As we enter Holy Week, I have a very simple message for us today:
You are loved. You are deeply and completely loved by the Creator of the cosmos. You are loved so deeply and completely that God took on human flesh in order to walk among us again for the first time since Eden. Jesus was so enamored with us that He joyfully became human so that He may physically embrace us, physically care for us, physically join us in breaking bread and drinking wine, and yes, physically giving over His body so that we may be fully one with God and all of God's creation someday for eternity. Jesus so loved us that at the time right before His arrest, Jesus cried out to the Father to see if there was any way He may stay with us for just a little bit longer. You see, I don't think Jesus was afraid to die. I don't think Jesus was afraid to face the torture of crucifixion. I think Jesus was deeply and completely grieved that He would be physically separated from us again. And even though a thousand years is as a day for God, God does not want to spend even one day without us.
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He said also to the one who had invited him, “When you give a luncheon or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers and sisters or your relatives or rich neighbors, in case they may invite you in return, and you would be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. And you will be blessed because they cannot repay you.”
~Luke 14:12-14 When Jesus told His hosts to expand their table to include not just their friends and relatives but also the ostracized in their community, He was helping them to stretch themselves towards contributing to a community of wholeness and belonging for all people, which would ultimately enact positive change in their wider community. In Jesus’ time, the ostracized were regularly excluded from aspects of societal engagement and sometimes worship if they were deemed to be unclean due to their affliction. Unfortunately, in today’s church, we are not doing much better. There is still a tendency to bar individuals from our worship spaces. Perhaps because they are homeless and dirty, unpredictable and not quite fitting our social scripts. Perhaps because they have a past we fear, a history of felony charges or gang involvement. Perhaps it is their gender identity or sexual orientation and a (I would deem misguided) theology that precludes them. However, in barring individuals from spaces that are meant to be sacred sanctuary and refuge, we are wrongfully gatekeeping when Jesus explicitly called us to do the opposite. Our Christian identity should be the primary binding agent in our Church communities so we do not fall into patterns of discrimination based on other identity markers. As Paul writes, “So in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus” (Gal. 3:28-29). As part of adding seats to our table, we have to redefine our own and others’ identities to be primarily in Christ with other aspects of identity as unimportant to their right to belong and of the utmost importance to the gifts each uniquely share with one another in community. In welcoming all to the table, we are reversing the social injury of ostracism in individuals who are outcasts, and we are enriching our shared communities with diversity. We are made more whole, our churches are made more whole, and our wider communities are made more whole when we honor all people as children of God, inviting their peculiarities and their uniqueness. We are blessed, not because of what these individuals are able to repay in our worldly sense, but rather what these individuals are able to gift us in a Godly sense – the wholeness that comes from embracing the rich tapestry of diversity. As [Jesus] went a little farther, He saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. Immediately He called them, and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men and followed Him.
~Mark 1:19-20 All stories have supporting characters who may play a large part in the narrative, following along and interacting with the protagonist from start to finish, or a much smaller part, mentioned in passing and soon forgotten as the epic continues. However, regardless of whether a supporting character plays a small or large part in someone else’s story, every supporting character has a story of their own. In the call story of James and John, this supporting character is Zebedee; and I’d like to tell his story (at least how I imagine it may have gone). Zebedee was a fisherman, as was his father before him and his father’s father before that. He was raised in Galilee and spent as much time on the water as he did on land. When his sons, James and John, were old enough, he taught them the family trade. For years they fished together, went to market together, and fared many storms together - literally and figuratively. All that came to an abrupt end when a man named Jesus called James and John from their father’s side to follow Him. A few days later, Jesus found Zebedee sitting on the bank of Galilee and sat down beside him. A few minutes passed in silence as the two men sat watching the water lap against the shore. Finally, Zebedee spoke, “Why did you call my sons, James and John, but did not call me?” Jesus looked at Zebedee and said, “Zebedee, you were called by my Father to be a fisherman. Since you were a boy, you’ve had the ability to predict the weather and the movement of the fish. I’ve seen you in the marketplace determining a fair price for your fish so as not to exploit your neighbors while still supporting your family. Someday, a little boy will bring a few fish from your catch, and I will multiply those fish to feed 5,000 people. Your call to be a fisherman matters to the Kingdom of God, and it is just as important as your