Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Resurrection of Call


I went for a run this morning in the frost of Stony Point. Up a hill from the conference center is an old cemetery, and my route took me through it. I noticed, in particular, one large headstone with its back to the path I was on. I could see no details of dates of birth or death or even first name, just the all caps word "CALL." I wondered, "was this a request, as in, 'call me when I'm gone'? Or, was it a sign of an untimely demise of a central theological concept? Considering the latter possibility, as I ran I pondered the death of call. But, being part of a resurrection people, I also considered the rebirth of vocation.
Being in the midst of an intense 72 hour consultation on evangelism, I pondered the rebirth of the call to share the good news with a world that so desperately needs to hear a bene diction -- a good word, a word of good news.
It was a fascinating conversation with about 80 or so committed Presbyterian leaders from across the country and from across the spectrum of Presbyterian life and theology.
The conversation was by turns inspiring and frustrating. The inspiration came, as inspiration so often does, from the rich and compelling personal stories shared in groups, in worship, over food and drink. The frustrations arose, as frustrations often do, from the spinning of wheels when we either bogged down in process or couldn't quite get to the heart of the matter of what we variously mean by that slippery word "evangelism."
Nevertheless, despite the slipping and sliding and occasional sense of "stuckness," I think 80 leaders left Stony Point committed to act on what we learned from each other.
Whether or not the word "evangelism" can be restored, perhaps the practice can experience a revitalization if the experience of the past few days announces the resurrection of a common call.

Monday, November 10, 2008

Blogging Out Loud


It's getting late, so nothing I post at this point should be taken with any seriousness!
I spent the afternoon, and will spend all of tomorrow, at a consultation on evangelism at the Stony Point Center in New York. It's been an interesting afternoon and evening. GA Moderator Bruce Reyes Chow is here (and he's podcasting right now and has been twittering all afternoon ... and if I was at all tech savvy I'd understand exactly what all of that means and how it might be used effectively for evangelic outreach!).
Lots of good conversation on the meaning of evangelism, and lots of food for thought, and in the spirit of "blogging out loud," I'm posting a couple of random responses that have not yet achieved the level of even random thoughts.
First, it is helpful to be in the midst of the more evangelical wing of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) and to spend a while immersed in that language.
Second, I would rather being singing the songs of the Iona Community than the contemporary evangelical praise music that dominated our worship this evening -- songs that focus exclusively on Jesus on the cross and Jesus on the throne of heaven as if Jesus never had a life.
Third, numbers one and two above lead me to wonder what it is we think we are calling people to when we invite them to faith.

Saturday, November 08, 2008

Change in the Air


Fall has long been my favorite time of year. I love the colors. I love walking through the woods and feeling the leaves crunch, listening to the swirl around in the wind, smelling a bit of death and decay. More than any other season, fall reminds me of endings and new beginnings.
So it was with a strong sense of personal decay -- or, at least, middle agedness -- that I took my oldest on a college visit to Mary Washington University.
It was a stunningly beautiful autumn day, and, as has been the case all fall, change was in the air. This time, though, it was personal.

Friday, November 07, 2008

Change We Can Believe In!

Well, not so much. Actually, just got tired of the old format and thought, after almost four years of posting here, that it was time for a change. Hope you find it a bit cleaner and easier to read.

Wednesday, November 05, 2008

Yes We Can!


Tired, mostly, is my response today to the election yesterday of Barack Obama. Too many late nights in a row watching politics and history unfold.
But mixed with the tiredness is a sense of hope and of pride in being a citizen of the world's oldest democracy.
Yes we can overcome a history of racism -- not in one night, not by the election of one man, but yes, we can overcome.
Listening, today, to responses from people around the world it is clear that the world is looking at us with hope because we have come so far in overcoming our national original sin, and moved one step closer to being a more perfect union.
None of that has anything to do with the issues, the partisan positions or the problems that will come President Obama's way -- and the failures that will no doubt trouble his administration along the way as well.
But it is to say that, a Obama noted, only in America is this story possible.
As I watched it unfold last night, I was particularly moved by an interview with Rep. John Lewis, who recalled standing with Martin Luther King on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.
The arc of the moral universe is long, and every once in a great while we get to witness it bend a little closer to justice. Last night, all those who have put their hand to the work of bending that arc with respect to race in America saw the arc bend again. Yes we can!

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Really, you can't make this up ...


