I was learning to say goodbye on a multitude of different levels. I was learning to say goodbye to a congregation that I came to love. I was also learning how to say goodbye to my friend and mentor, Marcus Hess. I learned my last week of internship that Marcus was diagnosed with cancer. Marcus passed away on September 13. I got to tell Marcus about the last sermon I preached, and I now share that sermon with you.
Monday, September 17, 2012
Bread and Wine, Flesh and Blood
I was learning to say goodbye on a multitude of different levels. I was learning to say goodbye to a congregation that I came to love. I was also learning how to say goodbye to my friend and mentor, Marcus Hess. I learned my last week of internship that Marcus was diagnosed with cancer. Marcus passed away on September 13. I got to tell Marcus about the last sermon I preached, and I now share that sermon with you.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Who the hell are you?
Sermon for the Sixth Sunday After Pentecost, Year B, July 8, 2012
Delivered at St. Paul Lutheran Church, Oakland, California (my internship site)
“Remember who you are, but remember whose you are.”
I heard those words just last week. I had the privilege and blessing to see one of my close friends, Joshua Serrano, who as a joke I call my “brother from another mother,” be ordained as a minster of Word and Sacrament into the ELCA. It was a pretty incredible ordination service getting to see his friends, family, colleagues, and mentors support him in this call. His internship pastor gave the sermon at the ordination service, and I want to share parts of that sermon with you. She asked Josh, “Why? Why do you want to be a pastor?” That is a good question. It’s also a rhetorical question, but I would have been great to hear Josh’s answer. She also talked about call. One of the common threads of call is that it’s God’s work and tug on our lives and on our hearts. Then she reminded Josh that as a newly ordained minister of Word and Sacrament, “Remember who you are.” Which is pretty much code for “Don’t let this go to your head.” She also reminded him, “Remember whose you are.” Which is not code. Which means Josh is a mortal who belongs to God. Thinking back on this ordination service, I can’t help but tie all three readings to responding to God’s call on our lives and in our hearts. Because you know we’re all called. No one in here is exempt. Yes, you can hide under a pew, but I ask that you don’t do it now during the sermon or during service. You can run away, but please not now, and not any other time during the service. God has a way of seeking people out, even if you’re hiding and running away. Have you thought about how you are called? How that call can be a combination of both terror and comfort? How that call can be both incredibly fulfilling and incredibly draining?
Let’s talk first about Ezekiel and his call. Can you imagine how freaky it would be if God came to you and said, “O mortal, stand up on your feet and I will speak with you?” Because if someone uses that line on me, I usually want to run screaming the other way because 1. I’m either in trouble or 2. I’m being asked to do something HUGE. But this isn’t just any ol’ someone. This is GOD. And God saying, stand up, I want to talk to you? Let’s place ourselves in Ezekiel’s place. How would you feel? Intimidated? Freaked out? Maybe not able to stand? Guess what? Ezekiel’s not able to stand on his own when God comes to him. But Ezekiel doesn’t have to get up on his own. The Spirit places Ezekiel on his feet. But Ezekiel’s call? Not so easy. He’s going to proclaim God’s word with a rebellious people. They may hear… or they may not. Ezekiel has to go forward in a community where people will essentially say, “Who the hell are you?” But God equips Ezekiel in these difficult circumstances. Ezekiel is equipped with God’s Word. He literally eats God’s challenging Word of lament and woe in the form of a scroll. He eats these words of lament and woe… but these words taste as sweet as honey, they feed Ezekiel in the midst of a challenging call. These sweet words are countercultural, but they’re life giving. But they are words people don’t want to hear because they goes against what we want. The Word (and God’s call on our lives) can be considered to be awkward and not widely accepted.
Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians also plays on call. It seems problems with authority don’t go away over time. The church in Corinth was dealing with authority issues with a people coming in saying they’re a true deliverer of God’s Word and authority. People were asking, “Who is a real apostle?” and in asking such a question, Paul was dealing with people who challenged his call and doubted the Spirit’s work in Paul. In their doubting, people are asking Paul, “Who the hell are you?” How does Paul establish his authority as someone called out by God? Well, he talks about a really spiritual friend. But Paul also admits to being a wreck; he talks about being someone with a thorn in his side. But even if Paul is a total wreck of a person, even if Paul’s plagued by this thorn, he’s still called. God’s strength is at work in the midst of human weakness and brokenness. We see that in the person of Jesus. We can also see that in God’s work in our life and how God calls us out. Paul talks about his weakness, and in this weakness, God still uses Paul. God outright tells Paul, “My grace is sufficient for you.”
Then there’s the Gospel. Jesus is having a rough time on his home turf of Nazareth. Sure, his hometown folks are amazed, but they’re quick to turn on Jesus by essentially asking him, “Who the hell are you?” They can’t recognize him as the Son of God. But I want to focus on the second half of the story. Jesus sends the disciples out. He tells them to pack light. But he doesn’t send them out on their own. Jesus equips them in their call to heal and cast our demons. They’re being sent out into uncomfortable and awkward circumstances, but they’re not stuck on their own because he sends them our two by two. The disciples were called and continually sent out in not so great and less than ideal circumstances. There was never a good time for them to wait and to exercise their call. They just had to go.
What about our call? The times where we just don’t want to go? We may feel halted by naysayers in acting out God’s call for us. We may think the thorn in our side impedes us. We ourselves may want to wait. Wait and see when it would be a good time. Wait and see when we can ease into God’s call on us. But there’s not a “good time.” Today’s lessons show us that even in the midst of rebellion, in the midst of adversity, in the midst of people asking us, “Who the hell are you?” and in the midst of brokenness that there is no “good time” to wait and act on our call. Circumstances may not be easy, but we’re equipped in our calls whether we know it or not. Our calls are unique to us, they’re all different, as educators, as administrators, as nursing home volunteers, as those working for social justice... there’s so many ways in which we can be called to be the hands and feet of Christ in the world. When we’re baptized, we’re all called out. We’re all set aside to be ministers in the church. We cannot hide from that (even if we try to stuff ourselves under a pew). When we’re held over or standing at the font, we’re not alone. Baptism is a community event where God’s Living Word meets us in the water. We die in our baptisms where our sinful selves are drowned. We’re also bathed and refreshed in God’s love and grace. We’re surrounded by a community of brothers and sisters that have made a commitment to one another to support each other in our unique calls, our unique ministries. There are days we may not feel the Spirit at work, but the Spirit’s there. There are days when stuff just doesn’t seem to go right. We’re not guaranteed a smooth ride after baptism, after being set aside to be a minister. But we’re guaranteed that we don’t go about our call, and our lives alone. As we go forth thinking about how we’re called, some may as us, “Who the hell are you?” In responding to that question, remember whose you are.
Delivered at St. Paul Lutheran Church, Oakland, California (my internship site)
“Remember who you are, but remember whose you are.”
I heard those words just last week. I had the privilege and blessing to see one of my close friends, Joshua Serrano, who as a joke I call my “brother from another mother,” be ordained as a minster of Word and Sacrament into the ELCA. It was a pretty incredible ordination service getting to see his friends, family, colleagues, and mentors support him in this call. His internship pastor gave the sermon at the ordination service, and I want to share parts of that sermon with you. She asked Josh, “Why? Why do you want to be a pastor?” That is a good question. It’s also a rhetorical question, but I would have been great to hear Josh’s answer. She also talked about call. One of the common threads of call is that it’s God’s work and tug on our lives and on our hearts. Then she reminded Josh that as a newly ordained minister of Word and Sacrament, “Remember who you are.” Which is pretty much code for “Don’t let this go to your head.” She also reminded him, “Remember whose you are.” Which is not code. Which means Josh is a mortal who belongs to God. Thinking back on this ordination service, I can’t help but tie all three readings to responding to God’s call on our lives and in our hearts. Because you know we’re all called. No one in here is exempt. Yes, you can hide under a pew, but I ask that you don’t do it now during the sermon or during service. You can run away, but please not now, and not any other time during the service. God has a way of seeking people out, even if you’re hiding and running away. Have you thought about how you are called? How that call can be a combination of both terror and comfort? How that call can be both incredibly fulfilling and incredibly draining?
