Thursday, June 28, 2018

Stay Salty

Dear Abbey Friends,

In both Luke and Matthew, Jesus makes a comment about salt. He wants us to be salty… and not salty with the edge you might find in the Urban Dictionary but salty in terms of faithful. If salt looses its saltiness, it's of no use. Now, of course, a modern scientist might point out that sodium chloride is a very stable compound, and salt really can’t loose it’s saltiness. This is a helpful reminder that the Bible is not meant to replace your Organic Chemistry text book. The point is exploring who we are and how God invites us to be, and so here we are with this image of salt, being the salt of the earth.

Salt in the ancient world is life. It is essential. We need salt to live. In II Kings, salt is added to water to purify. Salt preserves food, extending the sustenance and nourishment. Salt helped fertilize, and of course it made the meal all the more savory. Salt is a partner, it comes alongside. We don’t serve salt on a plate alone… even if it’s pink Himalayan sea salt. Salt is not a solo artist, it comes alongside, it participates, and it changes something to make it more life-giving.

But salt… could loose its saltiness. It was valuable. It was so valuable our word salary is rooted in salt, how we talk about earning a living, sustaining our lives... it harkens back to the value of salt. And just like any valuable commodity, people can do act in ways that are deceptive and unkind. Salt could be blended with something more like chalk or plaster… and lose it’s saltiness. Just like we might lose our saltines, our ability to partner in the world, change it, and make it give life. In the Gospel of Matthew this salt metaphor is connected to the beatitudes, giving a powerful context for what it means to be faithful… or salty in the best possible way. Jesus blesses the poor, the mourning, the meek, the hungry, the peacemaker and more… all the nobodies. All the qualities we certainly don’t find electable. In the Gospel of Matthew this list of blessings is longer and linked to Isaiah’s words. For example, the “poor in spirit” is not a way of making the rich feel more comfortable, and in a way that Luke doesn’t, it is related to a poverty that is so intense the spirit is crushed by the systems of oppression and the flame of hope is just a vulnerable ember about to be doused by water by some Caesar or Pharaoh or CEO or somebody. Being salty is hard, coming alongside the world and being an agent that gives life by seeking justices and compassion is hard work. Most of us get uncomfortable with our own feelings and hard spaces let alone others. Loosing our saltiness might be easy to do… particularly when a lot of our Christian churches probably lost it a long time ago.

This week a blog circulated titled something like, “If your church isn’t talking about immigration you should find a new church.” And that is probably true. But I thought, we have talked about immigration in general, and the separation of families specifically, for the last three weeks. In fact I cannot remember a time in active ministry in the last ten years when we were not working on immigration reform. Three years ago in this very room with this microphone, Sister Kathleen Erickson shared about her time as a chaplain in the for-profit family detention centers. They looked like great Texas summer camps on the outside and were horrors on the inside, and she reminded us that we could have spent less putting each woman and her children in a Hyatt hotel for the same nights. A local lawyer spoke, he volunteered to defend these woman, and he wept openly in front of us sharing how he had lost every case and was certain we were sending these women and children back as a death sentence. We have been working on immigration, and it is exhausting. We have been calling and writing and meeting and learning, and it is hard to stay salty. And that is only immigration, we have been working on human trafficing and domestic violence and environmental destruction and gun violence and countless other avenues in need of desperate reform. It is easy to loose our saltines, to decide it better to stay home and just watch Netflix or maybe move off the grid so Facebook cannot inform you of one more breaking news story that crushes your spirit. I have been feeling pretty tired lately, perhaps you have too… there is a lot of news.

