Thursday, January 31, 2019

Not Quite Smashing the Patriarchy… But Trying Anyway.

Scripture 
Judges 4:4-5
At that time Deborah, a prophetess, wife of Lappidoth, was judging Israel. She used to sit under the palm of Deborah between Ramah and Bethel in the hill country of Ephraim; and the Israelites came up to her for judgement.

Sermon
In seventh grade at a weekend retreat for FCA, a young leader with probably 16 years of life experience said something to me like, “You know, there is a Deborah in the Bible.” Before I could even get the profound words, “Oh, cool,” past my lips, he concluded, “Yea, she killed a guy with a stake and a hammer.” Oh… NOT Cool. So that pretty much killed my interest in this Deborah of the Bible. Some years later, when I was exploring seminary, my pastor gave me a book with images of women leaders in the Bible, and one image depicted Deborah weaving baskets. Which seems nice, right? But not true. None of it. She is not a basket weaver and she never killed a guy with a tent stake… someone else in her story did that.

What we do know about Deborah is that she was a prophet. She may not be one of the major prophets like Isaiah or Jeremiah, or even a minor prophet with her own book title, but she was a prophet like Moses, Miriam, and Aaron before her. This meant she had the work of listening to God on behalf of and through the whole of her community. This work meant nudging and urging, challenging and reminding God’s people of their covenant or partnership with God. So she was a prophet and even a poet, chanting hymns like Moses and Miriam. She was also a judge; one of 12 Judges with the work of guiding her people, settling disputes, helping people move on from wrongs and hurts so those wounds would not fester and break the community apart. We know she had a palm tree office located between two communities… and while we don’t know this, I like to imagine it as a bit of an oasis, with shade above and a view out in front of her and relationships restored… a pretty great courtroom, if you will. We also know she was a wife. At first glance, you might have the same response I did. When Amos was announced as prophet, he wasn’t noted as Amos, husband of Gomar. And while we might be familiar with a history of this kind of treatment of women, scholars point to something more. Wife of Lappidoth could mean a particular household, but many suggest it means something more about her relationship to the whole people of Israel. It could be translated woman of fire, woman of spirit, woman with torches, or spirited woman. And so when we gather all those images together for our modern English-speaking brains, Deborah looks like one bad ass woman. Spirited and powerful and not someone to mess with a pillar of fire, one even suggests. A women who earned every inch of her authority to lead, giving valued judgements, holding the heart of her peoples’ hopes in her role as a prophet.

Historians point to moments when the culture is unsure as a prime time for non-traditional leaders.  The structures that dictate what a leader should look like or from whom they ought to decent give way to effectiveness. It was an uncertain time in Israel, between Moses and Joshua bringing the people to a promised land, and before kings like David and Saul and Solomon. And there was a period of conflict with the Canaanites, a back and forth power struggle that put the loser's lives in a space of vulnerability. Deborah led at such a time. We know it because there is this litany…“The Israelites did what was evil in the sight of the Lord,” beginning in Chapter Four.

The Israelites again did what was evil in the sight of the Lord, after Ehud died. So the Lord sold them into the hand of King Jabin of Canaan, who reigned in Hazor; the commander of his army was Sisera, who lived in Harosheth-ha-goiim. Then the Israelites cried out to the Lord for help; for he had nine hundred chariots of iron, and had oppressed the Israelites cruelly for twenty years. (4:1-3)

This is where Deborah took authority - and as she was working from her Palm Tree office, she sensed it is time to make a change. And she did something different from most of the male leaders in the biblical narrative; she sought help. She called a man named Barak (his name meant lightning), and she told him it was time to destroy their oppressors, the Canaanite king with his general and his 900 iron chariots. Barak, despite his name being powerful, was probably a thinking man; and this task seemed like a pretty big gamble. Further provoking the hand of their oppressor could prove even more deadly to the whole people of Israel. And so he responds:

Barak said to her, ‘If you will go with me, I will go; but if you will not go with me, I will not go.’ 9 And she said, ‘I will surely go with you; nevertheless, the road on which you are going will not lead to your glory, for the Lord will sell Sisera into the hand of a woman.’ Then Deborah got up and went with Barak to Kedesh.

