Monthly Archives: April 2016

Love like Big, Boundless Skies

I preached the following sermon at St Thomas Episcopal Church in Newark, DE, where I worshiped and was involved in campus ministry when I was at the University of Delaware. The propers are for the Fifth Sunday after Easter C, focusing on the gospel, John 13:31-35.You can watch it here.

“Everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another”

Christ calls us to love and honor all people.  It’s one of the foundational promises of our baptismal covenant and the subject of many a passage of scripture. 1 Corinthians 13 tells us that love is patient and kind and bears and believes all things. It’s a lovely passage. But you don’t have to worry about my preaching on it today.

For me, I know all this talk about love makes it tempting to write today’s gospel off. I know to strive to hold the door for people behind me, to hold my tongue when I’m tired and grumpy, and to hold off on tailgating the car going the incorrect speed for its lane choice.  I mean, I’m trying to be good and to be kind.

Jesus said “Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another”

How does Jesus love his disciples that isn’t covered in 1 Corinthians?

When Jesus first called his disciples, they weren’t wandering around like baby ducks looking for a mother to imprint on and to follow. They were people like you and me, waking up and going out into the world with one or more jobs to do.

Picture it:  you’re waiting tables at a café or checking out customers in a grocery store line. In your frantic, mad rush, you turn to your next customer and there’s JESUS and he says “Hey, I know this is how you put food on the table and a roof over your head and that you’re shifts not ever for another few hours, but you should stop everything you’re doing and follow me.

“Now.”

That’s scary. That’s wild. That’s outside my comfort zone.

That’s Jesus loving his disciples by inviting them into a new way of being, – should they dare to accept such a radical love – and spread wings they might not even know they had.

And that was just the beginning!

Following Jesus around in this new way of being did not guarantee any sort of glamour or social desirability.  I think I can say with confidence that there was no “Disciple of the Month” award that came with a modest Applebee’s gift card. Jesus’ love that called the disciples into a radical new way of being also called them to love everybody. The real everybody. Not just everybody in their neighborhood or where they used to work or who they went to school with. Jesus’ love called the disciples – and still calls us – to love the people we like to pretend we don’t see or only exist in the form of being causes we give our money to.  People who are forced to sell their bodies. People who talk to themselves when they ride the train. People who we can smell when we walk by them, making it harder to pretend they’re not there.

Jesus’ big transformative love doesn’t allow for the big invisible walls our society can put up to keep us separate from people less desirable than we are.

Jesus’ love called the disciples to invite them to dinner. This love believes we should all come to the table together.

This past January, I had the incredible honor of returning to South Africa for 10 days with my ethics professor, Fr. Michael Battle. Towards the end of our trip, we had breakfast with Desmond Tutu and one of my classmates asked him what his greatest passion is. His answer: Freedom. It was at the heart of Tutu’s passionate work to end apartheid in South Africa and still visible in his support of his daughter Mpho’s plans to marry another woman, the center of much discussion in Cape Town around the time of our trip.

“Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another”

Talk about a love that transforms! Tutu’s leadership and passion for freedom helped to transform a nation and break down the barriers established under apartheid and inviting an entire nation into a new way of being.

You never know when the Holy Spirit might come lovingly knocking at your door and inviting you into a new way of being. And while these outrageous acts of Grace are about as easy to predict as finding a door to Narnia (never the same way twice), we do have some control as to how ready we are to welcome such big love. Where might there be invisible walls that keep up from making space within our very own hearts?

A few days ago, I was going for a walk with one of my classmates. We were talking about the good, the bad, and the ugly in the great world of Job Searching in the Episcopal Church.  It’s a pretty big church out there, but in all the pressure to find a job, it can be tempting to force ourselves to fit into a good-enough one. To think the fit is close enough to right. To convince ourselves that we won’t be clipping our wings enough to even notice.

But if we’re contorting ourselves to fit into this new space, it doesn’t sound like we’ll be leaving much room for the Holy Spirit to make a Graceful entrance. I don’t mean to underestimate Her so much as to acknowledge just how distracting that kind of contortionism can be.

This conversation about the church prompted my friend to share a bit of her personal experience from earlier in her life. She told me how she had been tempted many times to make that same mistake in relationships. To force herself to fit. To clip her wings a bit to see if that might turn “good enough” into “good.”

It didn’t.

If you’re clipping the magnificent and unique set of wings God gave you to fly with in the one-of-kind way God is calling you to fly, you’re doing it wrong.

If your love for someone is shaped like a birdcage, contains any sort of latch, or requires wing-clipping; you’re definitely doing it wrong.

And that’s wehn my friend said something else to me that sounded a lot like Bishop Tutu’s passion for freedom from birdcages of inequality and injustice and abuse.

She said: “You know how I knew my husband was the one for me? I didn’t have to even think about clipping my wings. He was already shouting, ‘FLAP HARDER!’”

That’s the kind of image that lines up with Holy Spirit in the form of a dove.

A love that invites you to spread your full wingspan and SOAR requires a lot of space. Those boundless skies have a lot of big, scary, stunningly beautiful room for transformation.

Jesus said “Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another”

 “Just as I have led you with love that transforms you, you should love one another in a way that breaks down barriers”

Flap harder. Tell your friends.        

 

Atonement & Suffering

We witness and experience suffering in our world on a regular basis: devastating weather events, violent crimes, unexpected health complications, and other kinds of trauma. In the overwhelming firehouse that has been the discussion of atonement theology this semester, where is suffering?