And then I remembered, Bren Brown at the close of Braving the Wilderness asks us to honor our pain and our joy; to celebrate it rather than feel guilty about spending time looking at birthday cakes when there are parents who don’t get to hold their baby tonight. She reminds us that our pursuit of healing for the world is not only about justice but about wanting everyone to live a full and healthy and happy life, we must live that to want it for others. We should celebrate love and give big hugs to family and family of choice, because when we value the gifts before us we can really honor the pain and lose others are experiencing even more. I think this is a way to stay salty. I can plan a Tinker Bell party for an almost five year-old and the joy of this fuels me to work for every parent to be able to do the same. I can listen as she sings “This is my Fight Song!” and the joy of that moment fuels my next call to Don Bacon reminding him, not everyone gets to hear their child sing tonight and I want a world where they do. I want a world where kids go to school safe from gun violence. I want a world where difference is valued, and immigrants and refugees are greeted with open arms. I want earth as it is in heaven; a world where everyone goes to bed safe, loved and well-fed. We are called to this work by our faith. Our faith links us to unlikely blessings and if we are worth our salt, we will come alongside and change the world to make it give life. This week I invite you to pause and cultivate your joy. Pause and find your passion that can keep you salty in the best possible way.

May it be so! Amen

Rev. Debra

Friday, June 22, 2018

A Note of Gratitude to Rev. Dr. Jane Florence

Dear Abbey Friends and Family ,

Jane Florence is moving from FUMC Omaha to St. Paul’s UMC Lincoln. She has been a driver behind the Abbey’s emergence, and I am ever grateful for her leadership. I came to Omaha for an internship that I didn’t want. I had designed a plan with a different pastor and I was sure somehow this Texas woman appointed to be Senior Pastor was the clergy woman who questioned my fashion choices at a Perkins alumni event. I searched the internet and not one photo of this Jane Florence woman was available. It was a relief the first time I saw her.

I began my internship a month after she began her appointment. She was the first woman Senior Pastor and felt all of the pressure of not messing it up for every woman everywhere. I watched her navigate staff meetings, committee meetings, and community meetings, I took notes and wrote papers. I saw the realities of embodying ministry as a woman. I watched her handle comments and responses, some subtle and some shocking, that no man would have encountered... even in a progressive church... and I witnessed both her grace and strength in these moments. I witnessed her calm and resolved, and I thought to myself, "I would be on fire right now...or crying."

I am ever grateful that I came for internship and had the opportunity to stay. I am a better pastor because of my time with Jane--you see, once I get the hang of something I am often pretty solid at half-ass-ing it. Another Senior Pastor would have let me. I could have gotten by, but she expected the best. This expectation is driven as part stewardship of individual gifts and part stewardship of the church's mission, vision and resources. I came to Jane with a billion ideas... maybe not a billion but a lot of ideas, and not just ideas like can we put photos in the hallway, but ideas like let’s fold "origami electric chairs" at the end of this death penalty vigil, or let’s be Methodist and start a pub church or let’s open a coffee shop church. I find that most Associate Pastors with lots of ideas get two responses from a senior pastor: no with annoyance, or yes with indifference. They are equally unhelpful responses. But I asked Jane questions, and she cared enough to say no when needed to, and yes but keep thinking when needed. She refined ideas, grew them, shaped them, pushed back on them until they were better than they started. She helped make a path way for the important possibilities to find their way through in a powerful way.

As Urban Abbey began, she held a high standard of progress; she pushed, pulled and even protected. I often stopped in with a new idea, another idea, a slightly different idea or the same idea but again… until she consented to the whole unwieldy adventure, which proved to be even more wild and surpassing and hard than anyone could have imagined. Because she demand excellence, our grant application was shared across the jurisdiction as an model for others. I will forever be grateful for the opportunity to start the Urban Abbey, and I am ever convinced that the timing and the involvement of FUMC, The Nebraska Conference, and Soul Desires lined up in a way that, starting it today would be unlikely, if not impossible.