He risked the glory that would have been his had he gone it alone. The scripture shares a story of confusion among Sisera’s forces and perhaps those 900 iron chariots are not so great when they are swept away, just like the chariots of Egypt before them.  

‘The kings came, they fought; then fought the kings of Canaan, at Taanach, by the waters of Megiddo; they got no spoils of silver. 20 The stars fought from heaven, from their courses they fought against Sisera. 21 The torrent Kishon swept them away, the onrushing torrent, the torrent Kishon. March on, my soul, with might! (5:19-21)

Perhaps all the iron on those chariots didn’t work out this time, and the whole army was reported dead. But the story continues with Sisera on foot, the general away from his ride seeks out the help of a woman.

18 Jael came out to meet Sisera, and said to him, ‘Turn aside, my lord, turn aside to me; have no fear.’ So he turned aside to her into the tent, and she covered him with a rug. 19 Then he said to her, ‘Please give me a little water to drink; for I am thirsty.’ So she opened a skin of milk and gave him a drink and covered him. 20 He said to her, ‘Stand at the entrance of the tent, and if anybody comes and asks you, “Is anyone here?” say, “No.” 21 But Jael wife of Heber took a tent-peg, and took a hammer in her hand, and went softly to him and drove the peg into his temple, until it went down into the ground—he was lying fast asleep from weariness—and he died.  (4:18-21)

Wouldn’t it have been easier if we had stopped after that part about the palm tree… and just skipped this ugly death stuff? Israel was free… or at least freer.  Deborah, Barak, and Jael were heroes. A song of victory was sung and yet looking back today, we are left wondering if they could have achieved their freedom through peace rather than old school military conflict. It’s not exactly pretty or the happy outcome we would like, and since our lives are not hanging in the balance, it is easy to have an opinion about Deborah.

There have been women looking to Deborah, despite this violence, as an example of leadership. Given so few examples in our tradition, it can be easy to see why we might. Early Queens of England and Scotland (frequently named Mary) lifted Deborah as a woman in whose footsteps they might follow. Others disagreed. John Knox, Presbyterian cleric, praised Deborah, even while suggesting women in his own time were unfit to lead. My favorite part of his objection to their leadership is the bold title of his essay “The First Blast of the Trumpet against the Monstrous Regiment of Women.” In 1558 he wrote, “Exempted by God from the common malediction given to women and against nature HE made her prudent in council, strong in courage, happy in regiment and a blessed mother and deliverer to HIS people.” This statement makes me want to celebrate Deborah and raises my gratitude that Queen Elizabeth took such offense to it that she would later limit Knox’s involvement in re-establishing the Church of England. Knox was not the first man to struggle with Deborah; her leadership was omitted in Hebrews when Barak comes up in Chapter 11. The same happened in 1 Samuel Chapter 12.

She however, survived the generations of edits and translations and invites us to look on her leadership. While some women have cheered at the thought of her, others have been disappointed, hoping for more. Her leadership used the same old tools of violence as every other leader. She might have fought for the right reason but, we might argue, she used the wrong means to her end. Elizabeth Cady Stanton commented on this piece of the Bible as disgusting, and noted particularly how Jael misuses the sacred work of hospitality.

So are those the only choices - total affirmation or total disregard? What if we could name our really high expectations of one female leader in the face of patriarchy? It is easy to hope that one leader makes all the difference, but we have seen how one black president didn’t end racism and white supremacy in our historically racist country. Today three women are running for President of the United States. They will make mistakes, people will complain about their pant suits being two boxy or perhaps not boxy enough, people will worry that they are to emotional or perhaps not emotional enough, people will wonder if they cry or don’t cry, it they are likable, and it will not stop even if one of them is sworn in as Commander in Chief. We have a history of imperfect leaders, who use even with good intentions the tools of patriarchy. Deborah is imperfect, Stanton is imperfect, King is imperfect, but they have a legacy to teach us about moments of change. We know the names of King and Mandela and Gandhi and we know that they were part of mass movements, fueled by hundreds and thousands of others putting their hearts and lives on the line to make the world different, seeking peace through peace.  

