A Different Way

This is the sermon I wrote the day after the Freddie Gray's funeral in Baltimore. I wrote it with tears in my eyes, with an aching heart. I wrote it because it is what I needed to hear. I preached it yesterday morning. I was terrified to be preaching about something so controversial and I was so blessed by the reception I received...

A few weeks ago when I began writing this sermon, I turned to my friend in the midst of sermon prep and said, “I just don’t have anything new to say about ‘love one another.’”  Now, it seems, I have too much to say, but no way of saying it.  It is with sighs too deep for words that I come before you this morning.  

What are we supposed to do in this world?  I feel helpless.  I feel angry and sad.  As I struggle to get my words on paper, I feel my whole soul sighing in desperation for this world.  “Come, Lord Jesus,” I pray, not really expecting an answer.  

What are we supposed to do in this world?  I am overwhelmed.  I am overwhelmed by the unjustified police violence throughout our country.  I am overwhelmed by the riots in Baltimore.  I am overwhelmed by the hatred I see in Facebook posts and comments from people who I have known to be loving and caring.  I am overwhelmed by the cries of the thousands who are denied their basic rights because of their sexual orientation.  I am overwhelmed by the despair and death in Nepal.  

What are we supposed to do in this world?  We are constantly told that violence is the answer - even when we have ignored the question.  This world tells us that the only way to be heard is to yell louder than our opponent.  We are told that the only way to make it to the top is to lie, cheat, and steal our way there.  This world continues to say that “justice” only applies if you are a part of the majority.  This world is telling us that only some lives matter. 

We cannot believe this world.  In fact, as Christians we DO not believe this world.  We have been baptized into the Body of Christ and we KNOW the truth.  It is not violence that triumphs.  It is not anger and vengeance that prevails.  Hate is not the answer.  

The lies of this world are just that - lies.  We cannot believe them.  No matter how true they feel in this week, in this time, in this place, we must cling to the real truth.  

And the real truth is this: Strength is in weakness.  Triumph is in death on a cross.  The gospel declares that Jesus’ death is the first pivotal moment - the moment where God’s reign breaks into this world.  And God’s reign does not look like this world at all.  The kingdom of God declares that love is the answer, that the way to be heard is to lay yourself down for another.  The kingdom of God calls us to be compassionate, careful, and righteous with our words and our actions.  

Jesus’ life shows us that even when it looks like hatred and violence wins, God is stronger, God prevails, God conquers death and the devil in order to restore the world.  We must not let this world overwhelm us, we must be overcome with Christ’s love.  

When we are overcome with Christ’s love, we see the world in a different way.  When we have the faith to abide in Jesus and he in us, our perspective becomes more holy, more heartbroken.  

I used to pray a very simple prayer when I was in college, “Lord, break my heart for the things that break your heart.”  What I realized was, that is way too hard.  There are too many things that break my heart now.  I am bogged down with the tragedies of this world.  But it gave me new eyes.  And when we become overwhelmed with Christ’s love for the world, we will have new eyes in Christ.  Now I pray that whole world’s heart would break for the things that break God’s heart. 

Because when that happens, when we begin using “God lenses,” we will see a new world.  We will see new answers.  When we see tragedies in this world, such as the earthquake in Nepal, the avalanche on Mt Everest, and the police violence throughout our cities, we will feel them deep within us as personal tragedies.  For they are not just the people of Nepal.  They are not just homosexual and transgender people in cities, they are not just African American people in Baltimore or North Charleston.  Jesus tells us that these people are our brothers and sisters.  And we are called to love them.  In fact, more than that - something that seems quite scandalous - we are called to love them so much that we would lay our lives down for them.  We skip over that line and dismiss it as a metaphor because it seems too hard, the stakes are too high if we say we must die.  

But the stakes are too high.  Our brothers and sisters are dying. They are being beaten to death, abused, denied basic human rights.  Whether the violence of the killing of an unarmed black man, or the violence of rioting in response to it - we are told that this is normal.  Our world tells us that this is okay.  Sin declares that this is how we bring about change.  But I promise you, my sisters and brothers, what the world says is normal is not normal at all.  Violence and hatred are not from God.  They are satanic, they are parasitic to the world that God created for wholeness, peace, shalom.  