sons’ calls to be disciples.” We are each called by God to certain professions based on our own unique gifts. For some that is teacher, for others it is janitor, still others are called to be astronauts while others are called to be actuaries. All are important to the Kingdom of God. God created you exactly as you are in order to impact the world through your gifts. Just because your call is not to “formal ministry” does not mean that your call is not to do the work of God. When we use our gifts to better our workplace, the people in our lives, and the wider world, we are doing God’s work. As Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “There are different kinds of working, but in all of them and in everyone it is the same God at work” (1 Cor 12:6). No matter where you are or what you’re doing, invite God to work through you and use the gifts you were given to make the world a better place. I grew up in a family that does not do conflict. We will do everything in our collective power to avoid hard conversations. As such, I didn’t really learn how to engage in conflict in a healthy way until I was much older. Now, although I can have hard conversations, I still don’t love them. Hard conversations are, well, hard. Hard conversations often bring up a lot of vulnerability, a lot of wounds, and a lot of fear. Hard conversations may bring up memories of old conflicts that did not end well or may be entirely unfamiliar because you have avoided them most of your life. Hard conversations may bring up fears of rejection or abuse. However, hard conversations and conflict are necessary to engage in an authentic community; and we have a good model of how to have these in a healthy way in Jesus.
First, the best time to have a hard conversation is sooner rather than later. Matthew recounts Jesus’ thoughts on this in his Gospel: “Settle matters quickly with your adversary…do it while you are still together on the way” (Matt 5:25). The longer we allow a conflict to fester, the more time we allow our feelings to grow, and what may have begun as a simple disagreement has the potential to grow out of proportion. When a disagreement has first occurred, you may still be “together on the way” with that person, meaning there is still a relationship to salvage. Allowing time to pass and feelings to grow build a chasm in the relationship that becomes much more difficult to cross. Second, identify your responsibility within the disagreement before pointing out the fault of your adversary. Again, in Matthew, Jesus says, “How can you say to your sibling, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye?” (Matthew 7:4). Take some time to analyze the situation from all sides and identify how you have contributed to the disagreement. Lead with ownership of your own mistakes followed by how the other person’s actions/words have impacted you. The simple formula for this is, “I apologize for my part in this disagreement, which is _________. I felt _______ when you did/said ________. I would like to resolve this, and I commit to ___________. I need ________ from you.” Then, provide the same opportunity for the other person to do the same by truly listening. Finally, commit to reconciliation. The goal of any disagreement should be the preservation of the relationship, not to prove who is “right.” As you move through the disagreement, focus on what is needed to resolve the issue in order to move forward in relationship. This often means setting aside our egos. In his Gospel, Luke recounts an argument among the disciples about who was greatest. Jesus steps in by bringing a child into their midst and saying, “It is the one who is least among you all who is the greatest” (Luke 9:46-48). Building and sustaining community has absolutely nothing to do with who “wins” an argument and everything to do with our willingness to set aside our selfishness and enter into brave spaces of hard conversations. There are two very important caveats to all of this. First, none of the above is relevant in cases of abuse. If someone is abusing you mentally, emotionally, sexually, or physically, your safety is of utmost importance. Reconciliation in these instances is not healthy, and you should never feel that you must continue a relationship that is harmful to you. Second, there is not space in this blog to fully expound on having hard conversations in an effort to build authentic communities. Entire books have been written on this. However, use this as a starting point, knowing that there is always more to learn and ways to grow. At The Hearth, an aspect of our Mission is creating space within authentic community. I, as Worship Leader, will make mistakes because I am human. You will also make mistakes because you are human. Perfection is not an expectation of authentic community; acknowledgement of our imperfections and acceptance of others’ imperfections is. In our society today, there is a tendency towards leaving community instead of having hard conversations; but I would argue that this is a huge reason we have such a problem with loneliness. Abandoning the people and communities where we feel belonging perpetuates our own isolation. Although conflict is difficult and doesn’t feel good, it is a moment that passes and then strengthens relationships and communities. As Glennon Doyle says, “We can do hard things.” Let’s do those hard things together. On Ash Wednesday, we kicked off our Lenten Sermon Series of Campfire Stories with your stories of finding The Hearth (or Castle Church if you've been around for awhile). I had prepared an entire sermon in the event that no one wanted to share their stories, but after 15 minutes of telling stories and laughing together and crying together, those of you who shared provided a better sermon than I could have given. Thank you.