Let’s talk first about Ezekiel and his call. Can you imagine how freaky it would be if God came to you and said, “O mortal, stand up on your feet and I will speak with you?” Because if someone uses that line on me, I usually want to run screaming the other way because 1. I’m either in trouble or 2. I’m being asked to do something HUGE. But this isn’t just any ol’ someone. This is GOD. And God saying, stand up, I want to talk to you? Let’s place ourselves in Ezekiel’s place. How would you feel? Intimidated? Freaked out? Maybe not able to stand? Guess what? Ezekiel’s not able to stand on his own when God comes to him. But Ezekiel doesn’t have to get up on his own. The Spirit places Ezekiel on his feet. But Ezekiel’s call? Not so easy. He’s going to proclaim God’s word with a rebellious people. They may hear… or they may not. Ezekiel has to go forward in a community where people will essentially say, “Who the hell are you?” But God equips Ezekiel in these difficult circumstances. Ezekiel is equipped with God’s Word. He literally eats God’s challenging Word of lament and woe in the form of a scroll. He eats these words of lament and woe… but these words taste as sweet as honey, they feed Ezekiel in the midst of a challenging call. These sweet words are countercultural, but they’re life giving. But they are words people don’t want to hear because they goes against what we want. The Word (and God’s call on our lives) can be considered to be awkward and not widely accepted.
Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians also plays on call. It seems problems with authority don’t go away over time. The church in Corinth was dealing with authority issues with a people coming in saying they’re a true deliverer of God’s Word and authority. People were asking, “Who is a real apostle?” and in asking such a question, Paul was dealing with people who challenged his call and doubted the Spirit’s work in Paul. In their doubting, people are asking Paul, “Who the hell are you?” How does Paul establish his authority as someone called out by God? Well, he talks about a really spiritual friend. But Paul also admits to being a wreck; he talks about being someone with a thorn in his side. But even if Paul is a total wreck of a person, even if Paul’s plagued by this thorn, he’s still called. God’s strength is at work in the midst of human weakness and brokenness. We see that in the person of Jesus. We can also see that in God’s work in our life and how God calls us out. Paul talks about his weakness, and in this weakness, God still uses Paul. God outright tells Paul, “My grace is sufficient for you.”
Then there’s the Gospel. Jesus is having a rough time on his home turf of Nazareth. Sure, his hometown folks are amazed, but they’re quick to turn on Jesus by essentially asking him, “Who the hell are you?” They can’t recognize him as the Son of God. But I want to focus on the second half of the story. Jesus sends the disciples out. He tells them to pack light. But he doesn’t send them out on their own. Jesus equips them in their call to heal and cast our demons. They’re being sent out into uncomfortable and awkward circumstances, but they’re not stuck on their own because he sends them our two by two. The disciples were called and continually sent out in not so great and less than ideal circumstances. There was never a good time for them to wait and to exercise their call. They just had to go.
What about our call? The times where we just don’t want to go? We may feel halted by naysayers in acting out God’s call for us. We may think the thorn in our side impedes us. We ourselves may want to wait. Wait and see when it would be a good time. Wait and see when we can ease into God’s call on us. But there’s not a “good time.” Today’s lessons show us that even in the midst of rebellion, in the midst of adversity, in the midst of people asking us, “Who the hell are you?” and in the midst of brokenness that there is no “good time” to wait and act on our call. Circumstances may not be easy, but we’re equipped in our calls whether we know it or not. Our calls are unique to us, they’re all different, as educators, as administrators, as nursing home volunteers, as those working for social justice... there’s so many ways in which we can be called to be the hands and feet of Christ in the world. When we’re baptized, we’re all called out. We’re all set aside to be ministers in the church. We cannot hide from that (even if we try to stuff ourselves under a pew). When we’re held over or standing at the font, we’re not alone. Baptism is a community event where God’s Living Word meets us in the water. We die in our baptisms where our sinful selves are drowned. We’re also bathed and refreshed in God’s love and grace. We’re surrounded by a community of brothers and sisters that have made a commitment to one another to support each other in our unique calls, our unique ministries. There are days we may not feel the Spirit at work, but the Spirit’s there. There are days when stuff just doesn’t seem to go right. We’re not guaranteed a smooth ride after baptism, after being set aside to be a minister. But we’re guaranteed that we don’t go about our call, and our lives alone. As we go forth thinking about how we’re called, some may as us, “Who the hell are you?” In responding to that question, remember whose you are.
