- really Republican- and trying to explain the ways in which I have changed. I have even had people ask me, "you're still a good young Republican, right?"

I don't want to be put in the group with Republicans. Not because I don't like them, but because I don't like labels. Think of what kind of other labels people might put on me if I say I'm Republican-

Homophobic
Gun-slinger
War monger
Elitist
Unsympathetic to the poor
Country hick

And what kind of stereotypes come up if I say I'm liberal?

Hippie
Socialist
Gay (I've heard it)
Uneducated
Tree hugger
Pussyfoot (heard that too)

So I say I'm a conservative liberal. What can people say to that? Besides that I'm confused. And I'm okay with that. Don't put labels on me.

I'm allowed to believe in traditional marriage and fight for gay rights.
I'm allowed to call myself a Christian and believe that sometimes abortions are okay.
I'm allowed to feed the homeless and feel that the welfare system needs an overhaul.
I'm allowed to live in a country with a representative democracy and wish I was living in the Kingdom of God instead.

Think about it: we aren't even allowed to label ourselves or other people. Who labeled the can of soup you eat? The people who created it. Who labels the shoes you wear? The creator of the shoes. Who labels the computer you're reading from? The people who made the computer.

So who gets to label you? Only God. And His labels are perfect:

You are precious: Isaiah 43:4
You are one of a kind: Psalm 139:14
You are favored: Psalm 5:12
You are blessed: Deuteronomy 28:1-14
You are loved: John 3:16

Hippies, Politics, & Rainbows - Oh My!

Dear Jesus, thank You for bringing people into our lives to change our minds. Thank You for bringing people into our lives to challenge our beliefs. Thank You for bringing change to a nation that has stood blind to oppression for so many years. Lord, please continue Your work. And please be with the people who wish to reverse the work of Your Holy Spirit. We pray for them now, Lord, that you may soften their hearts and show them love. And be with the people who have not yet seen the fruits of your work. Let me feel Your comforting embrace and know that You are with them. Amen

_________________________________________________

My general rule in politics is this: if it is not infringing upon my rights as an individual or business-- if it is giving more rights and freedoms to more people without infringing on mine, yippee!--, and as long as it is not threatening my safety or the safety of my fellow citizens of the world, I'm pretty okay with it. There's gray area of course. But in general, that's how I figure out if I am for or against an issue.

It seems a little bit hippie (so I've heard), but it is my own model. I can be hippie if I want.

So here is my reaction to the Supreme Court decision that homosexuals can marry in California:

Hooray! I'm so excited for people who are being granted more freedoms!
Hooray! States rights!

But, you protest, I am a Christian. How could I believe that gay marriage is okay? Nay, I say, I am a Jesus lover and follower of Christ, not a Christian (but that is neither here nor there). Well... I believe that love comes from God. And if God made it possible for two same-sex people to love one another so much that they want to get married, go for it.

Here's what I'm against:
Forcing heterosexual people to marry homosexuals. They're not doing that, right?
Forcing homosexuals to marry one another. They're not doing that, right?
Forcing heterosexuals to marry one another. They're not doing that, right?
Restricting the rights of heterosexuals to marry the person they love. They're not doing that, right?
Restricting the rights of homosexuals to marry the person they love. They're just starting to wrap their heads around that!

What is it hurting? Yeah yeah we, as a nation, are founded on Christian principles yadda yadda.

The same men who founded this country on Christian principles also owned slaves. Wanna go back to that?
The same men who founded this country on Christian principles also had children with those slaves. I'm pretty sure adultery is a sin.

Where do we draw the line? You want Christian principles back in this country? Let's stone women again. Let's outlaw anything that is an abomination in God's eyes.

Adultery = outlawed
Masturbation = outlawed
Women on their period in public = outlawed
Sex before marriage = outlawed
Using God's name in vain = outlawed
Disrespecting your parents = outlawed

What good would it do anyway? This nation used to outlaw black people from drinking at certain water fountains. Did that stop them from being black? This used to restrict Native Americans to a certain piece of land. Did that stop them from being Native Americans? We can outlaw gay marriage, but it will not stop people from being homosexual.

I know people who would change if they could. They have hurt enough. But it is not a decision, it is not a behavior- they were born homosexuals. It cannot be cured and it cannot be outlawed. If we can ease the pain for people who have been outcast and squash the stigma that homosexuality is some sort of disease or "issue" we need to fix, let's do it. Human beings should not suffer.