Theories of Atonement

Ransom theory, the main theology of atonement for 1000 years, cites Christ’s purpose on earth was to pay a ransom to the Devil to get humanity back. One of the interesting components of this theory is that under it, the devil is just as powerful as God. Christ isn’t just saving us from sin. Christ is saving us from evil. By defeating these powers, Jesus saves humanity from our suffering.

Satisfaction theory focuses on the problem of our sin as something  we cannot reconcile ourselves. God created humanity, so only God could absolve humanity. In the Incarnation, God became human to save us, since sin can only be forgiven by God. There’s no issues of the devil being on par with God. While suffering isn’t explicitly mentioned, if it is associated with sin, then it creates a very problematic answer to the problem of suffering…

Penal substitution, as previously discussed, focuses on the law and Christ bearing the punishment for our sins, suffering in our place. It’s confusing in terms of suffering: if Christ is suffering the punishment for our sins, then what did we do to deserve suffering?

Moral influence theory (my favorite) states that Christ was sent by God because God loves us. It’s big with the warm fuzzies and does not have the problem of violence that the other two theories are often criticized for:

“Indeed how cruel and wicked it seems that anyone should demand the blood of an innocent person as the price for anything, or that it should in any way please him that an innocent man should be slain – still less that God should consider the death of this Son so agreeable that be it he should be reconciled to the whole world?”[1]

This theory of atonement leaves more room for the human heart, but raises the question: if all you need is love, where is there room for suffering? Is all suffering evil?

For those of who who’ve seen the wonder that is Inside Out, we know that happy rainbows and butterflies and glitter cannot fix everything, and for those of us who’ve done CPE (Clinical Pastoral Education), we recognize Sadness’s amazing counseling of Bing Bong, as she helps him process his grief and name his feelings. Even Joy eventually recognizes the importance of sadness! Our visible signs of suffering, even from the smallest indications of strain, cue others that we need help, support, and comfort.

How do we handle suffering on a societal level?

While cultures of over commitment and putting on a brave face generally seem to handle suffering by avoidance (not the CPE recommended approach), when I try to think of an example of acknowledging suffering well, one stands out about all the rest: South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission

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There are some brilliant documentaries on this that know far more than I do; I know enough to know just how much I have left to learn!

Here, after the fall of apartheid, South Africans from all walks of life were invited to tell their stories[1]: the crimes they witnessed, and the injustice and violence they or their loved ones experienced. Even more, white South Africans who had served in police forces could be granted amnesty in exchange for their truths too, in hopes of helping people who left wondering about what had happened to their loved ones to get the answers they needed to properly grieve. The numbers are staggering:

  • Over 6,750 statements were received from witnesses
  • 1,355 hours of recordings were collected
  • 7 national events held[2]

Just stop for a second and think about what an amazing undertaking it is to support people in truth-telling about such a deep wound on a national scale. Perhaps places where small-scale reconciliation didn’t quite go as planned should take a page from South Africa’s book. There are plenty of pages to choose from; the final report from the Truth and Reconciliation Commission is six volumes!

How do we translate this success to a personal level?’

In an earlier post, I mentioned that my group and I had the privilege of dining with Fr Michael Lapsley during our pilgrimage to South Africa in January. Born in New Zealand in 1948, Michael Lapsley went to Australia as a teenager to study to be a priest, and in 1973, he went to South Africa to serve as a chaplain for the Anglican Student Federation in Durban, where he was required to be a priest to black, white, and coloured students. His activity in the anti-apartheid movement led to his being exiled from South Africa in 1976. Lapsley continued his anti-apartheid work in Lesotho for several years, but when it became unsafe to remain there, he relocated to Zimbabwe in 1982. In 1990, his life changed when he received a mail bomb packaged as a religious magazine, triggered by his opening the cover. This act of terror inflicted serious injuries on Lapsley, who lost both his hands and sight in one of his eyes in the blast. By 1993, he had recovered sufficiently to serve as the Chaplain of the Trauma Center for Victims of Violence and Torture in Cape Town during the Truth and Reconciliation Process.

Fr. Lapsley’s journey up to this point inspired him to found the Institute for the Healing of Memories, which focuses on creating a safe space for people to tell their story and work through their grief in a parallel process that builds on the work of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. He believes that his own success in working through his experience is a result of his story being acknowledged, reverence, recognized, and given a moral context, so he seeks to create a space that provides these four pillars for others as they process their trauma. A nation needs to focus on the political, social and economic for its well-being and people needs to focus on the physical, emotional, and spiritual for theirs.

Fr. Michael Lapsley spends 3-4 months per year in the United States doing Healing of Memories workshops.

The space between the suffering of the crucifixion and the joyous, redemptive miracle of the resurrection is the tension we must navigate as we lead and as we serve.

 

 

[1] You know how I feel about storytelling

[2] Truth and Reconciliation Commission: By the numbers

[1] Reid, Patrick V. Readings in Western Religious Thought. 2 vols. New York: Paulist Press, ©1987-1995, 195.

“For Jesus to stand to His full height, He had to leave the small, dark place of the tomb. For us to rise to our full stature, we must leave the small, dark places of life. We must leave the many and various tombs of this earthly life, and find our way to the broad, open and light-filled places.” – Br. Mark Brown, Society of Saint John the Evangelist