I have grown as a pastor in the last three years. I have developed new skills and better strategies. I have the benefit of coaching and of trying it on my own. It was a hard time on this journey. I wish, and frankly Jane probably wishes, I had developed some of these skills before 2015. Sometimes, it's just time to set out on your own and figure out who you are as a leader, and sometimes changing structures help change the possibilities for all the organizations involved, in this case both FUMC and the Urban Abbey changed. As we graduated into our own church and into a campus ministry, Jane continued to make a difference without holding a single staff meeting. She is the voice that asks, “Is that good enough for the vision?” I think, "Are you going to accept that?" when I see something that could be better, more welcoming, more inviting or more complete. There are a two reminders to me at the Abbey of when I didn’t push, didn’t steward the vision, and decided I didn’t want deal with the reality of pushing. Pushing does not make women likable, ambition and goals make folks want to use that phrase bossy or bitchy… Everyday I see these reminders of moments when I just took what felt easy and didn’t direct the action. They are a constant reminder of speaking up, and they tell me to get brave and take my call as steward of this vision seriously… even if it’s hard. I am convinced that Jane Florence has the biggest OVARIES in the Methodist Church, I have watched her drive toward the vision and I am grateful for the chance. Her voice is woven in the fabric of my leadership, and it is the strand that always reminds me to stand up, expect the best, and work for it… even if the work that is hard.

I am forever grateful and I am a better pastor because of my time learning with and from Jane. I am flourishing, and the Abbey is growing by leaps and bounds thanks be to God, great mentors and courageous leaders along the way.

I would invite you to think of the folks that have helped shape you and pause for a moment of gratitude for their time and teaching.

Your Friendly, Local Abbot,
Rev. Debra

Tuesday, June 12, 2018

Controlled Burns

By Maria Walker

When Debra asked me to preach it was a few weeks back, and the temperature had gone from, “Oh my word, will we ever not wear coats or see the sun again?” to “Y’all, this is the armpit of hell.” In the Walker home it felt like the never ending winter had apparated suddenly to go and torture some other climate’s psyche. But the folks in my social and professional circle were hyperfocused on how hot it had suddenly become. I get that Nebraskans like to talk about the weather, but in every conversation? Bless.

So, I was surrounded by talks of heat and the sun and feeling restrained by the burning temperature. I had to ask myself, “Self, is this the Holy Spirit, or climate change?” Which is a question I ask myself more than I care to admit. As a good human developmentalist, I decided the answer was both.

That brings us to our time today. If I am honest with myself, the image or fire and heat has been popping up in my life, particularly my spirituality, for quite sometime now. I recall journaling about my year in review as Joel was listening to bowl games this past December. Of course, I was listening as well (wink), but on the commercial breaks I would reflect on life and I could not shake the image of lighting a fire. My everyday conversations somehow often came to fires and burning brightly and this sense of heat.

Now, I recognize that for many folks, the connection of fire and spirituality and religion is…. How should I say this, troubling. When I mentioned to a fellow Abbey member I was preaching today, she asked, “Oh, what is your topic?” I said, “Fire and burning.” She looked a bit confused and said, “At the Abbey? You sure about that?”

Indeed, I am. Fire and burning bones. Another friend of mine asked, “So, is this like hell fire and damnation? Because I have heard those word from your mouth, Maria, but you were not in a church preaching.”  Oh, I was preaching… believe me, but today I am not talking about that kind of fire. That kind of fire evokes fear and anxiety. It's more in line with a raging fire that destroys and burns to the ground. Total destruction.

It's also not the type of fire to be endured for a process of refinement. It is something you can give.

The type of fire that keeps cropping up in my life is the idea of a controlled burn.

Controlled burns are intentional fires set to create change and growth in an ecosystem. Now, I acknowledge am not a fire ecologist. That's a real thing, by the way. I am moving a bit out of my lane here. But hang with me because I think the parallels between controlled burns and living our faith are worth exploring.

I want to note that these burns are actually referred to as “prescribed burns.” Yes, they are an actual way to remedy a situation. Not to evoke fear or the threat of damnation, but to create space for growth and emergence. They are healthy and necessary and desirable.

Let's look at today’s scripture.