The thing about learning from Deborah is we can celebrate how she partnered, how she stood with her people, mended broken relationships as a judge, offered wise counsel and was deemed a woman of fire and spirit. And we can name how we wish she had done things differently. But doing that is only fair if we are brave enough to turn our gaze inward, and root out what we must change about ourselves. How we must be different to participate in the waves of change and transformation we seek. Leadership is a tender art, it is challenging to embody, and transformation is not the work of one, it is the work of many. Deborah did not allow the system to define her out of the work she knew she could do because of her gender, and we can learn from her to find and follow our calling for the community's greater good.

Our faith is born of the hope of ending systems of violence and control. The patriarchy is as old as history, it teaches that some are above others, and it teaches everyone to know their place. Typically maleness is on top, always wealth is on top, in America whiteness is on top, and cisgender heterosexuality is on top. But our faith, even for all the ways it is corrupted by the power of the patriarchy, works to flatten the system and bring everyone to the table. We hear it in Mary, lifting up the lowly and the wealthy coming down from their high places. We hear it in Jesus, proclaiming “Good news to the poor.”And we hear it in Paul, “There is no more male or female, slave or free, Jew or Gentile,” and we could add today citizen or immigrant, rich or poor. In fact we could go on and on removing the false barriers that the patriarchy creates. Because that is our job, that is the work of our faith. We are not going to do that perfectly. We will probably say the wrong thing, and we will hurt someone’s feelings, and we will have to learn and grow and do better. Our leaders are imperfect, but it is not on them alone.

This is the real and challenging work of our faith. Our covenant at baptism asks if one professes faith in God and commits to the dangerous road of salvation traveled by Jesus. The next questions call us to a special reflection today: Do you renounce the spiritual forces of wickedness, reject the evil powers of this world and repent of your sins? Do you accept the freedom and power God gives you to resist evil, injustice and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves?

Do you? Do you want to work on that together? That is the heart of our faith.

Rev. Debra McKnight
Founding Pastor

© 2019 Rev. Debra McKnight, Urban Abbey

Wednesday, January 23, 2019

Martha, Martha, Martha

A Sermon by Reverend Debra McKnight
Preached at Urban Abbey on January 20, 2019

Scripture
Luke 10:38-42

Sermon
“Martha. Martha. Martha.” If you Google Mary and Martha coloring sheets, you will find almost every image contains woman so frantic she hasn’t the time to set down her mixing bowl before bursting into an otherwise calm room. Mary looks so sweet and calm, quiet and attentive. Martha looks like an irate Julia Child, flour dusting her hair as she demands Jesus send her sister to work in the kitchen. Well that’s what we assume anyways. This passage comes with generations of stereotypes and assumptions. Martha is demanding and bossy—or maybe that other word that starts with a B. Martha and Mary play into our narratives about women leaders; how girls cannot support girls; how we should be weary of women with authority or power or intentions and goals. Martha is always painted as trying to keep her sister down and Jesus, the great feminist liberator, says no, Mary gets to stay and learn. Mary gets to be in the presence of God; she has chosen the better part.

In art and in the bulk of Christian teaching over the past 2000 years, Martha’s busyness has been held in contrast to Mary’s quiet learning. Martha is busy with the flour dusting her hair, the tables to be set, and the chickens to be plucked. Mary is quiet, learning, listening and Martha needs her help, or demands Jesus send Mary to help. Pastors have often preached this message as a reason to listen to the sermon or participate in Sunday school, but the Marthas in the room were probably setting up the fellowship meal and or weeding the church lawn.

In one of the first sermons on this passage, Origen, invited Christians to see Mary as the example of reflection and Christian discipleship. Later Protestant folks, like John Calvin, would move the model of discipleship away from a life of contemplation towards one of service and practice. In their preaching they acknowledge the importance of Martha’s work (even if they want to stay as far away as possible from works righteousness). The tender balance invites us to honor Martha just a little more. It makes sense..the “Protestant Work Ethic” had to start somewhere and it must have started with Martha.