Friday, June 15, 2012
Wow, I haven't updated this sucker since January. Which leads my adoring public (all of two readers, thanks y'all) to wonder... where have I been?
I've been on internship.
Internship has been an amazing experience. It's also been quick. I will leave the church and nursing homes where I'm serving in two months. That means the previous ten months have flown rather quickly. I'm left here thinking, wow, where to go from here?
Back to seminary.
For those of you who know me IRL, seminary hasn't been the easiest of experiences. I feel like I started as a lump of clay that was being molded and shaped. A couple of cracks showed up during the journey, but I'm continued to be shaped and molded. And part of that shaping and molding is to be a leader in the church, God willing.
I've been on internship.
Internship has been an amazing experience. It's also been quick. I will leave the church and nursing homes where I'm serving in two months. That means the previous ten months have flown rather quickly. I'm left here thinking, wow, where to go from here?
Back to seminary.
For those of you who know me IRL, seminary hasn't been the easiest of experiences. I feel like I started as a lump of clay that was being molded and shaped. A couple of cracks showed up during the journey, but I'm continued to be shaped and molded. And part of that shaping and molding is to be a leader in the church, God willing.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Why yes, I did preach on fornication and prostitution (otherwise known as what the heck was I thinking?!?!?!?!?)
Here's something a tad different. My internship site places the audio from sermons online, which means that the sermons I've preached are all online. Ack. The last sermon I preached was not on the Gospel text (which starts the audio file), but instead what I found to be a daunting text: 1 Corinthians 6:12-20.
And here you go: http://www.stpaul-lutheran.com/sermons/20120115.mp3
And here you go: http://www.stpaul-lutheran.com/sermons/20120115.mp3
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Mary, Mary, quite contrary, the Lord hath need of thee...
Sermon for the Fourth Sunday of Advent, Year B, December 18, 2011
Delivered at St. Paul Lutheran Church, Oakland, California (my internship site)
Shortly after I was baptized, my pastor told me that he thought I should go to seminary. I was pretty confused. I thought I didn’t need to go to seminary, I was just fine the way that I was. And I wrestled for a good long time with what my pastor told me. I actually gave him a few choice words after he said that, words that I won’t repeat for you here. But I was confused. I was upset, and I was definitely wondering where in the world did my pastor get that idea? I wondered, “How can this be?”
That’s one of the fascinating things about call stories in the Bible. There are numerous accounts of people who struggle with being tapped by God as favored, as chosen, who wonder aloud, “How can this be?” There’s an internal struggle, the self doubt, the lamenting of “Why me? Couldn’t God have picked anyone else, because this is a really big deal… Anyone who could be more qualified, more skilled, more adept, yet God picked… me?” Then there’s processing, discerning, and sometimes, acceptance.
Which leads me to today’s Gospel lesson. The Annunciation, otherwise known as part of Mary’s call story. God’s messenger, the angel Gabriel, came to Mary and gave her some interesting news. One of the reasons why I wanted to share the conversation between my pastor and me was because in reading today’s Gospel, I couldn’t help but wonder what was going through Mary’s head when Gabriel came to her. What were the thoughts running through her head when Gabriel told her that she was so highly favored as to bear the Son of God?