Seems that the good folks at the 700 Club have called for prayers for the economy, so the "faithful" gathered at the bull on Wall Street to pray. Did these people never read the Exodus story? Does the word "idolatry" ring a bell? The prosperity gospel has run amok. "Lord Jesus, protect us from your followers."

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Pastors, Politics, Religion, Questions

I suppose it's only natural that less than a week prior to a significant national election I might have politics on the brain just now, but this story really did sidetrack my sermon writing today.
Seems that the North Carolina U.S. Senate race has taken a particularly nasty turn with a new ad from Sen. Elizabeth Dole (linked here) that suggests that her opponent, Kay Hagan, is, well, godless.
It's an interesting line of attack against a woman who is an elder in the Greensboro First Presbyterian Church where her family has been members for, oh, about 100 years. She's taught Sunday School for years, worked on the congregation's local missions and basically been an all-around good church-going, God-fearing woman.
All of that is, alas, politics as usual these days.
But the story has another twist that got my attention. Hagan's pastor of 17 years has recorded a radio ad for her campaign. He defends her faith and values and endorses her election.
I'm not sure of his present ecclesiastical standing. He may well be honorably retired and not tied to a congregation whose tax-exempt status could be put at risk.
But the whole thing leaves me wondering what I would do if a member of my congregation was running for public office and came under such a scurrilous attack.
What do you think?

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

and now, for something completely different ...

Because I am a small "d" democrat and believe that every voice should be heard, here's a different perspective on faith and the upcoming election. Enjoy ... or, at least, endure.