When I hear the story of Mary and Martha, I hear it through a long line of Marthas. I hear Martha in my great grandma’s stories. She was the oldest daughter of 13 children and she worked, every day of her life setting the table, making the meal and welcoming guests into her home. Once while washing dishes, she shared the story of how her younger sister, my great aunt Lou, always managed to go to the outhouse when the work in their childhood kitchen got busy. Which, I think is a lot of dedication to getting out of work. But I understood the point of her story, hard work is what we value.
Leaders like Elisabeth Schussler Fiorenza and more recently Mary Stromer Hansen have invited us to look again at the work in which Martha is engaged. If we look closely at the Greek language of our text, it raises the question of why do we always put Martha in the kitchen? And worse yet, make her the woman trying to keep her sister in the kitchen and out of the classroom. Maybe we don’t have to pit them against each other. Maybe there is something more to their work then we imagine. Perhaps we have been the people that put Martha in the kitchen rather than the Gospel of Luke.
The language of welcome that Martha offers to Jesus, is the same language used in Acts 17:7 when the disciples welcomed by a man named Jason. The language of welcome connected to Martha is the same as the language used later in the Gospel of Luke when Zacchaeus (Luke 19:6) welcomes Jesus into his home. We might remember Zaccheaus as the vertically challenged tax collector that is transformed when Jesus joined him for dinner. For some reason, we never imagine Zaccheus or Jason, running around baking a souffle and setting the table. We don’t imagine them checking in on the disciples, managing food preferences, and making a list: Andrew, James, and John are pescatarian; Mary Magdalene is on the Keto diet; Judas and Peter are gluten free. No, we never expect that when a male head of the household extends the welcome. Perhaps it is hard for us and our historic cultures to imagine Martha in ownership and authority, especially when women’s ability to own property and take authority has often been so limited. Martha’s welcome into her household is sacred hospitality. It harkens back to the scriptures that Jesus and Peter, Mary, and Martha would have studied, where Abraham entertains three strangers whom turn out to be angels offering a divine blessing. Abraham leads the work of hospitality and we never imagine him doing all of the work alone. He enlists help, Sara makes cakes, servants prepare a calf, and he entertains the guests with curds and milk. This is the sacred work of hospitality, and we find Martha’s story in the current of this ancient work. Perhaps she isn’t keeping her sister down as much as she is including her in the sacred work.

Maybe we don’t have to put Martha in the kitchen. The work or service the Bible names of her is named in other places. We might translate the Greek into service and work, but it is a term for faith community leadership, it is ministry. The disciples use this word when they talk about replacing Judas and finding a new apostle in the book of Acts. Martha is busy. She is busy in ministry, busy in service is of word and table. She may be using her hands to prepare bread, but she might also be breaking it. She might be using her hands to touch the untouchable and heal people longing for wholeness, just like Jesus taught her. She may be teaching and preaching and organizing, just like Jesus taught her. And that work can be overwhelming.

This is where Martha names her need for help. This is where Martha names that she needs some support from her sister. Perhaps they are a team, setting the table together since they were children, but perhaps now they are a team in ministry. Perhaps they were a part of the 70 that Jesus sends out in the verses before. Maybe that is why Martha invites Jesus to her home. Perhaps she had learned what it felt to be welcomed or rejected by strangers. Perhaps Martha has been so inspired by Jesus that she has a two year strategic plan for ministry in her home town of Bethany and beyond. When the Bible says “Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet” it could also say, Mary who also sat at the Lord’s feet. Perhaps Martha was in the session and stepped out to care for some ancient Mediterranean “email” about an upcoming event. We are left to imagine what is keeping her busy. But it is clear that she is feeling the pressure of the work in which she is engaged. Which brings us to the response Jesus offers. “Martha, Martha you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing…” This is not the only time the Gospel of Luke places this phrase on the lips of Jesus. In Luke 18:22, Jesus encounters a figure we often call the “rich young lawyer.” This young man seeks Jesus out, names all the successes he has had in following the commandments since his birth and then seeks assurance that his good living will get him into the Kingdom of Heaven. Jesus responds, ”you have need of only one thing” or “you lack one thing.” His prescription for the rich young man is to sell everything he has, give the money to the poor, and then follow Jesus. The young man goes away grieving.

