A Sermon by Reverend Debra McKnight
Preached at Urban Abbey on March 24, 2019
Scripture
1 Corinthians 13: 4-8
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.
Sermon
In January, I was driving home from presiding at Trudy’s funeral. I had helped preside in the service out of care for her daughter, Brenda, and grandson, Tarron. It was an honor to learn more of her story and I was grateful that she had come to the Abbey and liked it, because now I knew her standards were high, very high. Driving home I kept replaying the stories: she was attentive to details. She saw her grandchildren so well that she could shop for them, pick out their outfits, and they liked them…not every Grandma has this kind of superpower! She loved details. At every family dinner, she made sure everyone had their favorites.
She loved details not just in her personal life, but also her professional life. She nurtured countless children managing her own in-home daycare and she ran two diners. I think executives in the highest office corner office would be amazed by the details required to run a café. Trudy paid attention to the whole room and the person ordering, she kept in tune with the food coming out and the people coming in, she kept the counter staffed and the tables clean, the kitchen stocked and the cooks on their toes. She understood hospitality was in the details and staying in-tune with the details means staying in-tune with people. She managed the details with grace and care. The stories of the people who loved her most reflected how much those details mattered. Love was in the details.
Thinking about Trudy reminded me not only of the importance of details but how she stood in direct conflict with that phrase, “The Devil is in the details.” It’s a phrase we probably use when we miss the details, that denotes how details are complicated and important. Sometimes we make a mistake and sometimes details are used to be tricky, like when you need a law degree to click “ok” before purchasing music on iTunes. The German origins of this phrase may actually be less about the Devil and more about the divine, “God is in the details.” And while the origins of the phrase are hazy, it gives us a sense that details, and the care of them, are sacred; missing the details is tricky, and using the details against someone…well, that is a little devilish. But caring for the details, that seems to be divine.
Love is expressed in the details. I believe 1 Corinthians 13 (one of Paul’s greatest hits) is actually about the details. Paul is writing about love and it is not because a cute couple is getting married at First Church Corinth. Paul is writing to the church because they are envious, boastful, and rude; he knows because he has heard details. Folks are not patient or kind. We understand this if we have been in meetings (church or otherwise). We have witnessed, or perhaps even participated in, the meetings after the meetings, seen the eye rolling, or heard harsh remarks. I have witnessed church meetings spiral downhill quickly, with folks saying things they shouldn’t. I was in a meeting where a church leader responded to my mom’s willingness to make cookies for us to give away, by saying they were toxic. Church meetings can be hard; we forget to say, “Can I help your mom buy ingredients from a CSA?” and instead blurt out, “Those cookies are toxic.” I don’t think we alway mean to hurt folks in little moments but I suspect we do quite often. Paul writes about love because even though it is hard, we can do better. He writes about love because small moments loom large.
Paul writes to Corinth because he needs to remind them of who they are and how the everyday details matter. Love is not a vague poem; it is a daily practice. For instance, some folks are eating all of the communion meal before other folks arrive. Christ’s table is not a Roman banquet, where the most powerful get the best seat and the best food first. Christ’s table welcomes everyone. The details matter because faith isn’t theory, it’s practice. Christ’s community is not the place for complaining behind someone’s back, disregarding one another’s needs, or withholding your gifts that would fuel the whole community. Paul will later write that all the old boundaries are gone in the Christian community; everyone is sacred, male and female, slave or free, Jew or Greek. These are not vague pieces of poetry; they are about the everyday details of Christian spirituality and hospitality. The everyday details about how we listen to each other, how we show up for each other, how we are honest about our needs, how we name our concerns, how we gather and give matter. Details express love.
I have loved details and I have struggled with them. When we opened the Abbey, I became overwhelmed by the task of managing the everyday details of my work at FUMC and the special details of opening a coffee shop/bookstore/church. To be fair, it wasn’t always the details but the execution. I froze in the face of the work. I had never spent $6,000+ on chairs. What if no one liked them? We wouldn’t get a do-over; it was more money than I had ever spent on anything, except a car. But it wasn’t a matter of having the money - it was the pressure of getting it right and the worry of getting it wrong. Into this struggle marched Barb Bredthauer. She is a leader at FUMC Omaha and she knows details. She has managed our leases and our laundry; and she does it all with grace. She became the project manager and helped me negotiate, prioritize and move forward. She loved the details and reminded me that we couldn’t welcome anyone if I didn’t order the chairs; freezing in fear was not an option. Thanks to Barb, we didn’t just stay in the planning phase, we moved into practice.
We had help from other coffee shop churches; one in DC and one in Seattle. The DC church coffee shop gave us all their details, their menus, their legal paperwork and their job descriptions. They shared all their details and it helped! It probably helped that a lay person named Chris was reaching out to them because based on their websites they would not have been a fan of helping a clergy woman start an inclusive church. But they never asked for that detail, and we didn’t volunteer it. We followed their models…on a smaller scale.
When we opened in 2011, I didn’t serve behind the coffee bar or wear an apron, at least not one that ever got dirty. There were church details and there were coffee details, and we didn’t really blend them - just like the guys we had learned from. Barrett Scroggs, our first staff person, and I handled the church details. The details of worship, like balancing the songs of worship so folks could find tradition blended with modern, secular with sacred, all with a theme circling around the scripture. We handled the details of inviting and following up with folks, checking in on questions and pastoral care. We managed the details of giving and thanking people for their generosity. We handled the details of partnerships and events. There were plenty of church details to more than fill our work week, plus we had offices to work in - just like a normal pastor and church staff.
In 2015, we graduated into our own church and added a campus ministry. I was here, in the shop all the time, to see our everyday details. That spring, I could see firsthand where we were doing great at caring for people and were we need a little more love. I learned the point of sale. I learned to steam milk, work our blender, and troubleshoot when the coffee brewer didn’t work because of the water line. I learned from the health inspector and I learned from our staff. I learned to order milk and I plunged the toilet. That spring we also prepared to welcome Chris Jorgensen. She wasn’t a lay leader anymore; she was done with seminary and joining our staff as she journeyed toward ordination. She invented a new term, pastorista. It was perfect, steaming milk and preaching; bussing tables and praying; breaking bread and shelving books; all in one job description. She pushed me and our work further into the heart of our vision. It blurred the boundaries between secular and sacred. It reminded me that the everyday details express our love and our hospitality is born in every interaction. I learned new names, new details about people, and I could see where we could be even more attentive to the details that express our values. I even learned to drink coffee because when people ask you about coffee responding, “Umm I don’t drink coffee, would you like to see our tea menu?” is a suboptimal response. I learned on the fly and on the job, I made mistakes and then made them right. I had learned so much and it was a good thing because one Saturday that May, everyone was out sick. It was just me and the manager, Jim, serving the Farmer’s Market crowds, which I can tell you a is robust morning. We often generate a third to a half of the week’s revenue in a five hour period. These details mattered. They were sacred. Just like monastics wearing their apron or scapular, I started wearing my apron in worship, because pastorista was sacred work. The details of every job at the Abbey changed; now every job description begins with barista as the first expectation.
Details matter and we haven’t always gotten them right - thank God for grace. We have made the wrong drinks, we have lost book orders and we have learned what we could do better. Sometimes the diversity of ways we can meet people is a gift and sometimes it just gives us more ways to disappoint folks. If nothing else, it complicates life when folks give your coffee shop a one star review for being “leftist” or try to return their drink because they can’t support Queer Nebraska Youth Network. You just have to own your complicated identity as an inclusive, coffee shop/bookstore/church and respond, “It is true, we are unapologetically Christian and we include and value everyone. If you can give us feedback on how we can better serve you coffee, we would be glad to learn and grow.” Our work is so different than it was seven years ago and I am ever grateful for all the grace we have received along the way. We have had folks waiting for trains or planes, asking if we had cards (we didn’t but we do now) and games. We have carried coffee to the table, particularly for folk’s juggling their bags. And there have been moments when we, as staff and volunteers and members have missed the chance to take this extra step of care. We have brought out coloring sheets and crayons when a small guest needed a little extra care and there have been moments when we could have, but didn’t. These are the details I want us to get all the time rather than just some times. These details about how we care for people, how our hospitality goes beyond what is reasonable and into the totally divine. These little details are about anticipating the needs of others and claiming their needs as the heart of our work.
Last October, I was at a conference of innovative Methodist pastors and I was chatting with a pastor of a coffee shop church in Dallas. He asked about our roasters and I shared that we had a local roaster who had been with us from the start as well as offering fair trade coffee through Equal Exchange. He responded with a look of disgust and pity. He didn’t think much of Equal Exchange, to put it mildly. But that’s the difference, we are not trying to be the fanciest coffee shop in town; we are trying to be the friendliest. This drives the details of our work. I care about games and if the blinds are up so the light can come in, if the tables are clean, and if someone sings out, “welcome” when a new person enters the room. I care about whether folks are hot or cold, and if the music volume is just right. I care about folks having choices and loving what they choose or us making it again. I care that we thank people, particularly for helping us raise resources for our partners. I care that we are quick and curious about our guests. I care that they feel seen, included, and welcomed to join us again in whatever way they feel most comfortable.