Stories have the power to shape culture in a way that pragmatic discourse cannot. Stories create illustrations that fill in the gaps of our understanding. Stories reach deep inside our brains, engaging every neuro connection and speaking directly into our subconscious. There is a reason that stories are used to shape religion and the culture of our communities, and The Hearth is no different. The stories you told last night had shared themes that speak into the values we hold dear in The Hearth community. Divine in All We believe that the experience of the Divine is complex, multi-faceted, and deeply personal. We believe that God is God, and we have a shared understanding of who God is. However, we each have a personal relationship with God that may be reflected in the Divine creation of nature - seeing God in the Oak trees or water systems God created; in the face and love we experience from a friend or family member; in a piece of art that reflects the Divine Creator; or the experience we have when the Spirit dwells within us during meditation or prayer. Wrestling is Okay We believe that The Hearth is a safe space to experience all the facets of true and deep faith, including the doubting and the wrestling. Faith is a journey, and the relationship we have with God is layered and nuanced, and we will have days where we feel close or far, satisfied or angry. We believe God is big enough to hold all of that in Divine hands, and it is all valid reflections of authentic faith and relationship. We believe that wrestling with Scripture, with Religious practices and history, with divine interventions in current events is a process of deepening our understanding and relationship with God, not a lack of faith. Community is Key The Hearth values relationships. We believe that relationships and community are the building blocks of faith in action. This is why we spend so much time together after church and outside of church. We deeply care for each other and accept each other exactly as we are, knowing that the Grace of God is busy working to file down our rough edges and help us grow closer to the divine creation God created each and every one of us to be. And we believe that God works through others and through our community to help us through this self work. Go out and spread the Good News of God and the Gospel and the Church community you call home. You never know the impact of your stories and who needs to hear them. This week I am slowly packing up the office in which I’ve worked for the past 10 years and 9 months at the Florida United Methodist Childrens Home. This beautiful campus, tucked away in Enterprise, FL right on Lake Monroe, is filled with old South Oak trees covered in Spanish moss. It is home to anywhere from 30 to 100 displaced children at any given time, providing a refuge for healing and growth until they move on to a more permanent family. In many ways, it has been a home for healing and growth for me as well. As I took down artwork and notes from the many children I’ve served throughout my time at The Childrens Home, I reflected on my own journey as a Therapist.
I began this work 15 years ago, and two of the biggest lessons I’ve learned are 1) I am not that powerful and 2) Sometimes presence is more powerful than any words will ever be. When I was a brand new therapist, I had dreams of saving every client. I truly believed that the work of changing lives rested on my shoulders. As I train new therapists, I see this same hope in their eyes as well. It is a valiant dream, but it lacks the wisdom of years spent in this work. The reality is, no one is that powerful. The drive to change a life rests in the heart and mind of the client seeking help; and the power for that change to happen rests squarely in Divine hands. The therapist’s role is simply to build a relationship that creates a safe environment of acceptance and grace that gives someone permission to take the greatest risk of their life - to change, to grow. Everything else is out of our hands. This can make one feel incredibly helpless, and it is the most beautifully humbling experience. This understanding has allowed me to embrace that I will not always have the words, and often it’s better that way. Often, all someone needs is our presence to give them the courage they need to heal. Never underestimate the value of being fully present. One of the greatest responsibilities within Sabbath is using that space and time to re-center, breathe, reengage with the Divine, and find the peace within ourselves that allows us to be fully present. You will know when you are around someone who knows how to be present in this way because you feel it within yourself. These individuals exude calm, safety, and wholeness because they themselves are calm, safe, and whole. This takes work and this takes Sabbath, but this is what allows us to impact others without speaking a word. Our own healing is never selfish work because showing up whole and present is the greatest gift we can be to others. Stay and rest. Breathe and heal. Then, go out into the world fully present as a gift to yourself and to others. What does it mean to wait for the Messiah?