Martha prescription isn’t named in her passage like the rich young lawyer’s. But, it is clear that she found it because she journeys with Jesus to the end of his earthly ministry. It is also apparent that Jesus makes her home in the city of Bethany his home base — as much as he makes any place his home. The narrative says Martha is worried and distracted, but this language is different from being unable to focus (like look, squirrel!). It refers to an ongoing state of being overburdened, being pulled away. Perhaps Martha has forgotten the one thing because she relied on her own labor, her own production, her own drive rather than pausing to refresh in God’s presence. Perhaps she, like many of us, thought one more message, one more conversation, one more email needs to be sent, one more spreadsheet, one more...and then realized there was no time to center, study and recharge. Maybe she looked around at the folks in the group and thought, Peter keeps messing up, James and John aren’t much better, I’m the only one that can get this done. And so here she has a moment of real discipleship with Jesus. Jesus models again and again to pause with action, to center, study and pray before and after serving, working, listening, and leading. Jesus pauses, with Martha. He teaches and re-teaches her just like he does with Peter, James, John and the rest; and so we are asked, with Martha, to find the one thing.

The gift, of course, for the Martha in all of us is that we don’t have to seek after that one thing we lack alone. We gather and pause. We gather and listen. We gather to be Martha and Mary on a journey together. We gather in this place to be honest about feeling overwhelmed and to receive honest feedback that maybe this feeling isn’t Mary’s fault but something we must own. We gather to honor the diversity of gifts and possibilities that we can unleash when we find, follow and explore the "one thing.”
May it be so. Amen.

Thursday, January 17, 2019

The One Church Plan, The Traditionalist Church Plan, Or The Gay Church Plan... This February, We Will Know!

“Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never ends. But as for prophecies, they will come to an end; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will come to an end. For we know only in part, and we prophesy only in part; but when the complete comes, the partial will come to an end. When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways. For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.”
   -1 Cor 13 4-13


Friends,

In February you may see national headlines where some United Methodists say some terrible things about LGBTQ folks. And you may think to yourself… wait…I  am going to a Methodist Church, and we march in PRIDE Parade and we have a campus ministry called QueerFaith on Campus, and we have a National Coming Out Day worship service… and we include everyone. And you would be correct.

We are part of a larger denomination that is a global church in conflict. Since the 1970’s…every four years at General Conference (Methodist Olympics) our church has been in public debate about the tension of where we are and where we long to be. I have chosen to be a part of the United Methodist church to push for change. Every year we grow closer and at the same time every year, there are more delegates from countries in the world where LGBTQ people can be punished, violently by the state for simply being who they are. We are a global church, and including global voices is often complicated. In fact, if this was simply an American vote it would have passed more than 12 years ago. It is not our vote, it is a global vote, and that pushes progressives, like me, on inclusion as well.

The good news is we are not alone in conflict and division. The truth is the church has been in conflict from the beginning. When Paul writes this poetry about love… he wasn’t thinking about a cute couple getting married in Corinth. He was writing to a church in conflict. The church was struggling to be the church, the wealthy feasting communion before the folks with less control over their schedules could arrive. The church was struggling to live into the way Jesus taught and not just in Corinth but everywhere. Almost immediately after Jesus’s death, the challenge of embodiment begins. The Gospel story ends with the imperative to go to the ends of the earth, baptize, include, transform, and it turns out when you go to the ends of the earth… well not everyone is circumcised. It turns out, circumcision is a big deal… and adult men who may feel inspired to live like Jesus may not like such an intense entry ritual into the fledgling Christians community. This was one of the first great tensions, and the debate shapes who we are today. The early church dove into scripture and when I say scripture, I don’t mean Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John… I mean the scripture that Jesus studied like the prophets and the Pentateuch and the tradition in which he was rooted. Circumcision was the was the sign of the covenant with God, the symbol of connection in relationship with God’s presence and promise. And the early church discerned, do we live into the letter of the law or the spirit of the law? Do we find other ways to symbolize this covenant or is this ritual essential for new people, is it essential to their faithfulness? Ultimately the early church choose inclusion, they choose and adaptive interpretation of ancient scriptures, a testament to a living faith and the practice of faith that is expected of each of us.