God is in the details of hospitality at the coffee bar, in our events, and at the communion table. You make the details happen: when you help clean a table, when you meet someone new and share your name, when you get out more chairs, and when you share your table. The small moments matter, they make the biggest difference. I have seen Katie Kreifels spring into action to clean up a spill for another family before most of us even knew it happened, it must be her mom-senses. Peter Morris tells the story of an enormously small moment. Every time I gather folks and ask them to share about why they are a part of the Abbey, he names the simplest gesture. He was crying, deeply grieved during worship, and Susan Davies placed her hand on his shoulder, reminding him no matter what he was going through he wasn’t alone. It was powerful. It was born out of attention and it was a moment we could have easily missed. But by the grace God, we did not. Peter offers that same attentive care to folks now, it is how he shows up, ready to anticipate the needs of others. These little moments make all the difference. Loving hospitality resides in the small and the tender; it lives in the details. You make the difference in how you show up, because community is built face to face, moment by moment.
The details of everyday life matter and it is the sacred, embodied in small acts offered with great love that can seem so simple and ordinary, that we often miss them or fail to value them at all. The Devil’s not in the details; God is. And thank God for grace when we forget them. The way that we see each other and notice each other matters. The way we anticipate the needs of others in our individual lives and in our community matters. When Paul says love is patient and kind, he is asking us to be in the moment and to honor the details. To be patient with one another, perhaps in meetings, perhaps in worship, perhaps on Facebook, perhaps at our family tables or even shopping for school clothes with grandchildren. When Paul says love is not envious, boastful, arrogant, or rude; he is talking about the small moments when we put the harsh words out in the world, when we roll our eyes, when we can’t celebrate another person’s work or when we have a meeting after the meeting. But that kind of ugliness is not compatible with beauty God wove into our souls. We are called to build love into every moment, to honor each breath. May we have the courage to care for the details of the people around us and to honor the work of the world with divine care.
May we have the courage.
Amen
Reflection Questions
When has someone taken care of details for you? When have you experienced love in the details?
What details do you love to care for? What details do you struggle to care for?
What does it mean to you to care for the details of our community? Where do you see your gifts in being in tune with others and anticipating the needs of others?
Wednesday, March 27, 2019
Wednesday, March 20, 2019
Jesus 💜's Boundaries
A Sermon by Reverend Debra McKnight
Preached at Urban Abbey on March 17, 2019
Scripture
Matthew 5:37
Let your word be “Yes, Yes” or “No, No”; anything more than this comes from the evil one.
A true welcome is born of intention and it has boundaries about how we treat one another in community. When boundaries are violated, we feel it. Perhaps you have felt it, when your giving becomes less cheerful, when your time is sucked up without care or intention. I feel it in my gut, maybe you feel with muscle tension in your shoulders. I am learning how we need to structure our space and our boundaries, proactively rather than reactively. We often struggle with boundaries but it is not cruel or unkind, it is about intention. So in this season of Lent, I invite you to join me in thinking about your boundaries, how do you plan your time and your day with intention. How do you let your yes be yes and your no be no. How do you say yes out of love rather than fear? Boundaries do not have to be closing us off from the world, they can open us up but the difference is we are present and ready to love. Boundaries help us enter with our whole heart, they say if we are going to do it then let’s really do it, on purpose, like Jesus would.
Reflection Questions:
What boundaries do you struggle with?
Have you said yes out of fear rather than love?
Preached at Urban Abbey on March 17, 2019
Scripture
Matthew 5:37
Let your word be “Yes, Yes” or “No, No”; anything more than this comes from the evil one.
Sermon
We don’t think about Jesus having boundaries, probably for the same reason we don’t think he is political. We think about his nature as for-others and we confuse this with being used by others. Justo L. Gonzalez gifts us this this language of for-otherness. It is a theology in which we are rooted at the Abbey and it claims us as created in the image of a relational God and celebrates our being as most human and most divine when we are most for others. This simple and challenging, everyday language is beautiful but it requires a robust understanding of boundaries and boundaries are hard.
They are particularly hard when you grow up in a female body and everything around you says, “Hey don’t be rude, your boundaries are not important; good girls say yes.” Say yes to hugs from strangers. Say yes to helping others, even if it’s at expense of your wellbeing. In fact, I remember being taught to say,”no” on only two occasions. The first was by Nancy Reagan and her Just Say No to Drugs campaign, which I think research has proven didn’t work out so well. The second was about sex, “Just say no.” The fundamentalists said just say no or burn in hellfire; while the school said, Just say no, here is a picture of gonorrhea and a video of a woman giving birth. Just say no, was a clear theme, but not really helpful in terms of boundaries, even when it comes to drugs and sex. Not only are we lacking training around boundaries for a healthy everyday life, many of us are from the Midwest where we are allergic to saying, “no.” It’s not really Nebraska nice. “No” can seem so harsh and unkind, even if we say, ‘No, thank you.’ The most aggressive we get is often passive aggressive, so defining boundaries is challenging, especially when you just wish everyone had some common sense about them and would be kind enough to not make you think or talk or establish them.
Not only are boundaries hard but it feels wrong to be a church and say, “No or even no, thank you.” Particularly, as an inclusive and welcoming new church start. Churches have a history of saying no and hurting people, saying you can't sing in our choir, you are not welcome here in that outfit, you can’t be divorced and take communion, we won’t marry you or you can’t be gay here unless you are celibate. And sometimes churches don’t really say no out loud but you can feel it, particularly when everyone already has their friends, all the small groups are full, and the choir really does not want anyone to change a note or add a new voice. Churches have a way of saying no, particularly to new people, “no, we tried that idea or no this is how we do things.” I have witnessed church meetings where people have debated putting a locked fence around a community garden, like Americans are eating too many vegetables and stealing a tomato might be a huge problem.
When we started the Abbey, I wanted to be about saying Yes! Yes, you are welcome! Yes, we are more than a church! Yes, come all week long for coffee! Yes, relax and look at books. Yes, we are all these different efforts in one and yes, we love the messiness of it. But we struggled with saying, yes. In our first weeks, a man came and got coffee as a part of a Friday group and he asked for cream and our manager said, “No we don’t have cream, we have half and half.” He came the next week and asked again. They said, “no” again. And the third week, he brought his own cream and the manager said, “No, you can’t bring that in here.” They proceeded to argue over cream and when the manager called me to tell me how this man had been so rude. I agreed that we needed to meet because this is not who we are going to be. I said, “We can say, “yes” to cream. We want to be his Cheers, we want to know what he needs without guessing; buy the cream. Say yes to our guest”
I have taught and re-taught saying, “YES” and we had a hard time: saying yes to giving folks change for the meter; saying yes to people who wanted to return something, especially when they have a receipt; saying yes to salon clients wanting to take a ceramic cup next door; saying yes when a guest wants to add peanut butter to his strawberry smoothie; saying yes to events that meant we shift our staff by 30 minutes; and hundreds of other things. We had such a hard time saying yes, even when it seemed so easy and so obvious.
We don’t think about Jesus having boundaries, probably for the same reason we don’t think he is political. We think about his nature as for-others and we confuse this with being used by others. Justo L. Gonzalez gifts us this this language of for-otherness. It is a theology in which we are rooted at the Abbey and it claims us as created in the image of a relational God and celebrates our being as most human and most divine when we are most for others. This simple and challenging, everyday language is beautiful but it requires a robust understanding of boundaries and boundaries are hard.
They are particularly hard when you grow up in a female body and everything around you says, “Hey don’t be rude, your boundaries are not important; good girls say yes.” Say yes to hugs from strangers. Say yes to helping others, even if it’s at expense of your wellbeing. In fact, I remember being taught to say,”no” on only two occasions. The first was by Nancy Reagan and her Just Say No to Drugs campaign, which I think research has proven didn’t work out so well. The second was about sex, “Just say no.” The fundamentalists said just say no or burn in hellfire; while the school said, Just say no, here is a picture of gonorrhea and a video of a woman giving birth. Just say no, was a clear theme, but not really helpful in terms of boundaries, even when it comes to drugs and sex. Not only are we lacking training around boundaries for a healthy everyday life, many of us are from the Midwest where we are allergic to saying, “no.” It’s not really Nebraska nice. “No” can seem so harsh and unkind, even if we say, ‘No, thank you.’ The most aggressive we get is often passive aggressive, so defining boundaries is challenging, especially when you just wish everyone had some common sense about them and would be kind enough to not make you think or talk or establish them.
Not only are boundaries hard but it feels wrong to be a church and say, “No or even no, thank you.” Particularly, as an inclusive and welcoming new church start. Churches have a history of saying no and hurting people, saying you can't sing in our choir, you are not welcome here in that outfit, you can’t be divorced and take communion, we won’t marry you or you can’t be gay here unless you are celibate. And sometimes churches don’t really say no out loud but you can feel it, particularly when everyone already has their friends, all the small groups are full, and the choir really does not want anyone to change a note or add a new voice. Churches have a way of saying no, particularly to new people, “no, we tried that idea or no this is how we do things.” I have witnessed church meetings where people have debated putting a locked fence around a community garden, like Americans are eating too many vegetables and stealing a tomato might be a huge problem.