Monday, October 27, 2008

Neighbor, Community, Politics

I've worked on campaigns going back to the 70s, so you'd figure that well before middle age I would have learned something about the value and meaning of retail politics. Well, duh, I learned it again yesterday as I did a bit of door-to-door work for my choice in this election.
The Obama campaign has canvass launch sites spread across Arlington County (which is among the smallest -- by land area -- counties in the United States). The ground game across Northern Virginia is simply huge with Obama canvassers heading out from at least eight sites across the county.
When I got to my launch site yesterday there were 15 people getting their clipboards and preparing to hit the sidewalks at 3:00 on a beautiful fall Sunday afternoon. You can do the math on the likely number of canvassers in Arlington yesterday for three shifts. We probably had personal contacts in more than 1,000 households.
I managed to find people at home in a dozen. Three, in particular, reminded me firsthand of both the importance of neighborhood politics and a deeper and broader sense of neighborhood that ought to prevail in our politics.
I can walk up the hill from my house to the launch site. I have done so each of the past four weekends and asked for a route that doesn't require me to get in my car. This gives me the opportunity to talk to people who really are my neighbors in a traditional sense of the word. When I find someone at home I always mention the street I live on, and that bit of personal information never fails to open up a channel of conversation.
I met a neighbor yesterday who is a Pakistani-American who told me, "I was enthusiastic for Obama until he started talking about invading my country." I admitted that I was not enthusiastic about that stance either, but that I believe Obama is committed strong diplomacy and multilateralism, and that his calm response to the financial crisis gives us a strong sense of the way he will respond to international crises as well.
My neighbor was not convinced, and he told me of his concern for friends and family in Pakistan. We talked for a while longer, and he said he was likely to vote for Obama but that he probably wouldn't really make up his mind until he was standing in the voting booth.
I'd like to be able to tell you that I swung this voter, but, instead, he reminded me that all politics -- even on international issues -- remains local, and his personal connections to friends and family in Pakistan shifted his sense of locality and of responsibility to neighbors. So, I just said to him, "I think the most important work of this campaign begins on Nov. 5, when we have to work hard to hold Sen. Obama accountable and push him to live up to his own highest ideals, especially on issues like this."
As I walked on to the next house I thought about the long hours of work I have done organizing with Christian Peace Witness for Iraq and about our internal conversations about the need for a strong peace witness around the broader war on terror and the ongoing violence in Afghanistan. My neighbor reminded me that the real work does begin on Nov. 5, because the wisdom of the ancient psalmist is right, "Do not put your trust in princes, in mortals, in whom there is no help. When their breath departs, they return to the earth; on that very day their plans perish."
It will be up to us to put the real breath and life into the Obama presidency, just as we have into the Obama candidacy. So, if you are committed to just and lasting peace, keep organizing, keep pressing, keep talking with neighbors.
I was still thinking about my Pakistani-American neighbor when I knocked on the door of an African-American neighbor. I was looking for an 18-year-old man, a potential first-time voter, and he was home.
In fact, his whole family was there and they gathered around the front porch with me to talk about the election. We talked about the fact that his grandparents' generation lived under Jim Crow laws and fought for the right to vote. I told him that I was born in Alabama and, as an Scots-Irish-American, had probably had my diapers changed in "whites only" public restrooms.
His younger sister, a charming six-year-old with beads in her braids and a gap where one of her front teeth used to be, told me that she had polled her entire family and got 13 votes for Obama. Then I remarked how she was about the same age as Sen. Obama's younger daughter, so maybe when the Obama family moves into the White House she could send the girls a "welcome to the neighborhood" card. I said that clearly she was the head of this household so I gave her the campaign literature and elicited a promise from her that she would make certain that her big brother made it to the polls on election day.
With a solemn look on her face, she promised that she would. Not only is politics local, sometimes it is all in the family.
Of course, the definition of family, kin and neighbor is what's at stake so often in our politics. This is nothing new under the sun. Jesus' parable of the good Samaritan was all about defining neighbor, about moving beyond tribal politics to a broader understanding of community.
The last door I knocked on was a Latino-American family just up the hill from my house. The mom and one daughter were home. Although both were enthusiastic Obama supporters, neither were voters -- the daughter being too young and the mother not yet a United States citizen.
The daughter chided her mom for "not taking the test yet." The mom chuckled and said, "I know, I know. I will soon." I said, "well, we're going to want to reelect Obama in four years, so maybe you can aim to be a citizen for that election."
I told them I lived just down the hill, and the daughter said she was in the same school as my younger son. It was abundantly clear that we share a common stake in the neighborhood, the community, the commonwealth.
I ended the afternoon thinking that maybe, if we all continue to work together for authentic change and if we all continue to talk with our neighbors as often as possible and not just once every four years, then someday we will share a deeper sense of that commonwealth no matter what hyphen happens to fall in our American identity.
The heart of the faith-based community organizing that gave Obama his start is personal relationships. While progressives certainly hold no monopoly on personal relationships, there is a reason why such organizing has a particular power for progressives.
Progressives place a high value on relationship while the corresponding value for many conservatives is purity. That's one of the reasons that same-sex issues, for example, are such a hot button: in the conservative evangelical worldview sex outside of marriage between a man and a woman is not pure, and the question of purity trumps the value of any relationship at question. You can detect the same logic -- absent lousy Biblical interpretation -- in the question of immigration which devolves too quickly to the question of who is a "real" American and who is not, who is in and who is out, who is pure and who is tainted.
But the deeper our relationships with neighbors who don't share the same background and experience and ties of kinship, the more we are forced to call into question our own understanding of what constitutes "purity."
My Pakistani-American neighbor pushes me to remain critical of my own candidate in productive ways. My African-American neighbor reminds me of my own roots and the privileges that come with them, and thus pushes me to remain critical of power structures that enshrine exclusions. My Latino-American neighbor reminds me of the promise of America that I often take for granted, and thus pushes me to remain committed to keeping doors -- and borders -- safely open.
All of these neighbors remind me of the urgency of continuing this work beyond next week. We must find more and creative way to use the remarkable network built by the Obama campaign as a movement that begins come November 5, rather than a project that ends on November 4. As Sen. Kennedy would say, "the work goes on, the cause endures, the hope still lives, and the dreams shall never die."

Monday, October 20, 2008

When I Was Hungry ...

This evening was my congregation's monthly night to bag groceries for the Arlington Food Assistance Center. We filled 350 bags with rice, beans, veggies, and soup. The volunteer coordinator at the center told us that they've seen a serious uptick in clients over the past couple of months -- almost 40 percent increase in the number of folks served each week here (from 800 to more than 1,100) in one of the metro area's more affluent inner-ring suburbs.
One of the women bagging with us tonight works for Wachovia. She was telling us of the huge decline in the retirement plans of their 100,000 employees as the financial crisis dropped Wachovia's stock from the $15.00 range to less than a buck over the course of three or four months. Throughout the period employees were reassured via e-mails from management that everything was fine.
It struck me speaking with her that it is somehow perfectly fitting that the Bush era began with Enron and will end with the financial crisis, and throughout it has been the folks who work for a living who have been the victims. Now more and more of them are coming to places like AFAC. They are hungry. Who will feed them?
Oh, it was a beautiful autumn day today with a palpable sense of seasonal change in the air, and I voted.