Here's my (other) issue with Christians:

We (heterosexual Christians) are not affected in ANY way by homosexuals being able to marry one another.

We are, however, being watched very closely for our reactions to changes like this. If Christians continue to be sticks in the mud about progress and change, we will die out faster than you can say a Hail Mary.

What good does it do for our Church to look at sinners and say, "God hates you for what you are doing and I do too?"

Our generation should be looking for new ways to show the same people- homosexuals, heterosexuals, Native Americans, foreign immigrants, the oppressed, the victimized- that God loves them no matter what. We are all sinners. No one is exempt from God's judgement. We have all been bought by the Blood of Christ Jesus.

I just think a lot of people would live happier lives if they were more concerned with loving their neighbor than hating anyone who sins. But then again, I'm probably just a hippie.

This I (sort of) Believe

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about the difference between what we want to believe and what we actually do believe.

And it has been tearing me apart.


I want to believe a lot of things:

I want to believe that humanity is good at heart.
I want to believe that people who do cruel things are the exception, not the rule.
I want to believe that the government is going to protect our rights.
I want to believe that the God of today is more like the God of the New Testament and less like the God of the Old Testament.
I want to believe that when bad things happen it is not always because God is teaching us a lesson.
I want to believe that the financial insecurity of being a pastor will not interfere with my plans for a family and a future.
I want to believe that I can be without luxuries and not complain.
I want to believe that there are many more good people than hurtful people in the world.

I want to believe these things. I'm not sure I'm quite there yet. Social media and mainstream media hurts my beliefs in many ways. The news likes to reports all of the "oh no's" of the world, not the "oh yeses!"  I think it hurts a lot of people's faith, not just mine. It is hard being an upbeat Christian when much of the world around you seems to be saying that everything is going wrong and people are cruel.

With school shootings, kidnapping, and genocide, it is really hard to look at humanity and believe that it is really a nice group with which to be associated. I don't want to be a part of this fallen world, but the reality is that I am. And as a part of it, I am constantly searching for that small bit of hope in a world that is telling me there is none. I think many people in the older generation don't believe the children and grandchildren they raised can be joyful in a world of despair. I think it is hard for everyone in every generation. But I think our generation is more willing to look for what gives us hope. We won't take "despair" for an answer.

On this day, when I learned that one of my childhood best friends committed suicide... I'm looking for hope. I'm looking for something to cling to. I'm looking for joy in the midst of sorrow.

Jesus is my hope.

Jesus is what turns my "I want to believe" into "I really do believe" on a daily basis. My faith is small and still growing, so my hope is not always as well-developed as I would like it to be. But it is there. Jesus is the reason my psychological assessment reads, "she often views the world through rose-colored glasses." Jesus is my rose-colored glasses.

I DO believe that God has a plan for my life and for the lives of everyone in this world.
I DO believe that I can learn from the mistakes that I have made as well as the mistakes of others.
I DO believe that although we are fallen, God has given us new hope in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
I DO believe that my gifts and my call has led me to seminary this fall, despite and because of everything that this life has put me through.
I DO believe that I am saved.
I DO believe that everyone in the entire world is saved.

That is what I cling to. Don't we deserve a little hope in a world that seems to be falling apart around us? Don't we deserve to be called "beloved?"

Boxes

I am a conservative.

I am a liberal. 

I am a tree hugger. 

I am an army brat. 

I am a hippie. 

I am a lover. 

I am a hater. 

I am a child. 

I am an adult. 

I am a sister 

I am a daughter. 

I am a prude. 

I am a slut. 

I am a princess. 

I am a country girl. 

I am a feminist. 

I am old fashioned. 

I am new-age. 

I am a Lutheran. 

I am nondenominational. 

I am a book worm. 

I am a movie lover. 

I am a photographer. 

I am a student. 

I am a teacher. 

I am young. 

I am old. 

I am American. 

I am a citizen of the world. 

I am a fighter. 

I am a victim. 

I am classy. 

I am trashy. 

I am modern. 

I am antiquated. 

None of these labels are me in my entirety. 

All of my labels that I put on myself come with explanations because I can't fit in the box of everyone else's expectations.

I am not the labels I put on myself. 

I am not the labels other people put on me. 

I have only one label that does not require an explanation: 

I am a child of God.

I am more than what the world sees in me. I am even more than what I see in myself.