When we started the Abbey, I wanted to be about saying Yes! Yes, you are welcome! Yes, we are more than a church! Yes, come all week long for coffee! Yes, relax and look at books. Yes, we are all these different efforts in one and yes, we love the messiness of it. But we struggled with saying, yes. In our first weeks, a man came and got coffee as a part of a Friday group and he asked for cream and our manager said, “No we don’t have cream, we have half and half.” He came the next week and asked again. They said, “no” again. And the third week, he brought his own cream and the manager said, “No, you can’t bring that in here.” They proceeded to argue over cream and when the manager called me to tell me how this man had been so rude. I agreed that we needed to meet because this is not who we are going to be. I said, “We can say, “yes” to cream. We want to be his Cheers, we want to know what he needs without guessing; buy the cream. Say yes to our guest”
I have taught and re-taught saying, “YES” and we had a hard time: saying yes to giving folks change for the meter; saying yes to people who wanted to return something, especially when they have a receipt; saying yes to salon clients wanting to take a ceramic cup next door; saying yes when a guest wants to add peanut butter to his strawberry smoothie; saying yes to events that meant we shift our staff by 30 minutes; and hundreds of other things. We had such a hard time saying yes, even when it seemed so easy and so obvious.
I wanted us to say, ‘yes’ so much I have held staff meetings about how to say, ‘yes.’ I have literally said, “If you are about to say no, stop and think about how to work out a yes and if you can’t get there talk to me.” I created the inverse Nancy Reagan, with Just Say YES, for the love of God just say yes!
Of course saying, “yes” lead to some of our biggest problems. One of our managers said yes, and made a latte while I offered our opening prayer. A barista said yes to making three smoothies while Sister Kathleen shared about the horrors and costs of Texas for-profit immigration detention centers (P.S. this was during Obama’s presidency and blender noise and for-profit detention centers are still a problem). We tried to stay open as a coffee shop even when we hosted our partner events and it didn’t work for anyone. Coffee people felt awkward for interrupting and event people were distracted. We were not holding sacred space because we couldn’t honor boundaries that were needed in that hour.
Once we said yes to a partner for an event that I knew in my gut would be a problem. They wanted to host an event at 9:00am. I thought to myself, this may be tricky, that is when we have folks working and studying, but I thought I’m sure I’m wrong; we can make it work it will probably only be 20 people anyway. I was wrong, 109 people came to hear about human trafficking. It was a great event, but all the people who were working or studying left, likely a little traumatized by stories they were not prepared to hear and they never came back. What made us a good church, made us a bad coffeeshop. We had to create boundaries around how and when we use our space because being everything made us nothing, we failed in every aspect of our pluralistic identity.
We have struggled with boundaries around welcoming people, it turns out not everyone is ready to be in community all the time. We have a delightful neighbor who is sometimes intoxicated. I have had to talk to him about not coming in until he is sober, because no woman working in a coffee shop is waiting to be picked up. As I was saying, “there can be no hugs without consent” he put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer. Literally, as I was talking about not hugging random people, he started to hug me. It turns out inclusion is harder in practice than in theory, particularly when folks are in crisis or struggling with mental and physical health. Perhaps you have noticed, but we are not a health center. We have struggled to find balance in this space and saying, ‘yes’ all the time just doesn’t work anymore than saying, ‘no’ all the time does. Rather than “Just Say Yes!” what I really wanted was problem-solving and solution-seeking focused around how we care for others.
We don’t think about Jesus having boundaries, probably for the same reason we don’t think he is political. We tend to domesticate him and his message in a way that is palatable for the powerful. We transform this change maker into a maintainer of the status quo because a community of quiet, boundary-less folks are much easier to use than a group of robust, committed folks with serious intentions and a profound sense of their own worth.
Jesus, when we really look deeply, seems to have extraordinarily clear boundaries. He doesn’t even respond to mom-guilt (Matthew 12:46-50). He eats with friends, he weeps with friends, he rests often in his favorite town of Bethany, he receives intimacy reclining on the chest of the beloved disciple (John 13:23), and he even takes a nap on a boat during a storm (Luke 8:23). When folks seek healing, he offers it on his terms, on his timing. He leaves people in line when he is done and to the man waiting for 38 years to be dipped in the pool he asks the questions, “Do you want to be well” (John 5:1-14)? This moment isn’t about him, it isn’t about how many people he can heal. The disciples are never hanging around after the crowds dwindle and decide to head home after shooting the breeze. When it’s time to leave work, he leaves his work; when it’s time to eat, he eats; when it’s time to pray, he prays; when it’s time to teach, he teaches; and when it is time to move on, he puts one foot in front of the other. He is intentional about every aspect of life. He is intentional about who is a disciple and who is a part of the crowd. He knows who he is, objecting when crowds and even his own disciples attempt to make him over in the image of the world by wanting to make him king or lead a revolution. He teaches his disciples to do what he is doing, feeding people, healing people, changing people’s lives in order to change the world. This act of empowering others is an ultimate way of saying this is not about me, it’s about us. It’s a way of saying the kingdom of heaven is different from any kingdom you see on earth. He sends the disciples and the 72 out with their own boundaries, with companions for the journey and no solo heroes. He asks them to be vulnerable in their travels and, in a last note, he reminds them of their boundaries, telling them to shake the dust from their sandals when they are not received (Matthew 10:14 and Luke 10:11). He sends them out in for-otherness, not to be used by others.
Brené Brown, in her study of resilience, names that people who live wholeheartedly have the clearest boundaries. They can be vulnerable because they do it with intention. I think Jesus invites us into this even if the church has not. This scripture in the Gospel of Matthew is one of the great sermons, it starts with the beatitudes; blessed are the poor, blessed are the peacemakers, blessed are the meek…all the people who are not usually blessed. And in this later section Jesus says, “You have heard it said…but I say to you…” You have heard it said, thou shall not murder, and then Jesus takes the everyday theology even deeper, naming a call to attentiveness to anger and bitterness that precipitate an act of violence. You have heard it said thou shall not commit adultery then Jesus takes it deeper to lust, don’t look at one another as an objects. Just not committing the big sins is not enough, faith is hard work and deep intention. He lays out a deeper commitment to the kingdom of God and he urges folks not to take vows or oaths they can not honor but to mean no and mean yes when they say it.
Meaning it when you say it can be hard. It can be hard to say no, even when we need to for our own wellbeing and the wellbeing of others. But I would take a “no” over a half hearted “yes” any day. A half hearted yes makes us grumpy and disappointed, it leaves us feeling used and we are no longer cheerful givers but quiet sulkers. Jesus chose clear boundaries because it allowed his work to flourish and engage. He never says yes because he’s nervous about saying no. He choose boundaries and invites us to do the same.
There is a difference between being for others and being used by others and we can usually feel that. It is easier to learn boundaries by noticing when they have been transgressed. Like my first year in ministry, when a music student died at UNO and I was asked to facilitate a prayer vigil. There I was in my borrowed collar shirt, with a plastic cookbook back cut out to make a makeshift collar because the real thing had been lost, trying to manage a deeply sad space while a graduate student I had met a few times stood by me. While I was praying publicly and inviting people to sing together, his hand moved from around my shoulder to cupping my behind. I was shocked. I moved a little, he moved a little. He was intoxicated and it took a while for what was happening to register, but I couldn’t figure out a way to say no in the moment. I had never practiced in worship lab and clergy boundaries training programs rarely address moments like this.
I usually learn boundaries when they have been violated. I have struggled in this space and as community we have struggled. We have said yes and we have said no at the wrong times. We have said “yes” out of fear or ease. We have said, “no” out of selfishness or anxiety. Both were wrong. Yes and no are essential and hard. I find this to be a constant edge of our work and a space that requires nuance from our staff, board and team leaders. We have given away food and coffee to the point where it became dangerous to our staff and difficult for our partners. One day it seemed that suddenly we had started a day center and while we could handle one or two homeless folks, we were not equipped for 15 homeless folks all day long. Salon staff found folks naked in the bathroom and one of our baristas almost told some rough looking hipsters that they could have free coffee but not a free cappuccino, fortunately they stopped just short of that. The real gift in our work is that we never do anything alone and we have great partners. Our partner agencies Sienna Francis House, VNA and MACCH named that we had stopped helping folks with the food and coffee we were giving away and started enabling chronic homelessness. We were trying to help and we had become part of the problem. We had to change course and we had to do it quick. We had to acknowledge our limits, maybe in phase 21 we will have a day center for our homeless neighbors, staffed with social workers but for now we have baristas. Our boundaries help us welcome people into a space that is safe.
Of course saying, “yes” lead to some of our biggest problems. One of our managers said yes, and made a latte while I offered our opening prayer. A barista said yes to making three smoothies while Sister Kathleen shared about the horrors and costs of Texas for-profit immigration detention centers (P.S. this was during Obama’s presidency and blender noise and for-profit detention centers are still a problem). We tried to stay open as a coffee shop even when we hosted our partner events and it didn’t work for anyone. Coffee people felt awkward for interrupting and event people were distracted. We were not holding sacred space because we couldn’t honor boundaries that were needed in that hour.
Once we said yes to a partner for an event that I knew in my gut would be a problem. They wanted to host an event at 9:00am. I thought to myself, this may be tricky, that is when we have folks working and studying, but I thought I’m sure I’m wrong; we can make it work it will probably only be 20 people anyway. I was wrong, 109 people came to hear about human trafficking. It was a great event, but all the people who were working or studying left, likely a little traumatized by stories they were not prepared to hear and they never came back. What made us a good church, made us a bad coffeeshop. We had to create boundaries around how and when we use our space because being everything made us nothing, we failed in every aspect of our pluralistic identity.