For those who were alive when Jesus was born, this waiting looked different for many. There were people like Simeon and Anna, faithfully waiting on the Messiah, who were blessed with the first glimpses of His life. There were people who were waiting for something specific like the Pharisees and Priests, who missed Jesus’ birth because the Messiah did not come in the way they expected. Then there were people like the Magi who did not even know they were waiting but were some of the first to greet the Messiah. We often find ourselves in one of these categories when we are in a season of waiting. Simeon and Anna, whose story is found in the second chapter of Luke, were faithful and devout Jews who had dedicated themselves to contemplative lives in the Temple where Jesus would be presented. Both humbly awaited the Messiah, sustained by a promise that they would not pass from this world before greeting Him. In typical God fashion, Jesus shows up at the very end, an infant brought by Mary and Joseph to be consecrated to the Lord. This divine meeting was possible because of the patience of Simeon and Anna as well as the faithfulness of Mary and Joseph. When has God shown up for you because you faithfully waited? The Pharisees and Priests, though we may consider them faithful and devout like Simeon and Anna, were actually quite different. Whereas Simeon and Anna’s faithfulness and devout practices came from a place of humility and motivated by a love of God, the Pharisees and Priests were depicted as practicing their faith from a place of pride and motivated by power. They were the gatekeepers of who was allowed near the Holy of Holies, who was allowed to read the words of the Torah, and who was ceremoniously clean or unclean. Ironically, in their pride in their own learnedness and dedication to the Law, they were the ones to miss the Holy of Holies incarnate as prophesied by their Torah. They were looking for a powerful leader, a king of kings, a militant leader. They were not looking for an illegitimate baby out of the poor and despised town of Nazareth. What gifts from God have you missed because they came in a form unrecognizable to you because of your own pride or pain? Finally - The Magi. These Priests or Wise Men, probably of the Zoroastrian religion, were not really waiting on anything. They were following their own religious practices of consulting the celestial landscape for divine messages around their own prophecies. The faithfulness of these Magi to their own practices brought them face to face with the Judeo-Christian Messiah, and they could not help but recognize this child’s Divinity and Regency. When have you been surprised by God by something you did not even know you were waiting for? Seasons of waiting are hard. We see myriad examples in the Bible of not waiting and the devastation that can result (think Abram and Sarai in Genesis 16). The miracle of God is the ways in which He continues to love us and give to us, even when we miss it or take it for granted or refuse to wait. May you find patience, hope, and faith in your seasons of waiting. This time of year always feels a bit like limbo, floating somewhere between Christmas and New Year’s, not sure what day it is and whether to finish leftovers or cook a new meal. As our Hearth member, Jeff, would call it - The Intermezzo. It is during this time that I consider Mary and Joseph’s Intermezzo with Jesus. What was their experience like after the excitement faded? After the whirlwind of birthing a baby in a stable and entertaining visitors near and far? What was it like being left with a newborn baby without the normal support of an extended family helping them navigate this new phase of life? I imagine it was a bit disorienting and they were also not quite sure what day it was or where they were getting their next meal.
Faith is a powerful thing, and Mary and Joseph survived this Intermezzo because of it. Through faith, they protected Jesus from a tyrant’s infanticide. Through faith, they brought Jesus to the temple to be circumcised and named. Through faith, Simeon and Anna were given the opportunity to see God’s salvation, bask in the light of revelation to the Gentiles, and witness the glory of Israel (Luke 2). Through faith, Mary and Joseph trusted the God who always keeps His promises, and they continued to share Jesus with the world, even when it was incredibly dangerous to do so. During this Intermezzo, let us remember the faith of Mary and Joseph and the ways they shared the Light of Salvation with the world. Let us remember that we are also called to share the Good News that our God is alive and loose in the world, making all things new and loving us all into salvation. May we never miss an opportunity to share God with the world in the ways we feed and clothe our neighbor, strive for peace, and advocate for justice. When people ask me why I moved to Florida, I explain that when I was looking for colleges at the age of 18, year-round palm trees and sunshine sounded like the way to go. What teenager wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to study poolside in the winter, pretending she was in some Riviera resort? Yes, I 100% did this. However, people closest to me know that I moved to Florida because I struggle with Seasonal Affective Disorder (yes, the acronym is actually SAD). Year-round Sunshine is not just the paradise of a young adult, it is critical to my mental health. My psyche is literally afraid of the dark. When the sun sets earlier and the weather cools down, I move into a state of sadness. I don’t want to leave my home, I’m completely unmotivated to be productive or exercise, and all I want to do is eat carbs like my life depends on it. If you can relate to this, you are not alone.