We are called to throw away our tribal allegiances - whatever they might be. Jesus tells us in this very passage that there is a different way.  There is a the way of unity, righteousness, and peace.  God’s way is the way of love.  

The redemption of this world will not come from violence.  It will not come from hatred and abuse.  The reign of God does not come in anger and vengeance.  The kingdom of God breaks into this world when despite everything - despite the world telling us that violence is the only answer, that death will continue forever, that hatred is stronger - the kingdom of God breaks into this world when we decide to love. In this world that will continue to tell us we must kill one another, God says that we must die for another.  We are all brothers and sisters in Christ.  There is no “us” and “them.”  

And in this time of overwhelming violence, hatred, pointing fingers, and laying blame - we must remember that God says there is a different way and that it starts with us.  

It starts with this community.  It starts on a small scale - a relationship scale.  This new way of living, the kingdom of God in this world starts when people like you and me decide to love.  Instead of hating, instead of holding a grudge, instead of disregarding people because they look different, love different, or act different from us, we can decide to love.  

God works in small ways.  God is working the hearts of the thousands of volunteers who have gone to Nepal to help in recovery.  God was working through the hands of the people who came out the next morning in Baltimore to clean up the streets.  God is working in the Lutheran church as we continue to work to make our sanctuaries safe places for people of different sexual orientations, races, and backgrounds.  God is working. There is no denying that.  So let us offer up our own hands and feet, our own hearts and souls, in order to live into the love that God has so graciously and freely given us.  The Kingdom of God starts here. In this community.  Loving one another starts with us. 

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

Ticked Off

Let me preface life by saying that I am in love with this song. If you haven't noticed by various other posts, I mostly enjoy my feelings through songs and song lyrics. Kacey Musgraves is releasing her first album on March 19th and I will shameless plug her until then. Because I think she is fantastic. And a good person. And being a good person is important. With that, continue to read on...

I'm really ticked off at humanity.

And I'm only saying "ticked off" because using anything stronger would be inappropriate for a semi-Christian blog. (Even though you better believe that I'm thinking it!)

Does anyone else get like this sometimes? All the time? Do people just get really under your skin?

Is it because we have this book that contains all of the wonderful things that Jesus did? Is the Bible the cause of our grief with humanity? Or is it our own humanity that really ticks us off about other people?

I don't really have an answer for the sources of my mood, except something that keeps happening in my life and the lives of thousands, if not millions, of other people on a daily basis.

I don't understand racism.

In fact, it took me three tries to even spell racism before I got it right. I don't see color. Similarly, something else I don't understand is prejudice of any sort. I don't see sexuality. I don't see intelligence. I don't see the job you have or the clothes you wear. I don't see your taste of music or where you used to live.

And I certainly don't love that way.

But I'm not perfect. (We already talked about this... see two posts below...) Oh, I'm definitely not perfect. Because I see in love. I judge people by how much love they have for humanity (so obviously my self worth is in the pits right now).

I really really dislike people who are racist. Or sexist. Or ageist (It's a real thing, okay?) Or sexuality-ist (I made that one up).

And that's not okay. We are supposed to hate the sin, not the sinner. And I'm sometimes really bad about hating the sinner. Especially when I don't even understand the sin. But I don't claim that my ignorance is a good reason to judge people.

I just think it's really hard to separate the sin from the sinner. I want  to believe that God loves me more than Hitler. And more than the racist people that sneer at my boyfriend and I in the mall. And more than people who hate homosexuals.

But that's just not true.

God loves everyone.

Equally.

And geez, that sucks.

God doesn't see sexuality, age, color, taste in music, background, or even sins that you committed thirty seconds ago. All He is sees is His perfect child because Jesus died and made us perfect.

Perfect.

We are all God's children. That's all He sees. Saved by the grace and mercy from His Son's crucifixion.

When people start realizing that we should love to love because Jesus loves and not because of the color of our skin, how many piercings we have, or whether or not we go to church, then humanity won't look so stupid. And we might look a little bit more like the Kingdom of God.