We have struggled with boundaries around welcoming people, it turns out not everyone is ready to be in community all the time. We have a delightful neighbor who is sometimes intoxicated. I have had to talk to him about not coming in until he is sober, because no woman working in a coffee shop is waiting to be picked up. As I was saying, “there can be no hugs without consent” he put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer. Literally, as I was talking about not hugging random people, he started to hug me. It turns out inclusion is harder in practice than in theory, particularly when folks are in crisis or struggling with mental and physical health. Perhaps you have noticed, but we are not a health center. We have struggled to find balance in this space and saying, ‘yes’ all the time just doesn’t work anymore than saying, ‘no’ all the time does. Rather than “Just Say Yes!” what I really wanted was problem-solving and solution-seeking focused around how we care for others.
We don’t think about Jesus having boundaries, probably for the same reason we don’t think he is political. We tend to domesticate him and his message in a way that is palatable for the powerful. We transform this change maker into a maintainer of the status quo because a community of quiet, boundary-less folks are much easier to use than a group of robust, committed folks with serious intentions and a profound sense of their own worth.
Jesus, when we really look deeply, seems to have extraordinarily clear boundaries. He doesn’t even respond to mom-guilt (Matthew 12:46-50). He eats with friends, he weeps with friends, he rests often in his favorite town of Bethany, he receives intimacy reclining on the chest of the beloved disciple (John 13:23), and he even takes a nap on a boat during a storm (Luke 8:23). When folks seek healing, he offers it on his terms, on his timing. He leaves people in line when he is done and to the man waiting for 38 years to be dipped in the pool he asks the questions, “Do you want to be well” (John 5:1-14)? This moment isn’t about him, it isn’t about how many people he can heal. The disciples are never hanging around after the crowds dwindle and decide to head home after shooting the breeze. When it’s time to leave work, he leaves his work; when it’s time to eat, he eats; when it’s time to pray, he prays; when it’s time to teach, he teaches; and when it is time to move on, he puts one foot in front of the other. He is intentional about every aspect of life. He is intentional about who is a disciple and who is a part of the crowd. He knows who he is, objecting when crowds and even his own disciples attempt to make him over in the image of the world by wanting to make him king or lead a revolution. He teaches his disciples to do what he is doing, feeding people, healing people, changing people’s lives in order to change the world. This act of empowering others is an ultimate way of saying this is not about me, it’s about us. It’s a way of saying the kingdom of heaven is different from any kingdom you see on earth. He sends the disciples and the 72 out with their own boundaries, with companions for the journey and no solo heroes. He asks them to be vulnerable in their travels and, in a last note, he reminds them of their boundaries, telling them to shake the dust from their sandals when they are not received (Matthew 10:14 and Luke 10:11). He sends them out in for-otherness, not to be used by others.
Brené Brown, in her study of resilience, names that people who live wholeheartedly have the clearest boundaries. They can be vulnerable because they do it with intention. I think Jesus invites us into this even if the church has not. This scripture in the Gospel of Matthew is one of the great sermons, it starts with the beatitudes; blessed are the poor, blessed are the peacemakers, blessed are the meek…all the people who are not usually blessed. And in this later section Jesus says, “You have heard it said…but I say to you…” You have heard it said, thou shall not murder, and then Jesus takes the everyday theology even deeper, naming a call to attentiveness to anger and bitterness that precipitate an act of violence. You have heard it said thou shall not commit adultery then Jesus takes it deeper to lust, don’t look at one another as an objects. Just not committing the big sins is not enough, faith is hard work and deep intention. He lays out a deeper commitment to the kingdom of God and he urges folks not to take vows or oaths they can not honor but to mean no and mean yes when they say it.
Meaning it when you say it can be hard. It can be hard to say no, even when we need to for our own wellbeing and the wellbeing of others. But I would take a “no” over a half hearted “yes” any day. A half hearted yes makes us grumpy and disappointed, it leaves us feeling used and we are no longer cheerful givers but quiet sulkers. Jesus chose clear boundaries because it allowed his work to flourish and engage. He never says yes because he’s nervous about saying no. He choose boundaries and invites us to do the same.
There is a difference between being for others and being used by others and we can usually feel that. It is easier to learn boundaries by noticing when they have been transgressed. Like my first year in ministry, when a music student died at UNO and I was asked to facilitate a prayer vigil. There I was in my borrowed collar shirt, with a plastic cookbook back cut out to make a makeshift collar because the real thing had been lost, trying to manage a deeply sad space while a graduate student I had met a few times stood by me. While I was praying publicly and inviting people to sing together, his hand moved from around my shoulder to cupping my behind. I was shocked. I moved a little, he moved a little. He was intoxicated and it took a while for what was happening to register, but I couldn’t figure out a way to say no in the moment. I had never practiced in worship lab and clergy boundaries training programs rarely address moments like this.
I usually learn boundaries when they have been violated. I have struggled in this space and as community we have struggled. We have said yes and we have said no at the wrong times. We have said “yes” out of fear or ease. We have said, “no” out of selfishness or anxiety. Both were wrong. Yes and no are essential and hard. I find this to be a constant edge of our work and a space that requires nuance from our staff, board and team leaders. We have given away food and coffee to the point where it became dangerous to our staff and difficult for our partners. One day it seemed that suddenly we had started a day center and while we could handle one or two homeless folks, we were not equipped for 15 homeless folks all day long. Salon staff found folks naked in the bathroom and one of our baristas almost told some rough looking hipsters that they could have free coffee but not a free cappuccino, fortunately they stopped just short of that. The real gift in our work is that we never do anything alone and we have great partners. Our partner agencies Sienna Francis House, VNA and MACCH named that we had stopped helping folks with the food and coffee we were giving away and started enabling chronic homelessness. We were trying to help and we had become part of the problem. We had to change course and we had to do it quick. We had to acknowledge our limits, maybe in phase 21 we will have a day center for our homeless neighbors, staffed with social workers but for now we have baristas. Our boundaries help us welcome people into a space that is safe.
I have been late to a clergy meeting and said, “Sorry I was late, I was banning and barring someone from our inclusive church.” They laughed and then were shocked when I shared why. I never thought I would have to call the police for help so much and neither did they. Most churches don’t. I have asked staff to call the police during communion. I have called 911 for intoxicated folks. I never imagined doing that when I started this place and I didn’t learn about it in Seminary. I do not love this part of this work but I do love what have learned from it. We want to be a part of healing but we are not equipped for every aspect of this work, at least not yet. And I work on boundaries because I understand what I couldn’t before which is that we can not welcome people into a space and into a community if we have zero boundaries, we would have nothing to welcome them too. We are constantly navigating our boundaries, learning and growing. When we care about work we set intentions and boundaries, not everyone is on the pastoral care team or a small group leader, not everyone teaches Sunday school or handles our finances, there are trainings and expectations and boundaries. We do this to be healthy and to offer our communal space and collective gifts in a way that is life giving. We do this to be for others rather than used by others, we do this to offer our best to others.
A true welcome is born of intention and it has boundaries about how we treat one another in community. When boundaries are violated, we feel it. Perhaps you have felt it, when your giving becomes less cheerful, when your time is sucked up without care or intention. I feel it in my gut, maybe you feel with muscle tension in your shoulders. I am learning how we need to structure our space and our boundaries, proactively rather than reactively. We often struggle with boundaries but it is not cruel or unkind, it is about intention. So in this season of Lent, I invite you to join me in thinking about your boundaries, how do you plan your time and your day with intention. How do you let your yes be yes and your no be no. How do you say yes out of love rather than fear? Boundaries do not have to be closing us off from the world, they can open us up but the difference is we are present and ready to love. Boundaries help us enter with our whole heart, they say if we are going to do it then let’s really do it, on purpose, like Jesus would.
Reflection Questions:
What boundaries do you struggle with?
Have you said yes out of fear rather than love?
Have you said no when you wish you had said yes?
What do you seek for your day and your week that allow you to be present?
What do you seek for your day and your week that allow you to be present?
Who can help you navigate setting and keeping and even changing boundaries?
Wednesday, March 13, 2019
For-Otherness
A sermon preached by Rev. Debra McKnight
March 10, 2019
Gen 1: 26-27
Then God said, ‘Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the wild animals of the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth.’ So God created humankind in God's image, in the image of God, God created them.
Sermon
“How will you be present for others?” Every Sunday I close our time at the communion table asking folks to pause and to celebrate that in communion we take in nourishment and our open table means that we take this nourishment in to offer it to others. This question is born out of the work of Justo L. Gonźalez wrote a volume called Mañana: Christian Theology from a Hispanic Perspective. In this text he unpacks the nature of humanity, Jesus, and God with this cornerstone notion and phrase called for-otherness. I love this phrase, it is simple and powerful. It is accessible and challenging. It shapes the work of Urban Abbey, or at least I hope it does. Gonźalez invites us into for-otherness through the creation stories.