The only person that knows everything about me and can read all of my thoughts and feelings- the only one who knows everything that has, is, and will happen. Is my God. Why do I keep imagining that if I can just fit into one of these boxes perfectly then I will be happy?

I know that I won't be. God didn't make me like that. God didn't make you like that. He didn't want cookie-cutter beautiful little creations as the world would like to see "beautiful."

He made each of us unique. He made each of us with flaws and scars and birthmarks and a history.

We are told that we are made in God's image. Think about that. What if we tried to fit God into a box. It's not easy- I've tried. He's mean, cruel, forgiving, loving, powerful, let willing to give us free will.

We can't put God in a box. So we have no business trying to put ourselves or each other in boxes. 

Women of Valor

I read A Year of Biblical Womanhood by Rachel Held Evans few months ago and completely fell in love with it. I never got around to writing a blog post about it because I finished it when I was in the middle of moving into my new place and I was spending an incredible amount of time with my boyfriend who is no longer long distance (for the next two months at least).

So a few days ago I decided I needed to buckle down and write something. I did what I almost always do before writing: I brainstormed. Then when nothing came up (I lose inspiration unbelievably quickly), I decided to Google Image "women of valor," one of Rachel's big themes in her book. 

I must say I was really disappointed by what Google turned up:

Here are two beautiful women (of today's standards) in medieval clothing, doing things that men usually do (playing with bows and arrows and knighting a man).  What?

Why do "women of valor" have to be "women who do what men do?"  Why can't women of valor be women who do housework exceptionally well (my mother) or women who pray relentlessly for people (my grandmother) or women who cook amazing meals for their families on a regular basis (my future sister-in-law) or women who live every day broken hearted by the world and wishing that the Kingdom of God was now (my best friend)?  

I'm not necessarily one for "feminism," at least not the way it seems to be used today. I'm a fan of men holding the door open for me and pulling out my chair. In a lot of ways, this idea of "biblical womanhood" sounded really nice to me. Yeah, maybe I don't want to make my own clothes, but I don't really have too much of a problem with cooking for my family every night or taking care of the finances.  

But I am a little put off by feminists who believe that to be a strong, independent woman you must do all the things men do and receive as much or more recognition for it. Why can't I be a strong woman who decided to raise a family and stay at home for the first twenty years of marriage instead of becoming a lawyer or a doctor? Doesn't it take just as much hutzpah to raise a few kids?

I don't believe in the feminist movement that is out to prove that women are the same as men. 

We aren't. Intellectually, motivationally, sexually, emotionally- we are not the same creatures.  God made us different. God made woman the man's helpmate. Meaning men rely on us as much as we rely on them. We cannot function or reproduce by ourselves. And we are not the same.

I'm not saying that men and women should not have equal opportunities in employment and education. But please don't try to tell me that I am a better woman of valor than my mother just because she decided to stay at home to raise two kids and I have a degree and I'm going into a "man's profession."  Just don't. 

In fact, most of the women of valor in my life are just like my mother- women who have sacrificed and lived in such a way to give more to their children and their husbands than they give to themselves. They have lived Christ-like lives with pain and sacrifice and love beyond measure. And nothing, in my opinion, seems more valorous than that.

"Woman of valor" in Hebrew is translated eschet chayil. 

With that being said, women who find their calling in being teachers: eschet chayil!

Women who find themselves being mothers: eschet chayil!

Women who find themselves being soldiers: eschet chayil!

Women who find themselves being followers of Christ: eschet chayil!

Women who find themselves being promoters of justice: eschet chayil!

Women who find themselves being wives: eschet chayil!

Women who find themselves being single and strong: eschet chayil!

Women who find themselves being single and broken: eschet chayil!

Women who find themselves overcoming sickness of the heart, brain, or body: eschet chayil!

Women who find themselves living exactly how they wish to live: eschet chayil!

Women who find themselves being brave despite the world: eschet chayil!

Women who find themselves being brave because of the world: eschet chayil!

Women who are going to grad school: eschet chayil!

Women who are bosses: eschet chayil!

Women who are their own bosses: eschet chayil!

Women who have suffered and still live to tell the story: eschet chayil! 

Women whose stories we continue to tell: eschet chayil!

Women whose stories we have forgotten: eschet chayil!

Women whose only Master is the Lord: eschet chayil!

Praying

There are a lot of things I'm not good at. Like playing basketball. And math. And remembering dates. 

And praying aloud.