Jeremiah 20:9 (NRSV)
If I say, “I will not mention him,
    or speak any more in his name,”
then within me there is something like a burning fire
    shut up in my bones;
I am weary with holding it in,
    and I cannot.

We hear the message of weariness not from doing too much, but not doing. The not doing creates the risk of the negative outcome, and the same is true for prescribed burns. Not being willing to go there creates a potentially dangerous environment.

The courage to lean into the heat that creates the fire that will create health takes a willingness to risk it.  I would say that not taking that risk is a recipe for danger as well.

See, prescribed burns reduce the risk of fatal fires. They are preventative in addition to being restorative. What would our community look like if we named those areas that could benefit from a prescribed burn? That may be able to grow and flourish with fire treatment? Would having the courage to ignite a spark burn away the restraints that keep people arrested in their pain and the shoulds of the world? Would that fire make space for God’s children, ALL God’s children to experience the joy of life?

I will tell you what I know about what happens after a prescribed burn. The land is healthy and fertile. Wildlife flourish. Biodiversity increases… Sign me up.

The burning fire that is shut up in our bones makes us weary. We cannot hold it in. Incapable of it even.  Fire treatments empower and give energy. Literally.

But these fires don't happen by accident. They require intentionality. Folks are monitoring things to gage the best timing and the best conditions for the most productive burn. Once those conditions are identified, someone has to be in charge of the treatment. Now, when I was doing a bit of research on this topic, I was desperately trying to find out what that person was called. Because that person has to have an amazing title, right? I was disappointed to say the least, but grateful to my friends Brett and Nathan and brother in law Brent for responding to my urgent texts. They shared with me this person is known as the fire manager. Fire manager? Surely that is not enough to capture the responsibility and awesomeness of such a person.

Not satisfied with fire manager, though it is correct, I saught another source for this answer and discovered these individuals are also called the burn boss. Burn boss.  Now that is more like it.

When our burning fire is shut up in our bones, we are weary. When we do not speak the gospel, and as Pastor Debra proclaimed last week, when we are not a voice of question with self and within our community,  and are not willing to be present in hard conversations rejecting absolutes, we are holding in that fire. Someone else is the burn boss. And they ain't calling for any treatments.

What would happen if we became burn bosses? Just imagine, we are all living into the energy that calls us to burn brightly in our community. We burn not to destroy or threaten or intimidate. We burn… and that light shines and makes space for restoration and healing and growth.

Before we go about the business of burning, I think some attention needs to be given to the things that ignite your internal fire.  Many of you know I work in youth development, and we call this spark. According to the Search Institute and the Thrive Foundation for Youth, sparks are “—the interests and passions young people have that light a fire in their lives and express the essence of who they are and what they offer to the world. Identifying those sparks, and pursuing them with the help of deep, supportive relationships, are critical components in the work of helping a young person thrive.”

Sparks insure that young people don't merely get by. They are not simply making it or surfing. Spark helps young people thrive.

The Search Institute goes in to identify that Sparks help young people “to be, and to feel, healthier. They tend to be less depressed, less worried, and more satisfied over- all. They place greater importance on being con- nected to school and making contributions to society, which are factors strongly related to school success indicators such as academic con- fidence and grades.”

Now, even as someone that spends the large majority of her week focused on positive youth development, I do not believe this is limited to youth. Sparking the essence of who we are and what we offer the world is a joy we can all experience. Those positive outcomes offered by the Search Institute in their research can be for you and you and you.

So, what is your spark? What pulls your attention? What keeps popping up in your life that you can no longer ignore? What is the thing you can no longer hold it in? What is the thing that let’s you love yourself and feel the Spirit moving? Knowing what sparks for you is critical in sharing that flame with others.