The first creation story, out of the priestly tradition, invites us to hear God speak creation into existence and call it good. We are born good, and we are made in the image of God. God’s own being is relational. God, in our trinitarian understanding, shares substance rather than dominating, somehow God is three in one. When God makes humankind, God creates in God’s image plural and God names dominion as a feature of humanity, just as a feature of the divine. Of course, humans often take dominion to mean, “Oh good, that belongs to me. I get to use that animal or that land.” But this is a misinterpretation of the word dominion. God’s presence is not that of tyrant but of “self-giving governance.” We are to have dominion like our creator, that means we are to be caretakers, co-creating and giving life. In fact, the second creation narrative says we are literally made of earth, we are dust. We are not over it, we are a part of it, we are spirit filled dirt.
In the second creation story, God makes Ish, which the story names a man but unlike the first story, God does not say it’s good, rather “It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper fit for him” (Gen. 2:18). This story where God gets in the dirt is a little more lively. God makes all kinds of creatures, shows them to Ish but the man names them. The creatures are not really partner material, even the dog is not up for the work of partnership that God is seeking for the man. Man is not complete by himself. Ish is not good alone.
Then the second creation story continues with God on a quest to make a helper. Of course, this translation is full of sexist connotations for our modern use. King James paid for a translation that said “help meet” where it could mean fitting help. We automatically think helper means assistant and imagine Mad Men. Like man needs an old school assistant that he can use, not respect, and not really compensate; or a model wife who does all the work of the house, whistling while she works and looking as pleasant as Cinderella. Out of this we read into to the story that this first man, Ish, is in charge and not in partnership. But Gonzalez reminds us “help” does not have the connotations of meek, docile, and self-effacing. On the contrary, it is the word most often applied to God as the help of Israel” (Gonźalez, p 132). Help is powerful. This Helpmeet is further problematic in that meet should be fit, a fitting help. Fitting means “as in front of him” something like a counterpart, a mirror image, not a subordinate being. This is where the man sees the woman and says, she is fit for him or as in front of him and he declares “Bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh and she shall be called Woman because she was taken out of Man” (Gen 2:23).
The Man is Ish and the woman is Ishshah. She is called, not named, by the man. This is where God declares things good, they are partners, they are not alone, “To be fully human is to be for others, and therefore God’s creature is not complete until there is another to be for” (Gonźalez, p133). Of course, we take this ancient story and fill it with our modern context and so we think, “Oh, this is about marriage”, but there are no ceremonies or wedding bells. Plus, if this is where we get the idea of a Biblical model of marriage, we are one of the first to interpret it this way. Most of the Bible teaches not about one man and one woman, but usually one man and as many women as he can be in charge of. King Solomon has 1,000 wives and concubines. This is a story about the seed of our humanity. We are are created for others, we are created for partnership, and in partnership. It is a passage for partnership, not for exclusion. Both creation stories are different, but they ring with the narrative of for-otherness. They sing out community, grace, and connection. A relational God creates humans to be in relationship. God this creative, life-giving force creates us to be and do the same.
Everything is going great for, like, a verse and then the fall happens. The woman is so relationship oriented that she picks the wisdom fruit (which some imagine as an apple and others as a banana; I think wisdom fruit must look amazing). She picks the fruit and shares it with the man. She could have kept wisdom for herself but instead she shares it. Everything falls apart and people forget their for-otherness. Cain kills Abel. Man dominates woman when Adam names Eve. He names her now just like he named the cattle and birds before the fall. This is where we can see the impact of sin. Gonźalez sees two sins, Adam beginning a sinful pattern of domination, while Eve hides in a sinful pattern of false humility, acquiescing to oppressors. Gonźalez speaks to this sin of false humility, as do others, as not naming a full humanity and risking the struggle of demanding a place at the table of partnership. Both of these sins show a loss of partnership, the loss of for-otherness in favor of domination and subordination. This is where the story points to our brokenness. This is where the theories of the world name and see our brokenness and we develop a sensibility that says humanity is not like divinity at all, we are fallen, we are sinful; the opposite of God’s divinity and loving presence. This sensibility is fueled further by the Greek philosophy the early church encounters and begins to take on as a framework for understanding these ancient narrative.
Karl Barth said, “We may believe that God can and may be absolute in contrast to all that is relative, exalted in contrast to all that is lowly, active in contrast to all suffering… divine in contrast to everything human, in short that He can and must be other the “Wholly Other.” But such beliefs are shown to be quite untenable, and corrupt and pagan, by the fact that God does in fact be and do this in Jesus Christ.”
Jesus is for others, The angels announce it in the Gospel of Luke, “For unto you is born this day in the city of David.” Jesus is for others in a way that is strong and assertive. For-otherness, means praying and acting; he heals the sick, feeds the hungry, and challenges the religious and political leaders of his day. He speaks blessings to the poor and his for-otherness is what gets him in trouble with the establishment and on the cross he is literally praying for others. His crucifixion is not just because he is just so nice and sweet and spiritual, it is because he is upsetting the systems of domination and he is not doing it for himself, he is doing this out of love, out of for-otherness. He is doing everything differently. Jesus’s humanity and divinity will be debated for hundreds of years and then again for the next two thousand. And the mistake we theologically curious humans make again and again, generation after generation, (and probably because it benefits the people with the most power) is we treat divinity and humanity as opposites. Like it is a spectrum and they are opposite ends of the pole. “Being more human does not make Jesus less divine. And being more divine does not make him less human. Actually it is precisely in his being for others that Jesus manifests his full divinity, and it is also in his being for other that he magnifies his full humanity. God is being for other. This is what is meant by the central biblical affirmation that God is love. To love is to be for otherness” (G p152).
Our faith calls us to be for others. And this is hard work. It puts us in hard spots sometimes. I invite you to think about your work. I have listened to people who make hard choices to advocate for the lowest paid wage earners in their company, making sure clerical staff or custodial staff receive benefits. I have listened to people struggle with hard ethical choices and choose for-otherness even as it risks their position or makes the journey more challenging. For-other-ness is a whole life quest, it is not just a program or a service project that we do together for a few hours. Perhaps you have a nudge or a calling that can not be dismissed. Church is a time when we explore and listen and refresh so we can go out and answer those calls on our lives.
This theology has guided my call into ministry. The question of our work is how do we embody this theology, where does this vast narrative find life in our every day, where does for-otherness fit into the nitty gritty details. These details seem small but they make a world of difference expressing who we are. I think we do this particularly in creating space that is more functional for others than for the church. Bishop Jones was probably right that moving to an auditorium would be better for church. This is not always convenient for us. You know this if you have given up your seat when I have asked you to move to the front so latecomers don’t have to walk through the room. You know this if you were one of the people I asked to sit on the floor on Christmas Eve. You know this if you have worked harder to listen when the party bicycle drives by with cheering people during communion or once when an elderly lady demanded that we grind her coffee beans mid-sermon. You know this if you have seen folks come in to use the restroom mid-sermon and leave or stay and want to preach like a guest named, “Space Jesus.” You know this when sometimes you have to listen a little harder, particularly during Launch Team or Grow Night, or if you have to chase a toddler around rather than sending them to a nursery or hanging in a cry room, because we literally don’t have any other room. You know this if you have helped move equipment for worship or events, you know this if you have done dishes because our location can’t handle a dishwasher. You know this if you have come in, needing to talk and found me right here at a table rather than walled-off in an office. Our space is wonderful for community and often a challenge for church and staff efficiency. We welcome people day in and day out to this space, we never really close and we invest in staff to greet people. We invest in a space that can be active all the time rather than a space that can be active - mostly when we need it. I think our space pushes us to make choices about how we use it, for others, how we host community gatherings and close our coffee bar. How we make room for people to work and study and relax and talk with friends. We keep our focus on others and our investment in serving others.
This space, I hope, is born out of the quest of how we can be for-others and that’s not because we are in a coffee shop, any church space can be for-others. Any church can be for-others. We could do this in a church. It’s just that so often, churches forget to be for-others. It becomes easy to forget the purpose and the call. It becomes easy to say this space belongs to us first, it becomes easy to think about what is convenient for us, what helps us. Churches in our city are sitting on great real estate that is used well and vibrantly a few hours a week. I pray that no matter our staffing, no matter our space we keep the needs of others before our eyes. We ask the question, “How is this for others?” We may not always be in this space, I dream that no matter our space, our location our size that we are there for others. That we structure with intention around making the space for the needs of others, a hub of community, a launch pad for change.
Reflection Questions
What does for-other-ness mean to you?
Where do you practice it? How do you struggle to practice it?
What does it mean for our practice as a community? What does it mean for what we put first?
Reactions of a Straight White Guy to the UMC Special General Conference of 2019
A Note by Dr. Kevin Graham
Written on March 13, 2019
My name is Kevin Graham, and I have been a supporter of the Urban Abbey in one way or another since its earliest days. Although I am a member of another congregation, Omaha First UMC, I contribute financially to Urban Abbey and I attend the 5:30 pm worship service when I can.
The 2019 Special General Conference of the United Methodist Church recently adopted the Traditionalist Plan to reshape the UMC Book of Discipline by reaffirming the exclusionary stance of the global church toward the full participation of LGBTQ+ persons in the ministries of the church and by increasing the penalties that clergy and bishops face for trying to include everyone. Since the end of the Special General Conference, I have been trying to process a stew of emotions I feel about this action of the denomination that I joined in 1997.
Part of me is angry. I am angry because when I became a United Methodist in 1997, I promised to accept the freedom and power that God gives me to resist evil, injustice, and oppression. I see the effort of the global church to maintain and reinforce the exclusion of people from full participation in the ministries of the church based on who they are and whom they love as evil, unjust, and oppressive, and therefore as contradictory to our membership vows as United Methodists.