Perhaps it would be helpful to have some background information on Mary… We know her as the mother of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, but Mary was also an ordinary girl. A very human girl. She was probably a teenager, around 12 or 13 years old. Mary was from the equivalent of middle-of-nowhere Hicksville. Before Jesus’ birth and tourist buses, Nazareth was not a happening place; it was looked down upon as a lowly little village. To heighten more of Mary’s ordinary life, her family was probably poor and part of the peasant class… These characteristics make Mary an insignificant and unremarkable girl. She was just a plain ol’ poor girl from the backwaters of Nazareth.
In the Gospel, we’re clued into Mary having a very human reaction to Gabriel’s visit and message. Mary, who in her brief depictions in the Bible is shown as a great person of faith, also struggled with this announcement, with this call. She was perplexed and pondered Gabriel’s words. But these words, perplexed and pondered, may be too “delicate” for the situation. Instead of perplexed, how about the word disturbed? Or even agitated? She may not have verbalized them, but she may have had some choice words for Gabriel… wondering, why me? To quote Mary, “How can this be?”
Mary was also probably a good Jewish girl, knowing her Hebrew Bible. This meant Mary believed in the arrival of a Messiah. But can you imagine her surprise when the angel Gabriel told her that not only will she give birth to a child, but the child she will carry “will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. [Her son] will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” No pressure, right? Yet this insignificant teenaged girl from an insignificant town and from an insignificant family… is visited by Gabriel, the messenger of God, being told that she has an amazing call and that God has found favor with her? How can this be? Why a poor peasant girl from the middle of nowhere?
Well, why not?
The minute we think we know how God will act in the world, God will to something radically different, something counter-cultural, something world changing. God promised in 2 Samuel that God would establish a dynasty for the house of David and that David’s kingdom would be forever. Yet the people of Israel had a tumultuous, difficult history in the time between God’s promise to David and Gabriel’s visit to Mary. This long-expected Messiah would lead them out of the constant oppression the Jewish people endured for hundreds of years. And God keeps God’s promises… yet those promises are kept in unexpected and surprising ways. Can you imagine Mary’s surprise and shock when she’s told that she will give birth to the Messiah? And that the Messiah is not some great, strong, powerful military leader, but that the Messiah comes to us as a weak newborn, born in a filthy animal-filled stable? That God looks upon Mary with favor in the tangible and very alive life of a newborn baby?
God looks upon us with favor too, and in a very tangible way. What does it mean to have God look upon us with favor? In the waters of baptism, God looks upon us with favor. In the waters of baptism, we are born to a new life in Christ; a baptism service is filled with language of light, of new life, and of rebirth; all that we hope for in a post-Advent life. Baptismal services are filled with this hope with words such as:
“God, who is rich in mercy and love, gives us a new birth into a living hope.”
And words such as…
“By water and the Holy Spirit we are reborn children of God.”
And words such as…
“Let your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.”
These words lead us to the light of new birth. We could say it is a time in our lives that’s pregnant with possibilities when we’re set aside to be carriers of new life. The old sinful self falls away to a new life. And in this new life of being with Christ, we are set aside to be ministers, set aside to be favored by God. Our ministries may differ from person to person. It doesn’t have to be ordained or lay ministry. It is more how we are the light of Christ in the world to one another. Regardless, we are called into ministry; we are called into new birth in the waters of baptism. And God looks upon us with favor.
But then what? What does it mean for you to have God look at you with favor and be active in your life? How do you live your call in this world waiting for Christ to return? In this world that’s filled with brokenness, how do each and every one of us live out our call that God places on our hearts, especially at times that are particularly difficult? On days when we’re standing in the line at the DMV? On days when we step over a panhandler in order to get into the grocery store? On days when we’re feeling rushed to get everything done? On days where we’re not feeling favored? While we may not be told we’re going to give birth to the Son of God, how then in our call as ministers do we still be the presence of Christ in difficult moments? Moments when we’re angry, upset, and want to turn our backs and walk away from our call? How are we the presence of Christ, the bearers of Christ, especially if we’re wrestling in moments when we ask, “Really God? Really? How can this be?”