Friday, October 17, 2008

In Jesus' Name ... oy

Tis the season of robocalls I reckon. Our home phone has been inundated with them this week as the McCain campaign tries to convince Virginians to be afraid of Bill Ayers. Well, I guess actually they want us to be afraid of Barack Obama, but it seems more reasonable, given the tenor of the calls, to be afraid of Ayers.
But that's neither here nor there. The church phone today received a robocall from Gordon Klingenschmitt, a former Navy chaplain who was discharged because he insisted on praying, against Navy regulations, in Jesus' name at events which non-Christian Navy personnel were required to attend.
The ex-chaplain has become a Right-wing gadfly focusing on any instance of perceived violation of the rights of chaplains to force Jesus down the throats of non-Christians. Well, of course, he doesn't see it quite like that.
Now he's pulling together an event in Virginia that, so he said on the robocall, is completely non-political. Interestingly enough, this "nonpartisan" and "non-political" rally will take place in Richmond on the Saturday before an election in which Virginia plays a critical swing-state role, but I'm sure that is mere coincidence.
Somehow I don't think the chaplain's robocall was any less political than the McCain camp's robocall, but I'm just the listener on the end of the line.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Fashion a Statement


Someone passed along a note to me today saying that the blog would be better if it touched more on fashion. So, this one's for you.
John Bell was with us this week as charming house guest and as musical guest for a concert evening. Normally I'd go on at length about his remarkable music or his hysterical stories, or staying up till 1:30 Wednesday evening chatting and drinking wine with him, but this is a fashion column today so I'll focus instead on his remarkable shoes.
His was unmistakable and unmissable standing in front of Union Station Monday afternoon in his typical bright shirt and bright red Dr. Martens. Amazing shoes! In the kingdom of God they wear such shoes, and, in the kingdom of God they come in half sizes.
I've looked at many a Dr. Marten over the years, and tried on quite a few. Alas, my feet fall in a half size range and the Docs have all felt either a bit tight or a bit loose. However, the red ones are such that one might just suffer a bit for fashion. After all, they are the proper dress for the kingdom so some sacrifices must be made.

Friday, October 10, 2008

Sad, Scared ... but Full of Hope

It's been a strange week here in Lake Woebegone. Markets crashing. More than enough anxiety to go around in the lives of so many folks.
We had a credit card canceled last week. We had never used it, and the reason given for its cancellation was "lack of use." I know card companies do that, but the timing struck me as interesting, then I heard a commentator on NPR say that card companies were shedding as many accounts as they can, and that having a card canceled by the company is never a good thing for one's credit score. Ah well, one can hope that this is the only nick we get beyond the huge losses on those retirement savings. The quarterly statement arrived today; I'm not planning on opening it.
And in the midst of all this, today, right here in "communist" Arlington (oh, that's what Joe McCain, John's brother, said about our community last week), I saw a car with a bumper sticker that said "Obama bin Laden '08."
I have always considered myself a small 'd' democrat. I believe in hearing lots of voices from lots of communities in the body politic, so the past week of presidential politics has been deeply sad. I am also a Southerner, so when I hear hatred aimed at an African-American leader I get scared, too.
But I heard an older man preach a few weeks back about the way America pulled together in his youth during the Great Depression. I certainly hope that we are not going as far down the economic road as that.
At the same time, we do have resources as a people that we can tap into. That sermon reminded me. Then yesterday, I came across this post from David LaMotte, a man whose music inspires me. As David puts it, "it is the job of Christians to stand with all persecuted people when they are persecuted unfairly, as some Christians stood with Jews in southern France during the holocaust (told beautifully in the book “Lest Innocent Blood Be Shed”) Read what Jesus had to say in the Sermon on the Mount. These are our instructions, and Obama in [Dreams of My Father] is talking about unfair persecution of a religion within our country. Friends, if we’ve stopped believing in religious freedom, we have ceased to be America. If we will only stand up to defend people who agree with us, we have nothing left to be proud of."
Right after I read David's blog, I caught Sarah Vowell's Blog of the Nation on the Puritans. Her commentary led me to look up John Winthrop's sermon, "A Model of Christian Charity," in which he holds the New World up as a city on a hill.
He wrote the piece during the 1630 crossing of the Atlantic as the Puritans came to America to found that city, and lay claim to their share of its promise. The Puritans' vision surely foundered on the shoals of reality and their own excesses -- including Winthrop's -- but Winthrop's advice to those voyagers rings true today as the nation struggles in the rough water of a battered economy and a diminished politics.
"Now the only way to avoid this shipwreck, and to provide for our posterity, is to follow the counsel of Micah, to do justly, to love mercy, to walk humbly with our God. For this end, we must be knit together, in this work, as one man. We must entertain each other in brotherly affection. We must be willing to abridge ourselves of our superfluities, for the supply of others’ necessities. We must uphold a familiar commerce together in all meekness, gentleness, patience and liberality. We must delight in each other; make others’ conditions our own; rejoice together, mourn together, labor and suffer together, always having before our eyes our commission and community in the work, as members of the same body. So shall we keep the unity of the spirit in the bond of peace."