Part of me is amused. I am amused because in 1997-1998, First UMC went through the sort of identity crisis that grips the global church now. When our lead pastor performed a holy union ceremony for a same-sex couple, the Nebraska Annual Conference of the UMC charged him with violating the UMC Book of Discipline and suspended him from active ministry. When his suspension ended, the conference extended his suspension without justification. After a church trial acquitted him of violating the UMC Book of Discipline, our congregation split, with over half our members departing. Months later, the conference reassigned our pastor to another congregation elsewhere in the state, despite his acquittal.
Soon thereafter, a national campaign to write prohibitions on same-sex marriage into state constitutions chose Nebraska as a test case. Deep-pocketed conservative donors from around the country used the negative reaction to the same-sex union ceremony at First UMC to build a successful campaign to write Initiative 416 into the Nebraska State Constitution.
Through all of this, the remaining members of First UMC felt isolated within our congregation, our conference, our denomination, and our nation. During our lead pastor’s suspension, the pro-inclusion group within the membership of our church could not include the pastoral leadership of the congregation in meetings about how to live out our mission as a welcoming and inclusive congregation under the circumstances. Our worship services were picketed regularly by anti-gay hate groups. We felt precious little support from across the denomination and the country.
So, I am amused when the pro-exclusion forces in the global church try to intimidate me into abandoning the United Methodist Church by simply reaffirming the existing exclusive language in the UMC Book of Discipline, making the language more precise, and stiffening the penalties for violating it. The part of me that is amused thinks, “Is that all you’ve got? Sharpened language and stiffened penalties? We still have our clergy. Our congregation is unified in support of a mission of inclusive and loving ministry to the world. Congregations all over the Great Plains UMC Annual Conference and all over the United States are exploring joining us in the UMC Reconciling Ministries Network. We are unified, we are powerful, and we are not alone. I thought you were going to do something to us. I thought you were going to hurt us. Is that really all you’ve got?”
But part of me is also pained. I am pained to see LGBTQ+ friends of mine who feel unable to don a rainbow stole and take their regular places in the choir of my congregation because our denomination says that people who love as they love are unwelcome. I am pained to hear LGBTQ+ candidates for United Methodist ordained ministry reconsidering their candidacy because of the expressed intention of the global church to exclude them from ordained ministry. I recognize that I would probably feel less amusement and more pain if I were gay rather than straight. I am still processing what I think about that.
This stew of emotions is still boiling inside me. I don’t feel the same way about the hurtful actions of our global church this week as I did last week. I don’t expect to feel the same way next week as I do this week. But I know that God is not finished with us yet. It helps me to recall the grounding Scripture that my son Daniel chose to read when he was confirmed as an adult member of First UMC in 2017:
“For surely I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord, “plans for welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.” (Jeremiah 29.11)
I still believe in God’s promise of a future with hope. I believe we will experience it together.
Written on March 13, 2019
My name is Kevin Graham, and I have been a supporter of the Urban Abbey in one way or another since its earliest days. Although I am a member of another congregation, Omaha First UMC, I contribute financially to Urban Abbey and I attend the 5:30 pm worship service when I can.
The 2019 Special General Conference of the United Methodist Church recently adopted the Traditionalist Plan to reshape the UMC Book of Discipline by reaffirming the exclusionary stance of the global church toward the full participation of LGBTQ+ persons in the ministries of the church and by increasing the penalties that clergy and bishops face for trying to include everyone. Since the end of the Special General Conference, I have been trying to process a stew of emotions I feel about this action of the denomination that I joined in 1997.
Part of me is angry. I am angry because when I became a United Methodist in 1997, I promised to accept the freedom and power that God gives me to resist evil, injustice, and oppression. I see the effort of the global church to maintain and reinforce the exclusion of people from full participation in the ministries of the church based on who they are and whom they love as evil, unjust, and oppressive, and therefore as contradictory to our membership vows as United Methodists.
Part of me is amused. I am amused because in 1997-1998, First UMC went through the sort of identity crisis that grips the global church now. When our lead pastor performed a holy union ceremony for a same-sex couple, the Nebraska Annual Conference of the UMC charged him with violating the UMC Book of Discipline and suspended him from active ministry. When his suspension ended, the conference extended his suspension without justification. After a church trial acquitted him of violating the UMC Book of Discipline, our congregation split, with over half our members departing. Months later, the conference reassigned our pastor to another congregation elsewhere in the state, despite his acquittal.
Soon thereafter, a national campaign to write prohibitions on same-sex marriage into state constitutions chose Nebraska as a test case. Deep-pocketed conservative donors from around the country used the negative reaction to the same-sex union ceremony at First UMC to build a successful campaign to write Initiative 416 into the Nebraska State Constitution.
Through all of this, the remaining members of First UMC felt isolated within our congregation, our conference, our denomination, and our nation. During our lead pastor’s suspension, the pro-inclusion group within the membership of our church could not include the pastoral leadership of the congregation in meetings about how to live out our mission as a welcoming and inclusive congregation under the circumstances. Our worship services were picketed regularly by anti-gay hate groups. We felt precious little support from across the denomination and the country.
So, I am amused when the pro-exclusion forces in the global church try to intimidate me into abandoning the United Methodist Church by simply reaffirming the existing exclusive language in the UMC Book of Discipline, making the language more precise, and stiffening the penalties for violating it. The part of me that is amused thinks, “Is that all you’ve got? Sharpened language and stiffened penalties? We still have our clergy. Our congregation is unified in support of a mission of inclusive and loving ministry to the world. Congregations all over the Great Plains UMC Annual Conference and all over the United States are exploring joining us in the UMC Reconciling Ministries Network. We are unified, we are powerful, and we are not alone. I thought you were going to do something to us. I thought you were going to hurt us. Is that really all you’ve got?”
But part of me is also pained. I am pained to see LGBTQ+ friends of mine who feel unable to don a rainbow stole and take their regular places in the choir of my congregation because our denomination says that people who love as they love are unwelcome. I am pained to hear LGBTQ+ candidates for United Methodist ordained ministry reconsidering their candidacy because of the expressed intention of the global church to exclude them from ordained ministry. I recognize that I would probably feel less amusement and more pain if I were gay rather than straight. I am still processing what I think about that.
This stew of emotions is still boiling inside me. I don’t feel the same way about the hurtful actions of our global church this week as I did last week. I don’t expect to feel the same way next week as I do this week. But I know that God is not finished with us yet. It helps me to recall the grounding Scripture that my son Daniel chose to read when he was confirmed as an adult member of First UMC in 2017:
“For surely I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord, “plans for welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.” (Jeremiah 29.11)
I still believe in God’s promise of a future with hope. I believe we will experience it together.
Wednesday, March 6, 2019
Springing Forward!
Dear Urban Abbey Community
Last week was heartbreaking and life-giving at the same time…this is a hallmark of powerful moments. I am grieved for the folks with hardened hearts and I am grieved for the spiritual violence of General Conference. And yet, our ministry received an outpouring of love and support. People from our community reached out, with phone calls and emails, Steve (our neighbor) made us stickers saying I’m not traditionalist and Rabbi Linder dedicated his sermon to the Urban Abbey’s work. We have friends, we have support and while I might have wept, just a little, when we remembered our baptism and its call to resist evil and oppression, I saw your faces. I feel more resolved than ever at the gift of our community and our call to be inclusive, expansive and loving.
We have been growing. Every year we include more people and connect with new partners. Our work is expanding and our staff will be growing into our work as well. This summer we have two natural transitions. Eithne and Rachel are heading on to new adventures in graduate school and perhaps even Methodist Global Mission Fellowship programs. Knowing this has given the Board and me the opportunity to approach our next steps and our growth with intention. We can re-organize our staff structures to meet our emerging needs. This is a big step and one of many opportunities before us.
This is why I am thrilled to announce in July we will welcome Rev. Rebecca Hjelle (yell-e). She will care for guests at the coffee bar, nurture our staff and select books, cards and fair trade gifts. She will help us include more people. She will help us launch mid-week worship services, including Wesley Pub and Open Mic Worship (where 14-22 year olds can share their voices). Launching new services is our next step in including folks and expanding the ways we build relationships. As our Sunday morning services grow, we must look to include folks in new ways. I am ever grateful for Rebecca’s leadership; she has a background in Theater Education and she will support and nurture our One Room Sunday School House volunteer teachers and our UnVBS (Tweens -Teens) volunteers. Youth and children are our growing edge, and with Rebecca’s leadership I believe we will be in a place to grow a robust ministry that nurtures critical thinking, develops leadership skills, illustrates methods of prayer/meditation, and teaches love. I believe our ministries will become examples for others to learn from, as progressive Christian curriculum is almost impossible to find in the world and we can help lead the way. We can make it easier for other progressive communities to do good work. She will march with us for the Women’s March, as is her tradition - and I invite you to join us to meet her.
We are growing. We are in a good and healthy place financially. I am not worried about the larger church and we are not deterred or afraid to take our next steps. We are moving forward and we can celebrate. Rebecca and I began in ministry together. I am excited to work with her and excited for the gifts she brings. I have witnessed her good work! I am also thrilled that we are doing something so special here that she wants to come be a part of the adventure! She has a world of choices and she chose us. You can read more about Rebecca below.