Once spark is ignited, how do we keep the flame burning? Oxygen breathes life into fire. Knowing what breathes life into you  can be key in sustaining the burn of your flame. As I mentioned earlier, fire talk has been a part of many of my conversations over the past few months. I recall a conversation I had with Joel about burn out and burn down. He pointed out to me that burn out and burn down are two separate things, but we may here the term burn out more frequently. This concept of our flame extinguishing from exhaustion is burn out. It's real, and so is burn down. Joel explained to me that he sees burn down as having the spark, but the fire has not been given the oxygen it needs to burn as well as it could. We can see there is a light, but it is not able to grow or share its energy. I believe communities like the one here at the Abbey can be a source of oxygen for our fires. Maybe it's an activity or some form of recreation that is your oxygen. It can be a physical space. And it can a ritual you keep with yourself. Sparking your flame and being your burn boss is nothing without the oxygen that breathes life into the fire.

Experiencing spark safely requires we not go at this alone. The burn boss has a team that monitors the fire and makes a pr scribed burn successful.  Who helps fan your flame? With whom do you experience deep, committed relationships that help you burn brightly or help you stay safe as you take the risk? Because  Remember, fires can get out of control… Let's not be naive about that. A team that is with you can help you boundary up. Those helping to fan your flame can keep the focus on the targeted area that best benefits from the burn. Be the burn boss. Be a teammate when others are burn bosses. Breathe life into sparks and fan flames for one another.

Because allowing the fire shut up in our bones to burn not only prevents our weariness, it sets our world a glow. We can burn away those things that are preventing our growth, and create a source of light to energize all of humanity.  That fire inside you may be the size of a match head, or a single candle. It may be the size of a brightly burning campfire. Whatever size it is, name it. Claim it. Be your burn boss. Energize others with your flame. Create a space of flourishing growth. Give light to the world so that we may all burn a little brighter and know the warmth found with speaking God’s love to humanity. May it be so. Amen.

Tuesday, June 5, 2018

Beyond Orthodoxy… Even a Progressive One

Scripture
Mark 2:23 - 3:6
23 One sabbath he was going through the grainfields; and as they made their way his disciples began to pluck heads of grain. 24 The Pharisees said to him, “Look, why are they doing what is not lawful on the sabbath?” 25 And he said to them, “Have you never read what David did when he and his companions were hungry and in need of food? 26 He entered the house of God, when Abiathar was high priest, and ate the bread of the Presence, which it is not lawful for any but the priests to eat, and he gave some to his companions.” 27 Then he said to them, “The sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the sabbath; 28 so the Son of Man is lord even of the sabbath.”

3:1 Again he entered the synagogue, and a man was there who had a withered hand. 2 They watched him to see whether he would cure him on the sabbath, so that they might accuse him. 3 And he said to the man who had the withered hand, “Come forward.” 4 Then he said to them, “Is it lawful to do good or to do harm on the sabbath, to save life or to kill?” But they were silent. 5 He looked around at them with anger; he was grieved at their hardness of heart and said to the man, “Stretch out your hand.” He stretched it out, and his hand was restored. 6 The Pharisees went out and immediately conspired with the Herodians against him, how to destroy him.

Sermon
This is a great story. I think we love moments like this in the Bible where Jesus is his most Jesusy self. He is upsetting people so much that two groups who don’t usually collaborate are working for his destruction, the religious establishment and the current political administration… working together… can you imagine that. And all because of a simple healing. We love watching him go rogue, that hippy Jesus healing on the Sabbath, it seems like a no-brainer, why wait to heal a man. This and other stories we love are always making the Pharisees look so inept and selfish; like they are heartless, power-hungry, regulation-loving jerks… to put it nicely.