I think we have expectations of how God acts in the world. But when God acts, we can ponder, be perplexed, be terrified, and be amazed. We can especially feel these emotions when God comes to us, telling us God has found favor with us. We can sometimes feel this flood of emotions when we hear the words, “The Lord hath need of thee…” (to quote Pastor Ross when he needs someone to do something...) God is so active, that God became human, born of Mary, to live out a human experience. Living out that human experience to know our joys, our fears, our hopes, our despair, our experiences as called bearers of Christ. Jesus, born of the poor, unwed, teenaged Mary, shows how the humble are lifted, the world is turned upside down, and God comes to meet us in the most human, the most tangible way, coming to share our experience with us at our lowest places. God comes to us in the tangible waters of birth, of new and hopeful life to state that God has found favor with us and sets us apart to be ministers. God surpasses our expectations time and time again.
God found favor with Mary. God finds favor with us. How… in our flesh… in new birth… in waiting for the birth of Christ… will we respond as a minister in this time of waiting, watching, and hoping?
I leave you with the words of Lynn Ungar and part her poem, “Incarnation.”
I confess that I am caught
by the story of Christmas,
by the pronouncement of the Spirit
upon Mary’s plain flesh.
What right did the angel
have to come to her
with the news of that
unprovided, unimaginable
birth? What right
had God to take on flesh
so out of season?
The flesh has so few choices,
the angels, perhaps, none.
The trees will shake themselves
and wait for spring.
The angels, unbodied, will clutch
the night with their singing.
And Mary, like so many,
troubled and available,
will hear the word:
The power of the Most High
will overshadow you
And in her flesh, respond.
Delivered at St. Paul Lutheran Church, Oakland, California (my internship site)
Shortly after I was baptized, my pastor told me that he thought I should go to seminary. I was pretty confused. I thought I didn’t need to go to seminary, I was just fine the way that I was. And I wrestled for a good long time with what my pastor told me. I actually gave him a few choice words after he said that, words that I won’t repeat for you here. But I was confused. I was upset, and I was definitely wondering where in the world did my pastor get that idea? I wondered, “How can this be?”
That’s one of the fascinating things about call stories in the Bible. There are numerous accounts of people who struggle with being tapped by God as favored, as chosen, who wonder aloud, “How can this be?” There’s an internal struggle, the self doubt, the lamenting of “Why me? Couldn’t God have picked anyone else, because this is a really big deal… Anyone who could be more qualified, more skilled, more adept, yet God picked… me?” Then there’s processing, discerning, and sometimes, acceptance.
Which leads me to today’s Gospel lesson. The Annunciation, otherwise known as part of Mary’s call story. God’s messenger, the angel Gabriel, came to Mary and gave her some interesting news. One of the reasons why I wanted to share the conversation between my pastor and me was because in reading today’s Gospel, I couldn’t help but wonder what was going through Mary’s head when Gabriel came to her. What were the thoughts running through her head when Gabriel told her that she was so highly favored as to bear the Son of God?
Perhaps it would be helpful to have some background information on Mary… We know her as the mother of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, but Mary was also an ordinary girl. A very human girl. She was probably a teenager, around 12 or 13 years old. Mary was from the equivalent of middle-of-nowhere Hicksville. Before Jesus’ birth and tourist buses, Nazareth was not a happening place; it was looked down upon as a lowly little village. To heighten more of Mary’s ordinary life, her family was probably poor and part of the peasant class… These characteristics make Mary an insignificant and unremarkable girl. She was just a plain ol’ poor girl from the backwaters of Nazareth.
In the Gospel, we’re clued into Mary having a very human reaction to Gabriel’s visit and message. Mary, who in her brief depictions in the Bible is shown as a great person of faith, also struggled with this announcement, with this call. She was perplexed and pondered Gabriel’s words. But these words, perplexed and pondered, may be too “delicate” for the situation. Instead of perplexed, how about the word disturbed? Or even agitated? She may not have verbalized them, but she may have had some choice words for Gabriel… wondering, why me? To quote Mary, “How can this be?”