I invite you to hold her in prayer. I invite you to hold me in prayer. I invite you to hold the Abbey staff. leaders and guests in prayer. I invite you to hold the larger church in prayer. Those prayers may be as simple as speaking the names aloud in a moment when you are in a space of mindfulness.
Here’s to the future! Here’s to inclusion!
Your friendly local Abbot,
Rev. Debra McKnight, Founding Pastor
At the Conference and District levels, she has served on the Risk-Taking Mission and Justice Team, the Camp Fontanelle Board, the Missouri River District Committee on Ordained Ministry, and the Great Plains Board of Ordained Ministry where she is currently the Chair of the Call Team. She is also finishing her term on the Great Plains Delegation to General Conference this Spring.
Rebecca is also an aunt and a dog mom – and she has all the pictures to prove it!
Tuesday, March 5, 2019
A Letter from the Bishop on the Occasion of Urban Abbey's Chartering
A letter written by Bishop Saenz
The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit on this special day of celebration and dreaming new and bigger dreams for God and the people of Omaha.
I celebrate and rejoice with you and the Urban Abbey congregation for becoming our newest chartered United Methodist Church in the Great Plains Conference.
Today is a day, Rev. McKnight, for looking back to the earlier days when God put a dream in your heart, soul, and mind of creating an inclusive and welcoming fair-trade coffee shop, bookstore and church located in the heart of Downtown Omaha’s Old Market to reach professionals and students. Today is a day for rekindling and recommitting yourselves to the dream of a restorative and transformational place where people from all walks of life can connect and find belonging, grow in deep relationships, practice their faith, share their gifts, and agree on actions that make a difference in people’s lives and the world.
Your dream has created an NPO and church that supports Youth Emergency Services in their mission to help homeless and vulnerable youth turn their lives around. You support Nebraska Appleseed in their mission to increase justice and opportunity for all Nebraskans. You have provided 800 AIDS tests to the Nebraska AIDS Project. You have helped new refugee and immigrant families maneuver through our complex immigration system through assistance from Justice for our Neighbors. You champion and support your teachers. And you seek out and foster spiritual practice and interfaith dialogue. Through all these efforts, you show forth God’s goodness and concern for the people of Omaha and greater Nebraska. Your partnerships and ministries advocate, help, heal, seek justice, and work for peace in a broken, calloused, and deeply divided world.
As with any new venture, Debra, I’m sure there were days when the vision of a flourishing Urban Abbey dimmed because of the numerous challenges you faced along the way, especially at the beginning. At times like that, it would have been easy to give up, but you did not. God’s Spirit kept encouraging you, opening one door, closing another, and leading you forward in those critical moments of doubt when you did not know what the future held. You held on to your vision by faith through the encouragement of your husband Mike, your colleagues, the conference leadership, and the growing number of people who believed in you and the vision God planted in you. You persevered with courage, resilience, and faith in Christ’s faithfulness and provision. You trusted that a breakthrough was nearby in those vulnerable moments and you pushed forward and kept pushing forward day in, day out, month after month, year after year. And now, here you are, ready to lead a growing and missionally robust community of faith to charter as our newest United Methodist Church of the Great Plains Conference!
I celebrate the grace of God that has brought and woven together into a church body all the beautiful Urban Abbey people in faith, hope, and love of God and neighbor. You are all God’s masterpieces, created anew in Christ Jesus, so you can, through your manifold gifts and abilities, do the good things God has planned for you long ago. Your presence and belonging at Urban Abbey and the Great Plains Conference make our church stronger, our witness more vibrant, and our doors more open to all people.
Today is also a day to look forward with hope, trusting that God who brought you this far, is able to do far more abundantly than all that we can ask or think, according to the power at work within us. I look forward hearing about all the new ways God’s Spirit will lead you to restore and transform new lives, your community, and the world.
To God be glory in the church and Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever.
02/15/19
Dear Rev. Debra McKnight, charter members of Urban Abbey United Methodist Church, and friends:
Dear Rev. Debra McKnight, charter members of Urban Abbey United Methodist Church, and friends:
The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit on this special day of celebration and dreaming new and bigger dreams for God and the people of Omaha.
I celebrate and rejoice with you and the Urban Abbey congregation for becoming our newest chartered United Methodist Church in the Great Plains Conference.
Today is a day, Rev. McKnight, for looking back to the earlier days when God put a dream in your heart, soul, and mind of creating an inclusive and welcoming fair-trade coffee shop, bookstore and church located in the heart of Downtown Omaha’s Old Market to reach professionals and students. Today is a day for rekindling and recommitting yourselves to the dream of a restorative and transformational place where people from all walks of life can connect and find belonging, grow in deep relationships, practice their faith, share their gifts, and agree on actions that make a difference in people’s lives and the world.
Your dream has created an NPO and church that supports Youth Emergency Services in their mission to help homeless and vulnerable youth turn their lives around. You support Nebraska Appleseed in their mission to increase justice and opportunity for all Nebraskans. You have provided 800 AIDS tests to the Nebraska AIDS Project. You have helped new refugee and immigrant families maneuver through our complex immigration system through assistance from Justice for our Neighbors. You champion and support your teachers. And you seek out and foster spiritual practice and interfaith dialogue. Through all these efforts, you show forth God’s goodness and concern for the people of Omaha and greater Nebraska. Your partnerships and ministries advocate, help, heal, seek justice, and work for peace in a broken, calloused, and deeply divided world.
As with any new venture, Debra, I’m sure there were days when the vision of a flourishing Urban Abbey dimmed because of the numerous challenges you faced along the way, especially at the beginning. At times like that, it would have been easy to give up, but you did not. God’s Spirit kept encouraging you, opening one door, closing another, and leading you forward in those critical moments of doubt when you did not know what the future held. You held on to your vision by faith through the encouragement of your husband Mike, your colleagues, the conference leadership, and the growing number of people who believed in you and the vision God planted in you. You persevered with courage, resilience, and faith in Christ’s faithfulness and provision. You trusted that a breakthrough was nearby in those vulnerable moments and you pushed forward and kept pushing forward day in, day out, month after month, year after year. And now, here you are, ready to lead a growing and missionally robust community of faith to charter as our newest United Methodist Church of the Great Plains Conference!
I celebrate the grace of God that has brought and woven together into a church body all the beautiful Urban Abbey people in faith, hope, and love of God and neighbor. You are all God’s masterpieces, created anew in Christ Jesus, so you can, through your manifold gifts and abilities, do the good things God has planned for you long ago. Your presence and belonging at Urban Abbey and the Great Plains Conference make our church stronger, our witness more vibrant, and our doors more open to all people.
Today is also a day to look forward with hope, trusting that God who brought you this far, is able to do far more abundantly than all that we can ask or think, according to the power at work within us. I look forward hearing about all the new ways God’s Spirit will lead you to restore and transform new lives, your community, and the world.
To God be glory in the church and Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever.
Ruben Saenz Jr.
Bishop, Great Plains Conference
Bishop, Great Plains Conference
Sunday, March 3, 2019
A Rabbi Speaks About Christianity from a Unitarian Pulpit
A sermon written by Rabbi Linder
In 2006 I started my rabbinate in Omaha, Nebraska. Shortly after, I met Debra McKnight. Debra served as the Associate Reverend at the First United Methodist Church located just across the street. She gave me one of the more unique gifts I’ve received in my 13 year rabbinate. One morning, I came into my office and found a pineapple on my desk. Attached was a welcoming note, referring to the sweetness of friendship and interfaith partnership. Debra quickly became a wonderful colleague and friend. During my time in Omaha, she founded her own community, Urban Abbey. It is part-coffee shop, part church, and all wonderful. Tonight’s sermon is dedicated to her, and the values that Debra and her colleagues continue fighting for.
The Methodist Church has a motto: Open Hearts. Open Minds. Open Doors. But this past Tuesday afternoon, Methodist delegates from across the globe convened in St. Louis and they passed a highly controversial measure known what as the Traditional Plan. As this policy stands, someone who identifies as gay can not be a member of the Methodist clergy. Added to that is the prohibition on its clergy from performing same sex weddings. Clergy who officiate at same-sex weddings can receive a one-year unpaid suspension from their church. A second suspense could result in removal. Just as God hardened Pharoah’s heart, this policy only serves to closes the hearts, minds and doors of the Methodist Church.
I am not a Christian, although I do like the idea that this rabbi is discussing Christian theology from a Unitarian pulpit.
Yes, Leviticus clearly states: A man shall not lie with another man. Genesis clearly states: Be fruitful and multiply. These two verses are bandied about out as proof-texts for the so-called sin of homosexuality. Religionists hide behind these verses for theological protection: The Bible says it! I’m not homophobic … it’s what God says!
The Bible says so.
Yes it does. But the Bible also says not to mix different linens when wearing clothes. It commands us not to mix milk and meat. It tells us to stone someone that tells a lie. It tells us to love your neighbor as yourself. It commands us not to lie or covet. I often think that people who use The Bible says so as evidence against homosexuality are really looking for a verse of Bible to buttress a belief that they have.