We are probably not the first folks who love telling and reading stories like these with zeal. This is why, on more than one occasion I have heard adults say some variation of, “Well, Pastor, the Jews just liked rules, and we don’t need rules. We have Jesus, and we have love.” They say this to me like Jesus invented love and like Christians have not been making all kinds of rules and judgements for 2,000 years. They say this like we didn’t have an inquisition or blue laws or people excluding gay people or women or a host of other suboptimal moments in our Christian history. This trajectory, unchecked, has launched us into a shameful and sinful history of antisemitism for which we would do well to actively repent and help our fellow Christians study this faith with a little more depth and care. We read this passage and we somehow forget that Jesus is a Jewish man in conflict with the religious leadership of his own community, out of love for them. We read this and forget that these practices made him who he was and is to us today. We read this passage and, most dangerously, we forget that we probably have more in common with the Pharisees than we do with Jesus.

We are only two chapters in to the Gospel of Mark, and our readings today are part of a larger pattern. Jesus is in conflict with the religious authority, first for hanging out with sinners in general and tax collectors in particular, then his crew is not practicing the traditional fast… even John the Baptist’s people are practicing the fast right, and now he is raising the stakes by working on the sabbath and not only that… in the midst of his conflict, he is comparing himself the the greatest King in the History of Israel. The conflict is intentional, and if we were the Pharisees we would be annoyed too.

Jesus heals on the Sabbath. When we read these healing accounts we get caught up in the methods, it's a miracle to us because we don’t understand healing in the same way. This is my continual PSA on healing miracles: We should think of it as a different technology and open our eyes to the more challenging miracle about where and when. Healing happened in temples, the same things that Jesus does in the streets happen in the temples. There are ancient reviews... imagine Yelp reviews on stone tablets about healing. People who can’t see recover sight, and people who struggle with movement are able to walk, and people with skin ailments find healing. We shouldn’t assume ancient people are stupid and don’t understand when their body feels better. The thing that is a radical is not the method but the time and place. Jesus healing a man in the synagogue like a rogue MD setting up a free clinic in the lobby of the Med Center. Which would not go over well… I assume. It would be an epic scene even today. You can imagine it, some hippy in the lobby, and the resident calls the Chief of Surgery, Dr. McSmarty and the Chief of Medicine, Dr. McSteamy, and they have an epic debate; nobody is sure about this hippy’s license or who is liable for malpractice and if he is taking insurance and why he didn’t set up an appointment for a non-emergency on Monday like a normal doctor. It would end in an arrest, and Jesus would be banned and barred from the hospital. If they haven’t already, Grey’s Anatomy should make it an episode.

We can see how Jesus would be infuriating. There are reasons for regulations. I personally like knowing my doctor has a license to practice medicine... you probably do too. We can see why the Pharisees are asking questions about Jesus disregarding the Sabbath and the guidance of generations before him. The Sabbath is about rest; even his disciples deserve a rest. Rules and guidance and practices and regulations have purpose, they help us organize our lives, they keep us safe, and they give us a foundation upon which we can thrive… most of the time. But Jesus pushes the religious leaders further. He reminds them that structures can sometimes become rigid and constricting, calcified and frail. Regulations can become agents of harm, even when they were created--like the religious observance of the Sabbath--to give rest and renewal and life. That is why we have to push on institutions sometimes and ask hard questions, because sometimes there is need for change. That’s where Jesus is so much trouble, he pushed on the whole system. He questioned if a religious practice made the faithful indifferent to human suffering. He asks, how do we give life or deal death? How do we, even in seeking the Holy, distort God’s love? I suspect most of us would struggle to answer Jesus.  

When I think of these questions, I am quick to think of some loud Christian voices. I have felt particularly frustrated with the voices that dominate the Christian narrative in our country… for a long time, but even more so since they seem to be so connected to real power these days. This week, I listened to the sermon of the Senior Pastor of First Baptist Dallas, he is a frequent guest on Fox News and a pal of our current president. I have struggled with many of his pronouncements over his tenure in this powerful pulpit, particularly when I lived in Dallas and this church was an epicenter of hurt and what I would label “hate speech” toward LGBTQ+ folks. This week, I thought it would be fair if I actually listened to his sermon and tried to move past soundbites. He was preaching a sermon about angels, literal angels, dealing death or mercy or judgment or protection with weapons. It was a 40 minute sermon, and I admit I only made it four minutes, but somehow in the first four minutes he managed to point out that Christianity is superior to Judaism and every other faith, he named Jesus as more powerful, and us all as superior too. Like Jesus was into chanting, “We're #1!” and the disciples carried foam fingers around Galilee. He should have played, “We Are The Champions” in the background… he surely has the staff and logistics to do so. He did all of this, and it wasn’t even the main point of his sermon, just like a PSA about how Christians are ranked on top and better than everyone else.