How do you pray? (Seriously, I want to know...)

Are you one to say everything out loud so fast that you barely remember what you said?
Do you raise your hands above your head and speak slowly, putting thought into every word?
Some people think it in their minds and in their hearts, do you?

I don't think there is a right way to pray. God hears us always, no matter what we say or do not say. 

I am not that great at praying aloud in front of people. Or even just Ronnie. My words don't make sense and usually I end up babbling about all the atrocities that break my heart in the world. That's fine and great, but I am going to be a pastor, and as such, I am going to be praying in front of people a lot. And probably from the seat of my pants. Wippee.  

I am trying to be better about praying aloud, but until then I will continue my prayers in my journal where I can go back and reflect on them in the future. 

I have a thing for the written word as opposed to the spoken word sometime. 

Therefore, for part of our Lenten sacrifice, Ronnie and I have been going through the Book of Psalms. I love it because of its prayers and beautiful imagery. 

So today I started writing out some of my favorite verses and it sort of developed into two prayers that I fell in love with. 

I want to share them with you because a) I'm proud of them (you know, because I can brag about verses in the Bible) and b) I think a lot of people have trouble with prayers and I'm hoping that maybe these prayers will help someone talk to God a little more comfortably. 

Morning Prayer

Lord, remind me how brief my time on earth will be. Remind me that my days are numbered- how fleeting my life is (39:4). God has made a home in the heavens for the sun. It bursts forth like a radiant bridegroom after his wedding. It rejoices like a great athlete eager to run the race (19:5). Thank you for letting the sun rise on me again, Lord. Show me the right path. O Lord; point out the road for me to follow. Lead me by your truth and teach me, for you are the God who saves me. All day long I put my hope in you (25:4,5). Listen to my voice in the morning, Lord. Each morning I bring my requests to you and wait expectantly (5:3). 

Evening Prayer

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing to you, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer (19:14). I am praying to you because I know you will answer, O God. Bend down and listen as I pray (17:6). Hear me as I pray O Lord. Be merciful and answer me (27:7)! How can I know all the sins lurking in my heart? Cleanse me from these hidden faults (19:12). No wonder my heart is glad, and I rejoice. My body rests in safety (16:9). In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, O Lord, will keep me safe (4:8). 

I hope these help someone talk to God. That's what the Psalms are for anyway, right? 

Lent: Take Two

Most people are pretty familiar with fasting, even if they don't practice it on a regular basis.

There are periods of time when Jewish people are supposed to fast (usually from sun up to sun down), Catholics like to fast from things like meat during Lent. Lutherans pretend they get to choose what to fast from during Lent.

The disciples mostly fasted during religious holidays and festivals (you know, because they were Jewish) and women fasted when they were in a time of mourning.

I don't really know if any other denominations or religious groups make use of fasting during certain periods, so I won't go making anything up.

Anyway, I was thinking about how Ronnie and I fasted for a few weeks more than Lent this past Spring (go us, right?) and how amazing it was to take superfluous things out of our lives and focus on prayer and meditating on the Bible.

Let me in on a little secret: I am happy. I'm doing pretty good right now. I can't really think of things to complain about besides the amount of gas I have to put in my car. I'm doing alright.

Do you know how much harder it is to talk to God when you don't have anything to complain about? It's sad. But it's true. I feel like I go to bed every night think, "well geez, I don't have anything to ask for. And today was pretty much the same as yesterday. So... yeah..."

So mix my really crappy prayers, neglecting to continue our Bible Study, needing to learn Greek, spending way too much money this month, and my Lutheran Guilt... and I've decided to fast for the month of June. 

Now please don't think I'm this pious nun or anything. I'm anything but. I never used fasting as a means to "reset my life on God's tracks" until I read some pretty fantastic books about women who used it in the same or similar ways.  One woman fasted with her husband during the entire time they were in the process of adopting their third and fourth child. Awesome. Another woman fasted (mostly for the book) and in celebration of Jewish holidays and traditions (even though she's Christian). That's pretty cool too.

So I'm fasting.

I'm still trying to figure out what to fast from... most of the time I think about what is hindering me at the time. What is keeping me from God? What do I need less of so that I can give God more?

I'm thinking it's going to be something like this:

1. Absolutely no coffee.
2. No spending money except on gas.
3. No browsing Pinterest.

I also try to make myself DO things instead of just restricting myself from things:

4. Continue Bible Study on Psalms with Ronnie.
5. Start Bible Study on Fruits of the Spirit with Alex.
6. Continue working on Greek translations.
7. Nurture my relationships.