Mary was also probably a good Jewish girl, knowing her Hebrew Bible. This meant Mary believed in the arrival of a Messiah. But can you imagine her surprise when the angel Gabriel told her that not only will she give birth to a child, but the child she will carry “will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. [Her son] will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” No pressure, right? Yet this insignificant teenaged girl from an insignificant town and from an insignificant family… is visited by Gabriel, the messenger of God, being told that she has an amazing call and that God has found favor with her? How can this be? Why a poor peasant girl from the middle of nowhere?
Well, why not?
The minute we think we know how God will act in the world, God will to something radically different, something counter-cultural, something world changing. God promised in 2 Samuel that God would establish a dynasty for the house of David and that David’s kingdom would be forever. Yet the people of Israel had a tumultuous, difficult history in the time between God’s promise to David and Gabriel’s visit to Mary. This long-expected Messiah would lead them out of the constant oppression the Jewish people endured for hundreds of years. And God keeps God’s promises… yet those promises are kept in unexpected and surprising ways. Can you imagine Mary’s surprise and shock when she’s told that she will give birth to the Messiah? And that the Messiah is not some great, strong, powerful military leader, but that the Messiah comes to us as a weak newborn, born in a filthy animal-filled stable? That God looks upon Mary with favor in the tangible and very alive life of a newborn baby?
God looks upon us with favor too, and in a very tangible way. What does it mean to have God look upon us with favor? In the waters of baptism, God looks upon us with favor. In the waters of baptism, we are born to a new life in Christ; a baptism service is filled with language of light, of new life, and of rebirth; all that we hope for in a post-Advent life. Baptismal services are filled with this hope with words such as:
“God, who is rich in mercy and love, gives us a new birth into a living hope.”
And words such as…
“By water and the Holy Spirit we are reborn children of God.”
And words such as…
“Let your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.”
These words lead us to the light of new birth. We could say it is a time in our lives that’s pregnant with possibilities when we’re set aside to be carriers of new life. The old sinful self falls away to a new life. And in this new life of being with Christ, we are set aside to be ministers, set aside to be favored by God. Our ministries may differ from person to person. It doesn’t have to be ordained or lay ministry. It is more how we are the light of Christ in the world to one another. Regardless, we are called into ministry; we are called into new birth in the waters of baptism. And God looks upon us with favor.
But then what? What does it mean for you to have God look at you with favor and be active in your life? How do you live your call in this world waiting for Christ to return? In this world that’s filled with brokenness, how do each and every one of us live out our call that God places on our hearts, especially at times that are particularly difficult? On days when we’re standing in the line at the DMV? On days when we step over a panhandler in order to get into the grocery store? On days when we’re feeling rushed to get everything done? On days where we’re not feeling favored? While we may not be told we’re going to give birth to the Son of God, how then in our call as ministers do we still be the presence of Christ in difficult moments? Moments when we’re angry, upset, and want to turn our backs and walk away from our call? How are we the presence of Christ, the bearers of Christ, especially if we’re wrestling in moments when we ask, “Really God? Really? How can this be?”
I think we have expectations of how God acts in the world. But when God acts, we can ponder, be perplexed, be terrified, and be amazed. We can especially feel these emotions when God comes to us, telling us God has found favor with us. We can sometimes feel this flood of emotions when we hear the words, “The Lord hath need of thee…” (to quote Pastor Ross when he needs someone to do something...) God is so active, that God became human, born of Mary, to live out a human experience. Living out that human experience to know our joys, our fears, our hopes, our despair, our experiences as called bearers of Christ. Jesus, born of the poor, unwed, teenaged Mary, shows how the humble are lifted, the world is turned upside down, and God comes to meet us in the most human, the most tangible way, coming to share our experience with us at our lowest places. God comes to us in the tangible waters of birth, of new and hopeful life to state that God has found favor with us and sets us apart to be ministers. God surpasses our expectations time and time again.
God found favor with Mary. God finds favor with us. How… in our flesh… in new birth… in waiting for the birth of Christ… will we respond as a minister in this time of waiting, watching, and hoping?