Friday, October 03, 2008

I Buried an Obama Voter Yesterday


I buried an Obama voter yesterday morning at Arlington National Cemetery. Now I have to find at least two new ones here in Virginia to honor the one we lost.
Well, actually it's more accurate to say that I officiated at the commital service and, later in the afternoon, at the memorial service for a 95-year-old woman who lived one of the richest and fullest lives I could imagine. Her name was Sally, and for the sake of her family's privacy, I'll leave it at that.
When she died last month, I remember thinking, "the only two things that Sally would be disappointed about in death are not seeing what comes next in the lives of her great grandchildren and not living long enough to see George W. Bush leave the White House."
She could not stand George Bush!
That last time I visited with her, early this summer, we got to talking politics. This was just after Obama had sewn up the Democratic nomination, and she was so excited by that development. She reflected back on all the remarkable change that she had witnessed over 95 years in this country, and found renewed hope and excitement at the prospect of casting a vote for Obama this fall.
She was born on a farm in South Dakota prior to World War I, when travel was literally horse powered. Married to an Air Force officer, she traveled the world and had the broad-minded vision of one who was well traveled and thoughtful.
Though I didn't say this during the memorial service, as I think about her life I cannot help but compare her to Sarah Palin. Both women of the Great Plains and upper Midwest, the young governor does not hold up well in comparison to the 95-year-old farm girl.
Sally was, for more than 50 years, a member of the congregation that I now serve. She came close to leaving it twice, that I am aware of.
First, about 15 years ago, when the church welcomed into leadership its first out gay elder (or member of the church board). Sally did not consider leaving because the congregation elected a gay elder, she considered leaving because some folks in the congregation were up in arms over it. She thought, "where is the mercy in them?" and "the man is clearly right for the job and his partner is lovely."
That first gay elder and his partner of more than 20 years were at the service yesterday.
The second time she considered leaving was when I told her, a few years back, that both Donald Rumsfeld and Condoleezza Rice were members of Presbyterian churches. She was deeply committed to peace, having served in the Red Cross during World War II, and she could not tolerate the War in Iraq and those who dragged us into it. In the end, she just said, "well, they are not Clarendon Presbyterians!"
She was a passionate believer in equality and in peace. Sarah Palin could have learned a thing or two from her.
When Barack Obama takes office in January, I will go to Sally's grave and lay a flower and a copy of Post.

Wednesday, October 01, 2008

Saving Jesus


So we've begun saving Jesus at Clarendon. We've tossed him a life-ring of conversation and a rope of discussion. Lots of fun. You should join us.

Monday, September 29, 2008

The Coolest Thing About My Church

Yesterday at worship during the prayers of the people a man (who I'll call 'Joe' for the sake of a bit of privacy) prayed for a bit of peace and comfort. His wife, who serves on our session -- Presbyterian-speak for church board -- was with her father who was dying. In addition to that heavy burden, they had lost their 17-year-old dog earlier in the week. They'd also had a couple of family 'highs' -- birth of a grandchild -- in recent weeks so it had been an emotional roller coaster for the past month or so. He was in tears as he prayed aloud.
As powerful as such moments are, they are, to be sure, nothing particularly out of the ordinary in a small church. Except for this: Joe is Jewish.
We say, every Sunday, that Clarendon Presbyterian Church is a house of prayer for all of God's children. And we mean it. Without exception.
We are clear and unapologetic in proclaiming the good news of Jesus. We pray in Jesus' name. But we trust that God hears everybody's prayers. We know that we do not have hold of all there is of God in our Christian confession and are enriched by the faiths of others. We hear Jesus' words, that his father's house has lots of rooms.
And we trust that there is one for Joe -- not because he comes to church, but because he seeks God and anybody who knocks at the door of God's house is going to find a welcome. So in our little wing of the house, we don't have a litmus test of creed or confession for joining the fellowship, offering prayers, serving the least of these, and finding a little peace in the presence of a loving God.
Will Joe ever "find Jesus"? That question holds little interest for me. Frankly, I think it is the wrong question.
Joe is a sojourner, walking a path in fear and trembling -- as Paul put it -- toward the light of life and love that shines in the darkness. Some will only always interpret that light as Jesus.
On the other hand, if light can be both particle and wave, perhaps the metaphor can be expanded, as well. After all, long before Jesus, God told Moses: I will be who I damn well please.