His sermon this Sunday is titled, “America is a Christian Nation,” and I would argue that if that is true, we are failing. He will stand in his elaborate sanctuary, holding a Bible, and name a Christianity that will feel foreign, at least to me. I look at his title and I ask, “Is this a Christian nation when our leaders say taking a baby out of his mother’s arms is a reasonable strategy to deter immigration and just a matter of policy? Is this a Christian nation when access to health care is more privilege than basic right, and our for-profit prisons are having record profits? Is this a Christian nation when we love guns so much we sell them to everyone in the world, and in 2018, our schools proved more dangerous than military combat zones? Is this a Christian nation when eight white nationalists are openly running for office on a platform of hate? I have some expectations about what would make us Christian, and I don’t even think Jesus would want us to claim any nation as a Christian nation as much as he would want us to claim a path of peace and justice.”

It’s not hard to make a list of all the things that would define us as Christian… like, well, for starters you can’t walk around with signs that say God Hates… well… anybody. You should fight for health care for all people, you should advocate for public schools and better teacher pay, and you should take public transit, and you should only buy organic vegetables from local farmers and probably never shop at… well just about anywhere… forget shopping--that’s so complicated, we need a whole separate list. It becomes really easy to start a list and make an orthodoxy… even a progressive orthodoxy. And then do what they do… say who is in and who is out. Who is and who is not a Christian.

But the thing is I know how that feels, maybe you do too, when someone says, “You’re not a Christian.” I have had plenty of people question my identity as a Christian, some random and hurtful, and some professors and careful. And during seminary, I did too. In fact, a few weeks ago when I sat down after a sermon and Lila, in annoyance, said, “Mommy, why are you always talking about Jesus at the Abbey,” I wanted to send the quote to two professors in particular and say, “See!” It was probably one of the biggest validations I could have received about this Christian Identity I seek to carry.

When I was in seminary, Dr. Marjory Proctor-Smith listened to my questioning and she said, “Debra orthodoxy is a tool of oppression.” Orthodoxy is a tool of oppression; those lists and stories and right answers and creeds didn’t get to define me. They were tools for shaping and exploring, not limiting and controlling. Those tools are man made (usually literally man made). They have agendas sometimes, they can box us in right where we are not too dangerous or too lively. She freed me from orthodoxy, and it was liberating, and it was more work. Lists are easy, seeking is harder.

So what do we do if we can’t throw a list in someones face or etch 10 Bonus Commandments and put them outside First Baptist Dallas… you know for fun? I believe we are called to look to Jesus in this moment. He is constantly brushing into the dominate faith voices of his day, and rather than proposing a new orthodoxy, he is a asking questions. Asking about the practice of the Sabbath that deals death or gives life. We need to engage these questions in our own lives and in the life of our community. We need to speak up and say, “I am a Christian, and I believe we are called to welcome the refugee and the immigrant. It is a part of my faith.” I believe we are call to stand up and say, “I read the Bible, and I read that Jesus told Peter to put his sword away, and Isaiah wants to turn weapons into farm equipment.” I believe we can and should be voice of question and we should be ready to be in hard conversations and name where we are coming from. I believe it is up to us to reject absolutes in favor of conversation and compassion, to acknowledge the shades of gray and make room for depth over bumper-sticker statements. It is up to us to get serious and ask the hard questions of ourselves and our community daily: What gives live?

© Rev. Debra McKnight, Urban Abbey