Our church is working through a modern tension but we have roots that can point the way forward. Two years ago the church almost split, and in an effort to keep the most people in community so we can do the most ministry together, the Bishops appointed a “Commission on the Way Forward.” This team of diverse voices went to work and developed two plans. One plan creates three church bodies, a progressive, a moderate or contextual, and a traditional church, all linked to each other for some shared ministry but each with the freedom to make choices regarding LGBTQ clergy and weddings. The other plan developed is the One Church Plan; it in a sense allows what exists now to exist in the future… without worry. It is contextual in the sense that local churches can make choices about weddings and an annual conference can make choices about queer clergy. Currently, the coasts have moved forward, ordaining LGBTQ clergy and presiding over weddings for same sex couples. In fact, the Western Jurisdiction (all the conferences from the Pacific ocean to the Rocky Mountains) has elected the first openly gay Bishop (http://www.umc.org/bishops/bishop-karen-oliveto). She is amazing, and it seems there is nothing the folks the South East and South Central can do about it... and believe me, they have tried. We are not in one of the jurisdictions that have moved forward, we are not of one mind in the Great Plains, and so we still reside in tension and I am ever mindful of this in our ministry.

To make matters, in my opinion, worse, three bishops who won’t own their work but are pretty easy to identify, have made a third plan, called the Traditionalist Plan. These bishops are fulled by an organization called the the Wesley Covenant Association, which may as well be wearing red hats that say Make Methodism Great Again. This Traditionalist Plan doubles down on the language that I long to change in our book of discipline, language that excludes LGBTQ folks while at the same time suggesting this does not make them heterosexist. This plan makes punishments and trials for folks like Bishop Karen Oliveto mandatory.

In response I would like to propose a fourth plan, I call it "The Gay Church Model” with only queer clergy… the rest of us will renounce our credentials, and only gay weddings… no matter how cute the straight couple might be. As they object, I believe it will at the very least invite them to understand how I feel about their plan. The WCA and their Traditionalist Plan may be leaning into a time when the church was at its largest and powerful in a conventional way. And there might be important learnings for us from the 1950s, but I suspect that has more to do with the post-war programs like The GI Bill and VA Home loans, as well as corporate structures that provided better middle class wages for a greater shared prosperity than it has to do with women staying home and queer people staying in the closet. The truth is the world has already moved forward, and the Traditionalist Plan may allow for a denomination to exist two or three more decades but there is no future in the Traditionalist Plan. Tradition can be valued without rooting us to our past sins and mistakes. Tradition can be valued for the launch pad it gives us into the future and the spirit of those radical reformers who went before us to make our traditions worthy of the people we invite into the church.

I ask you to join me in praying for the delegates whom have been elected by our Great Plains Conference (Nebraska and Kansas) and the delegates from around the world who will journey to St. Louis in February. I do not know what will happen. I do know that I am grieved for the future brokenness that we will witness, the potential exit of many conservatives or perhaps many progressives, the potential brokenness in local congregations where people will unintentionally, and perhaps intentionally, hurt one another with words and votes and debates. Church people typically do this over much less… you know, over things like tables, carpet colors, or if mustard should be in potato salad... and now we will have a decision point that will potentially cut even more deeply into people's hearts when a church lady hears her friend name her granddaughter a sinner. I am grieved at the idea of the church I grew up in splitting apart.

But I am not worried. I am not worried because I believe, even as it is painful, we will find a way forward and we will not be alone. I believe in our denomination, denominations connect us to something larger then ourselves, they root us in community, they hold us accountable, and life as an independent religious guru or independent community seems to be one of the fastest ways to what Lila would call… “bad choices,” most of which relate to power and the abuse of money or sex. I am not afraid, because we will have a community. I am not worried, because I believe in our conference. Even through we are pretty far from the coasts, as a place with a fair number of ‘traditionalists” votes and voices, we were planted as an inclusive faith community, and they have invested more than half a million dollars in our work. We push the boundaries and dance on the edge, and even our once conservative Bishop, Scott J. Jones,  has stood by me when I needed him too. That is support and the kind of financial support other mainline denominations simply could not have mustered. Connectionalism is powerful, and we, I believe, are one of the best examples of what churches can do together. We have received everything I have ever asked for. That doesn’t mean it has always been easy, but if that isn’t a blessing then I don’t know what is.