Thursday, September 25, 2008

Changing My Name to ... Fannie Mae

I'll grant that snarky songs don't make for good policy, but still this old Tom Paxson song, performed here by Arlo Guthrie, has been running through my mind this week. Oh to be born with the right name!
At the end of the day, it's better to laugh and sing than to sit quietly and stew. As Emma Goldman said, "if I can't dance I don't want to be part of your revolution." So, stop checking the polls and listening to the spinmeisters bloviate on Bush's speech, and put your favorite tunes on for a while.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Sing Out Against the Darkness

John Bell is coming to town next month and will be doing an evening of songs at my church. I sent out an e-mail blast to invite folks around the area, and one of my good Unitarian friends sent back this note:
"I believe that Emma Goldman said, 'If I can't dance at your revolution, I'm not coming.' If we allow ourselves to feed fears, bathe in despair, and join the chorus of those who know-all, see-all, and realize that all is futility, we do not serve our communities or even ourselves."
Indeed! Sometimes -- often, in fact -- singing is the best response to the darkness of the present moment.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Proving We’re Presbyterian … and Killing Ourselves

I spent the day at a meeting of National Capital Presbytery, and witnessed one of those moments when we prove to ourselves that we are, indeed, Presbyterian. An item of new business was introduced by an ad hoc group of pastors coming from various points along the theological/political spectrum of the church. They recommended that Presbytery suspend its normal mode of operating for one year and use our regularly scheduled meeting times to pursue a discernment model of decision making as a fresh approach to dealing with the issues that have divided the church for decades.
After wrangling about whether or not to refer the question to Presbytery’s council – and wrangling over whether or not to call the question on that referral – we proved our Presbyterian mettle by simply referring the question to the next meeting! While we were in the midst of voting on closing discussion – and confusion reigned over what, exactly, we were voting on – I leaned over to a colleague and said, “this is exactly why we need to try something different; this way of doing business simply doesn’t work for the issues we’re facing.” He said, “get up and say that right now.” I said, “I can’t. It would be out of order.”
The irony of the moment was not lost on us, and it would have been quite funny if it were not quite sad, instead.
The larger, and not unrelated, irony of the day came in the preaching. We were reminded of the deep importance of Sabbath keeping. The irony lay in this: we met at the Presbytery’s beautiful new camp and conference center on a stunningly gorgeous early autumn day … and we spent the entire day, except for a too brief lunch on the porch, indoors. We might as well have met in the fellowship hall of a church in town. At least we would have been honoring creation by not wasting so much gas.
I've spent enough years assisting in outdoor ministries to understand this: it is never worth the trouble of going to a camp if you are not going to use the space.
If we were gathering in a discernment mode, we might go to such a place and spend the morning in silence, free to walk around the hundreds of acres of woods and rolling meadows – to truly celebrate and enjoy creation and praise the Creator. Sabbath time, as Jesus knew and as the preacher reminded us, was created for us. But it is not empty time, worthless time, wasted time. It is time spent refocusing on what is of ultimate concern, on living into our chief purpose: to glorify God and enjoy God forever.
In such joy and praise we discern our callings. Perhaps if Presbytery spent more time in that time we might find new ways of moving forward.
In the meanwhile, we'll meet next time in a fellowship hall and we'll wrangle over something, and we probably won't bring anybody any closer to clarity on that chief purpose.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

Prayers for Peace

Today is the International Day of Prayers for Peace. Here's one that we used this morning in worship, and again this afternoon at the Lafayette Park Peace Witness. It comes from the Philippines.
Grant us peace that will
BREAK our silence in the midst of violence
then prophetic voices shall resonate
Grant us peace that will
PULL US DOWN from the steeple of our pride
then we’ll learn to wash each other’s feet
Grant us peace that will
EMPTY us of hate and intolerance
then we’ll turn guns into guitars and sing
Grant us peace that will
SHUT our mouths up when we speak too much
then we’ll learn to listen and understand what others are saying
Grant us peace that will
DISTURB us in our apathy
then we’ll dance together under the sun
Grant us peace that will
BURN our lethargic hearts
then we’ll endure burning and let love and justice glow
Amen.