Seven is a pretty holy number. I'll leave it there.

Although I know I'm not challenging myself as much as I should be, I think it will be a good change for the month. Hopefully it will get me back on track with all the things that are especially important in my life, namely God.

Maybe it will give me more motivation to write this month too. I've been particularly neglectful in that area of my life as well. 

Maybe I'll be Catholic

So this article about Pope Francis is getting quite a bit of press.

"Pope Francis Says Atheists Who Do Good Are Redeemed, Not Just Catholics"

Mostly posted by my Catholic friends, this article is all over Facebook. There seems to be a pretty stark contrast between people's reactions. They either really love the Pope's comments or they are freaking out.

Well, I don't know if I've mentioned it, but I'm not Catholic. So why am I commenting on anything the Catholic Pope says? Because Catholics are Christians and as my Christian brothers and sisters, I feel a compulsion to put my two cents into their business. Because their business is Christ's business. And pretty soon I'll be in that business too.

So my first issue is with the Huffington Post. Please do not call yourselves a legitimate piece of journalism. You make me sick to my stomach.

If you take the time to read the article, you will see that the headline of the article is a complete misquote.  Pope Francis says two things of consequence in his sermon and neither of them are "atheists who do good are redeemed, not just Catholics."

First and foremost, he is preaching about Mark 9:38-40 for those of you who want to look that up.

Here's what he says (I'll even use direct quotes):

"The Lord created us in His image and likeness, and we are the image of the Lord, and He does good and all of us have this commandment at heart: do good and do not do evil. All of us. 'But, Father, this is not Catholic! He cannot do good.' Yes, he can..."

Then he says later:

"The Lord has redeemed all of us, all of us, with the Blood of Christ: all of us, not just Catholics. Everyone! 'Father, the atheists?' Even the atheists! Everyone!"

So I'll sum it up:

1. Anyone can do good works. Even people who are not Catholic.
2. Atheists are saved by the death of Christ.

Don't combine those two.

So is Pope Francis really saying that everyone is saved by good works (which makes the Protestant in me cringe)?
Or is he saying that everyone is saved by the Grace of God, regardless of what you believe or do?

You can argue against me, but I think it is the latter. And by golly, that's something I can support!

The death and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ redeems everyone. Period. Not everyone who does good works. Not everyone who believes in God or Christ. Everyone. Period. 

As you might know, "us Lutherans" believe that we are saved by the Grace of God through faith.

Well crap. Going into seminary, I'm probably not supposed to say that I believe this. I'm probably not supposed to say that this has been my personal belief for a few years now. Oops. Well, I'm not one to follow the rules, Southern so uh... nice to meet you?

If Jesus did not die for every single fallen human being, then it would not be considered salvation. If He only died for those with works, it is not a gift. We have to work for it. If He died only for those with faith, God is not forgiving enough to even have mercy on the best of people.  Jesus died for everyone: regardless of our beliefs or actions. He must have died for everyone or He died for no one.

I know, what about Mark 16:16?

[Jesus said,] "He who has believed and has been baptized shall be saved; but he who has disbelieved shall be condemned."

Well, right after that, He says that those who believe will cast out demons, speak in tongues, pick up serpents, and will not be poisoned.

Okay, I don't know about you, but I haven't been casting out any demons or picking up any serpents. So does that mean I don't believe? I haven't seen record of these feats since the first disciples went out to preach. So are we just doing it wrong?

Probably. Actually, let me change that to a resounding YES.

So what if I'm right? What if Pope Francis (if I'm not misquoting him as HuffPost did) is right? What if nothing NOTHING but the Grace of God and the death of Jesus Christ gives us eternal life? What is there to lose in that belief? Why do we recoil at that?

Is it because it takes away our purpose? Our goal of evangelism and saving souls? Would there be any point in a Church if everyone was completely and only saved by Grace?

We could spread the good news. We wouldn't have to save people. That's not really our purpose in life anyway, is it? We could let them know and help them understand that they have already been saved by Jesus' death. They could experience the joy that comes with knowing that we don't have to- we can't- do anything to be saved. We just are. Just because we breathe. Just because we are God's creatures.

What if everyone believed that they are saved by Grace? That they are so loved by God that He would sacrifice His only son to die so that we could live? No conditions.

What would that world look like?