Think about it this way: You go to an archery range and see two people trying to hit the bullseye. One of them pulls back their bow, aims the shot, takes a deep breath and lets go. The arrow narrowly misses. The second does something strange. He walks to where the targets are, armed with an easel, a large piece of paper and a marker. He takes his arrow and sticks it firmly in the paper. And then he draws a bullseye around it and then claims, Look, I got a bullseye! Same thing applies for Look, it’s in the Bible! Speaking from our own tradition, one can say almost any opinion and then find a scholar somewhere that can pluck out a verse of Torah or a text from Talmud that supports it.
Those that claim The Bible says so engage in what I call Levitical-cherry-picking. It’s bad theology, it’s intellectually disingenuous, and it’s immoral. It’s time to call it out. Adding to this is the fact that within Christianity, Levitical laws pale in importance when compared to the four Gospels. Do you want to know how many times Jesus talks about the abomination of homosexuality? Zero. But the number of times that Jesus talks about open minds, open hearts and open doors? Too many to count.
There’s also the old canard that I also homosexuality is not natural, because a same-sex couple can’t be fruitful and multiply. Again, it is true that a gay couple cannot conceive a child. But what about those amongst us that are single, or do not have children, whether by choice or by circumstance - are we also an abomination? Are we living in sin?
There is some good news. If the recent vote was made only by American Methodist churches, the LGBTQ community would have full inclusion. American delegates voted 2-to–1 against the Traditional Plan. More encouraging is the fact that some of the Traditional Planwill be likely be toned down in the future. Reverend McKnight talks about finding new allies in this fight amongst heterosexual white men. She talks about continuing to love people. She says, I love what we can do together. In reading her recent blog post, I find one line particularly moving. She quotes one of the delegates at the recent vote that said, Resurrection happens and it’s not because anyone voted for it.
Putting this into a Jewish framework: God gave us the Torah. It’s up to us what to do with it. A famous Talmud passage suggests exactly this; Rabbis are debating over an esoteric matter of law and one of the rabbi’s says, I am so sure that I am right that I am asking God to tell you! And within the story, sure enough, God tells the rabbis that he is right. But it’s what happens next that is fascinating: The rabbis tell God to stay out of it - to essentially mind God’s own business - because the practice of deciding Jewish law is now in our hands.
The continuation and interpretation of revelation is part of the foundation of my religious identity. It’s even in our name, Reform Judaism. We are constantly reforming. This is why it was relatively painless when Sally Priesand was ordained as the first female rabbi in 1974. In 1990, our reforming continued with the CCAR’s statement that Jews should be fully integrated in the life of the Jewish community regardless of sexual orientation. In 1996, the CCAR said that same-sex couples should be granted every right and responsibility as heterosexual couples. And in 2015, the URJ overwhelmingly adopted a resolution affirming the rights of transgender and gender non-conforming people.
Think about this in contrast to the The Methodist Book of Discipline Statements. Section 304.3 states: The practice of homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching. Nancy Denardo, one of the representatives that voted in favor of the Traditional Plan, and against the more liberal One Church Plan said: The One Church Plan does not agree with the words of our savior. It deceives young persons into believing that same-gender marriage is Ok with God - when it is clearly not.
More good news: I can tell you that many Methodist churches, including many of its divinity schools will be in open defiance against these rules. They will perform same-sex weddings, and it’s very possible (and hopeful) that LGBTQ individuals will continue to be clergy and continue to be ordained.
In some ways, these recent events make me proud to be a Reform Jew. We still have work to do with racial equality and women’s rights, but we’re getting there. Our revelation will continue.
And at the same time, we can’t rest just because we have open doors and open hearts. We must work with Debra and with all other people of faith who fight to keep doors open and hearts open. Just like our prayerbook says, There is no way to get from here to there, except by holding hands and marching together.
In 2006 I started my rabbinate in Omaha, Nebraska. Shortly after, I met Debra McKnight. Debra served as the Associate Reverend at the First United Methodist Church located just across the street. She gave me one of the more unique gifts I’ve received in my 13 year rabbinate. One morning, I came into my office and found a pineapple on my desk. Attached was a welcoming note, referring to the sweetness of friendship and interfaith partnership. Debra quickly became a wonderful colleague and friend. During my time in Omaha, she founded her own community, Urban Abbey. It is part-coffee shop, part church, and all wonderful. Tonight’s sermon is dedicated to her, and the values that Debra and her colleagues continue fighting for.
The Methodist Church has a motto: Open Hearts. Open Minds. Open Doors. But this past Tuesday afternoon, Methodist delegates from across the globe convened in St. Louis and they passed a highly controversial measure known what as the Traditional Plan. As this policy stands, someone who identifies as gay can not be a member of the Methodist clergy. Added to that is the prohibition on its clergy from performing same sex weddings. Clergy who officiate at same-sex weddings can receive a one-year unpaid suspension from their church. A second suspense could result in removal. Just as God hardened Pharoah’s heart, this policy only serves to closes the hearts, minds and doors of the Methodist Church.
I am not a Christian, although I do like the idea that this rabbi is discussing Christian theology from a Unitarian pulpit.
Yes, Leviticus clearly states: A man shall not lie with another man. Genesis clearly states: Be fruitful and multiply. These two verses are bandied about out as proof-texts for the so-called sin of homosexuality. Religionists hide behind these verses for theological protection: The Bible says it! I’m not homophobic … it’s what God says!
The Bible says so.
Yes it does. But the Bible also says not to mix different linens when wearing clothes. It commands us not to mix milk and meat. It tells us to stone someone that tells a lie. It tells us to love your neighbor as yourself. It commands us not to lie or covet. I often think that people who use The Bible says so as evidence against homosexuality are really looking for a verse of Bible to buttress a belief that they have.
Think about it this way: You go to an archery range and see two people trying to hit the bullseye. One of them pulls back their bow, aims the shot, takes a deep breath and lets go. The arrow narrowly misses. The second does something strange. He walks to where the targets are, armed with an easel, a large piece of paper and a marker. He takes his arrow and sticks it firmly in the paper. And then he draws a bullseye around it and then claims, Look, I got a bullseye! Same thing applies for Look, it’s in the Bible! Speaking from our own tradition, one can say almost any opinion and then find a scholar somewhere that can pluck out a verse of Torah or a text from Talmud that supports it.
Those that claim The Bible says so engage in what I call Levitical-cherry-picking. It’s bad theology, it’s intellectually disingenuous, and it’s immoral. It’s time to call it out. Adding to this is the fact that within Christianity, Levitical laws pale in importance when compared to the four Gospels. Do you want to know how many times Jesus talks about the abomination of homosexuality? Zero. But the number of times that Jesus talks about open minds, open hearts and open doors? Too many to count.
There’s also the old canard that I also homosexuality is not natural, because a same-sex couple can’t be fruitful and multiply. Again, it is true that a gay couple cannot conceive a child. But what about those amongst us that are single, or do not have children, whether by choice or by circumstance - are we also an abomination? Are we living in sin?
There is some good news. If the recent vote was made only by American Methodist churches, the LGBTQ community would have full inclusion. American delegates voted 2-to–1 against the Traditional Plan. More encouraging is the fact that some of the Traditional Planwill be likely be toned down in the future. Reverend McKnight talks about finding new allies in this fight amongst heterosexual white men. She talks about continuing to love people. She says, I love what we can do together. In reading her recent blog post, I find one line particularly moving. She quotes one of the delegates at the recent vote that said, Resurrection happens and it’s not because anyone voted for it.
Putting this into a Jewish framework: God gave us the Torah. It’s up to us what to do with it. A famous Talmud passage suggests exactly this; Rabbis are debating over an esoteric matter of law and one of the rabbi’s says, I am so sure that I am right that I am asking God to tell you! And within the story, sure enough, God tells the rabbis that he is right. But it’s what happens next that is fascinating: The rabbis tell God to stay out of it - to essentially mind God’s own business - because the practice of deciding Jewish law is now in our hands.
The continuation and interpretation of revelation is part of the foundation of my religious identity. It’s even in our name, Reform Judaism. We are constantly reforming. This is why it was relatively painless when Sally Priesand was ordained as the first female rabbi in 1974. In 1990, our reforming continued with the CCAR’s statement that Jews should be fully integrated in the life of the Jewish community regardless of sexual orientation. In 1996, the CCAR said that same-sex couples should be granted every right and responsibility as heterosexual couples. And in 2015, the URJ overwhelmingly adopted a resolution affirming the rights of transgender and gender non-conforming people.
Think about this in contrast to the The Methodist Book of Discipline Statements. Section 304.3 states: The practice of homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching. Nancy Denardo, one of the representatives that voted in favor of the Traditional Plan, and against the more liberal One Church Plan said: The One Church Plan does not agree with the words of our savior. It deceives young persons into believing that same-gender marriage is Ok with God - when it is clearly not.
More good news: I can tell you that many Methodist churches, including many of its divinity schools will be in open defiance against these rules. They will perform same-sex weddings, and it’s very possible (and hopeful) that LGBTQ individuals will continue to be clergy and continue to be ordained.
In some ways, these recent events make me proud to be a Reform Jew. We still have work to do with racial equality and women’s rights, but we’re getting there. Our revelation will continue.
And at the same time, we can’t rest just because we have open doors and open hearts. We must work with Debra and with all other people of faith who fight to keep doors open and hearts open. Just like our prayerbook says, There is no way to get from here to there, except by holding hands and marching together.
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