I am not worried; I believe our past points to our future. We are the church of Wesley. Our Book of Discipline makes theology our task and faith a practice. Wesley believed in holiness that was social, “there is no holiness without social holiness.” His practice of faith took him into the world, transformation of self was for the transformation of the world. He believed in Bible study, small groups, prayer, and communion as a means of grace, but that grace took you into the world. Wesley launched schools for children who wouldn’t have had a chance otherwise, it is obvious that if he believes faith requires everyone to participate in the theological task… then everyone needs to know how to read, everyone needs the critical thinking skills… not just a few leaders or a pastor. They built schools and health clinics, they asked everyone to give, and out of the shared resources they made micro loans to help people out of poverty. He took the powerful to task ,seeking reforms on taxes that kept so many people poor. Methodists addressed poor labor conditions, fielded the labor movement, and worked to abolish slavery.

Wesley spent time with vulnerable people, and I believe his legacy calls us to do the same. I am not worried because we have disagreed before. In the 1950s the debate was around women’s ordination, and there are plenty of Bible verses that you could use to tell me to sit down and shut up… but the church ordained me, so I’m not going to. We have disagreed from the very start, and while we may have settled the circumcision tension carried by the early church, it taught us about interpretation of scripture and listening to the Holy Spirit's guidance. Wesley gave us the tools in our theological task and in our practice of faith, he gave us a shared method placing scripture alongside tradition and the questions of is this reasonable and what’s my experience.

I am not afraid. We will settle the tension around LGBTQ inclusion in the larger church and no matter what happens in February, we will be a place of love and inclusion for all people.

All will be well… even if it's not always pretty getting there. When you see the news in February, do not be afraid, we will be the church of inclusion.

From your friendly local Abbot,

Rev. Debra McKnight

Tuesday, January 8, 2019

Choosing Epiphany

A Sermon by Dr. Carole Patrick
Preached at Urban Abbey on January 6, 2019


Today we celebrate Epiphany, which is officially the 12th day of Christmas – that day in the song when you receive 12 drummers drumming. Perhaps more important, but less known, Epiphany is the day associated with the visit of the Magi (3 Kings) to Joseph, Mary and baby Jesus in Bethlehem

Scripture tells us the 3 Kings followed a star and arrived in Bethlehem to celebrate the birth of a Savior. It represents a time when Jesus as Savior was revealed to the human race. The 3 Kings came, they saw, they believed, they gave gifts, later they shared Jesus’ existence with others. In Europe, where Epiphany is more widely celebrated than in the US, they also include in their celebration a recognition of the time when Jesus first performed miracles: when he turned water into wine; when he began to heal people. So it’s a celebration of God being present among us; God in active relationship with us.

As I was thinking about it being Epiphany, I began to wonder why this isn’t something more widely celebrated? In fact, I created a new verb – with apologies to all of my college professors – I’m wondering why it seems we don’t EPIPH much anymore? i.e., celebrate God’s presence among us? And if I’m not spending much time EPIPHING, is it possible I’m no longer expecting God to be revealed to me or in us?

I’m thinking if I really want to EPIPH (experience God), then I should be expecting God, looking for God, believing in God’s presence today and every day. And that lead me to think about a favorite book of mine and the Scripture you heard this morning from Luke 7. The book is called The Prisoner in the Third Cell, by Gene Edwards. In it, Edwards weaves the beautiful story of the contrasting ministries of John the Baptist and Jesus.

John, after the death of his parents, chose to live in the desert – praying, fasting, living in restraint and simplicity, functioning as a prophet of God and urging people – with very strong words (in your face!) to repent and await the coming of Jesus Christ. After criticizing King Herod one too many times, he was arrested and became that prisoner in the third cell.

Jesus’ public ministry, by contrast, seemed kind of cushy. He drank wine; he accepted invitations to weddings and banquets, he told interesting and sometimes humorous parables. And he had this amazing power to perform miracles.

After John was imprisoned, he sent his disciples to see Jesus in the village of Nain (Luke 7), where Jesus was preaching and healing people. John told them to ask, “Are you the Messiah, or should we look for someone else?” Jesus’ response – “The blind see, the lame walk, and the deaf hear. The gospel is being proclaimed and received with gladness – and men and women are being set free. And blessed are those who are not offended with me.” I have to be honest and tell you that last sentence has always seemed a bit strange to me.