It is not an accident that the liturgical calendar invites us into Advent as we drop into cold, dark winter. While the world around us is caught up in the hustle and bustle of Holiday preparations, we, as Christians, are called into a season of stillness, mindful of the ongoing plight of oppression and injustice in our world. Advent is a season of being one with the “people in darkness” and “those who dwell in the shadows” (Isaiah 9:2). If this is a season of sadness or grief for you, know that you are in good company. I invite you to embrace this season of reflection, especially if it comes with a side of depression, because we believe that Advent is also a season pregnant with hope and expectation. The promise of Advent, the coming of Jesus, is just as relevant to us today as it was for the Chosen People awaiting their Messiah. Our God is a God of new beginnings, and He promises the dawn of great light (Isaiah 9:2) that will end our winter, our season of sadness, and the shadows of our own shame. Our God who makes all things new, pulls us out of the pit of darkness into a new light of hope, just as every year we celebrate the eternal God born to live among us to dispel the darkness of hate and violence in the world. We embrace this Advent experience and cling to the hope of a Messiah who saved us through His life of ministry and hope as much as He saved us through His death. This is the good news we are to shout from the mountaintops (Isaiah 42:11), that God incarnate was born to dwell among us, that Jesus lived a life modeling the Good News of grace that saves us from our sin, and that in Jesus’ death the Spirit of God tore the veil in two, shaking the world to its core, announcing that the barriers between us and God would be no more. It’s Advent!
Which means we have entered the season where I have somehow successfully moved a 50 pound Christmas tree across town and into my house, jigsawed employee Holiday schedules, found a new Advent Wreath for The Hearth, and made it to two friends’ Christmas concerts in a week. It is also the season where I completely forget things, like sending the Church Newsletter, and realize it 6 hours after it was supposed to go out while at the Chiropractor. There is nothing like the feeling of failure when your body reminds you with a crack that you can’t even seem to keep your joints in alignment let alone your Holiday schedule. Does anyone else think it’s a good idea to pile on way too much during the Holidays the same way we think it’s a good idea to pile on food to our Thanksgiving plates? Our eyes are bigger than our stomachs and our schedules are longer than our days. Yet we insist on beating ourselves up about the things that go unfinished on our impossibly long to-do lists. How did we get here when this Season began as an invitation to quiet preparation for the arrival of our Lord? You know, the same Lord who loves us even when we’re the last one to pick up our child at daycare because we underestimated seasonal traffic or we miss an end-of-year report deadline or we forgot an ingredient to make grandma’s Christmas cookies or we don’t get the Church Newsletter out exactly at noon on Friday. This season, I am inviting us into a season of Grace. I am inviting us to remember that Jesus chose to be born into a world full of imperfect people who made lots of mistakes. Jesus’ own parents, who He chose to be His parents when He could have chosen literally anyone, LOST Him for FOUR DAYS (Luke 2:41-46). Jesus chose friends who had questionable pasts, like Mary Magdalene, or who denied Him when He needed a friend the most, like Peter. Jesus loved Thomas, who doubted His most important miracle and Judas, who betrayed Him. This season, we are going to make mistakes, forget things, hurt someone’s feelings, and miss something important. This is what it is to be human, divinely created and loved even when we don’t feel worthy of either. This season, extend grace to others because we are all in this together. When everything goes wrong, when we are royally not our best selves, when someone cuts us off on the highway, when we kind of hate this time of year, remember that you are loved. Remember that you are held. Remember that our God chose to become one of us imperfect beings and die at our hands because He is lavishly, unreservedly, desperately in love with us just as we imperfectly are. And He is so proud to call us His own. |
Kaylee Vance LMFT, LMHC
Worship Leader |