John’s disciples returned to the prison and told him this. The only other question John asked was if EVERYONE was healed. That also seems like a strange question to me! His disciples responded that many were healed, but not ALL. In fact, Scripture says as John’s disciples left Jesus in Nain, there was a long line of people waiting to see him. But after talking with John’s disciples, Jesus got up and walked away. And I have always wondered, who was next in line? “And blessed are those who are not offended with me.”

I imagine a blind old man was guided back to his home by a friend left wondering what sight might have been like. “And blessed is he who is not offended with me.”

What if a mother returned home with her young daughter who would forever remain disfigured because of a childhood accident? Both would wonder through their lives why Jesus didn’t stay a little longer. “And blessed is she who is not offended with me.”

A sick baby would die. A deaf mute would spend the rest of his life begging at the city gate. Worst of all – there would seem to be no explanation from God. “And blessed are those who are not offended with me.”

Edwards says in his book there are days we come face to face with a God we do not understand. Such is the mystery of God’s sovereignty. Things seem to work out in ways different than we expect. “Why doesn’t God answer me?” “Why would God allow this to happen?” Some of us feel abandoned and angry. Edwards suggests the appropriate question may not be, “why do bad things happen?” Rather: “Do I choose to believe in a God I do not understand?”

And blessed are you when you can live in this gracious uncertainty, continuing to believe in a God who promised to never leave you or forsake you; whose answers are not predictable but who is present and just as available today as that first EPIPHANY with the Magi.

Dr. Brene Brown (sociologist) has done some fascinating research and writing on the connection between humans. At the beginning of her study, she found it interesting that when people were asked about some of the elements of connection, they spoke of them as their opposite:

When asked about love – they spoke of heartbreak

When asked about belonging – they spoke of exclusion

When asked about connection – they spoke about disconnection

And there was an underlying current of FEAR when it came to connecting to others that was manifested in this phrase: I’m not ____ enough. Brown spent six years interviewing people and studying data, and when she looked at what variables were separating those who truly felt love or belonging or connection from those who didn’t, one thing stood out: those who felt it BELIEVED they were worthy. Brown called it the courage to be imperfect or whole hearted.

So true connection with others is a result of authenticity (communicating with heart); and it was people who were willing to let go of who they think they should be to be who they ARE who truly connected with others. They were willing to invest in something that might not work. They were will to risk. They were willing to be VULNERABLE.

Another big discovery for Brown was that vulnerability appears to be the birthplace of joy, creativity, belonging and love: “Why do we struggle with connection? Because we prefer to numb ourselves instead of feel vulnerable. We are the most in debt, obese, addicted, medicated adult cohort in US history. When faced with difficulty, we hide behind a glass of wine, a banana nut muffin, some Xanax and a little online shopping.”

We can’t numb bad emotions and hard feelings without also numbing joy, gratitude, and happiness; they’re part of a continuum. Have you ever seen an up without a down? A front without a back? A top without a bottom? You can’t have one without the other. If you take away sad, you take away happy too.

Brown suggests there is another way – it involves allowing ourselves and others to BOTH be imperfect AND worthy of love and belonging. When we take risks, when we act vulnerable, when it doesn’t go the way we expected – BLESSED are you! You are still loved and you still belong in your perfectly imperfect state.

How do we keep going?

Practice gratitude and joy (practice becomes habit)

Be kinder to yourself and others (practice becomes habit)

Remember the good (hearts changed)

So I’m encouraging myself and you to EPIPH. To believe that God can still be experienced today among our joys and sorrows; within our celebrations and our disappointments. If we look and if we choose. If we choose to EPIPH – if we look around us with a bit of that vulnerability that Brown talked about – I believe we will see God revealed in the faces and lives and experiences of those we love, of those we like, of those we don’t like so much, and of those with whom we’re in community and relationship.

God is present in the birthing room and the funeral home. In the homeless shelter and in the comfort of your living room. In the catastrophes and in the blessings. In the love and in the hate. In your sadness and in your joy – IF YOU CHOOSE.

May we be a people who never stop choosing Epiphany.