I leave you with the words of Lynn Ungar and part her poem, “Incarnation.”
I confess that I am caught
by the story of Christmas,
by the pronouncement of the Spirit
upon Mary’s plain flesh.
What right did the angel
have to come to her
with the news of that
unprovided, unimaginable
birth? What right
had God to take on flesh
so out of season?
The flesh has so few choices,
the angels, perhaps, none.
The trees will shake themselves
and wait for spring.
The angels, unbodied, will clutch
the night with their singing.
And Mary, like so many,
troubled and available,
will hear the word:
The power of the Most High
will overshadow you
And in her flesh, respond.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Sermon for Second Sunday of Advent
Sermon for the Second Sunday of Advent, Year B, December 4, 2011
Delivered at St. Paul Lutheran Church, Oakland, California (my internship site)
My husband, Karl, and I were riding our bikes out in rural Ireland in 2004 for our honeymoon. We were going to undertake a pretty big trip by cycling up part of the western coast of Ireland. If you could have seen us on that first day; we were just giddy with excitement. We were going to start our lives together just being with each other, riding our bicycles in the idyllic Irish countryside. Never mind we’d only been married a week and a half, but marriage (and life, for that matter) is an adventure, right? Unfortunately, the first day of our bicycling adventure, after all the giddiness and excitement, did not go over so well. We both had a map that was highlighted for us by a local, but for some reason, the road we were on was not quite lining up with our map. We were supposed to turn onto another road, but the road that was on our map was nowhere to be seen. We were pedaling up and down this road, looking for this new road to materialize so we could get to our destination. But that road never showed itself.
We were lost. We were very, very lost.
We weren’t just lost anywhere. We were lost in an entirely different country, in the Irish countryside. Nothing but green fields, baa-ing sheep, and an occasional moo-ing cow. Sure, we could speak English, we had that much going for us, but that’s really not helpful when there’s not a whole lot of civilization around… we couldn’t just stop by a shop or someone’s house to ask for directions... We were in a place we had never visited before, so we didn’t have any familiar landmarks to help us get to where we were going. We didn’t know anyone. We didn’t have a cell phone with us. These were they days before affordable fancy GPS systems. All we had was a map. Karl and I were frustrated that we didn’t know where we were, and to top it all off, we were frustrated that we didn’t know quite where we were going. In our first week of marriage, this wasn’t exactly the best place to be, both physically and metaphorically. We were frustrated with our situation, but we tried really, really hard not to be frustrated with one another. We were out in the wilderness, alone and scared and wondering if we’d ever find our way out of the Irish countryside.
We did find our way back; otherwise Karl and I wouldn’t be in church today. But wandering out in the wilderness, being alone and scared, made me think of the prophet Isaiah’s words in this week’s lesson. This passage from Isaiah was written during a crazy time in Israel’s history. Israel had repeatedly turned away from their God; the prophets were trying to warn the people to turn from their selfish ways and turn back to God. The prophets stated that if the Israelites didn’t turn back to God, something bad was going to happen. That something bad was the Babylonians. The Babylonians not only conquered Jerusalem; they destroyed it. The Babylonians then carted the Israelites away from their home, marching them to Babylon. The Israelites were whisked away from a land that they loved and knew as home. The Israelites were in an awful wilderness in a foreign country being held against their will in a place they knew nothing about, in a land that wasn’t theirs. They turned away from God, and they found themselves out in the wilderness.
There’s something scary about being in the wilderness. There’s the physical wilderness, the middle of nowhere places that seem empty, desolate, and lacking life. Then there’s the theoretical wilderness in our spiritual, emotional, and psychological existence… times when we’re alone, destitute, feeling like we’ve royally screwed everything up and there’s nothing that can be done. The internal wilderness of despondency, isolation, and wondering, where, oh where, is God in the midst of all this mess? Have you been in a wilderness of doubt, of fear, or of anger wondering, “where in the heck is God in the midst of all this mess?”
God, it seems, is in the wilderness. But here’s another question: WHY is God out in the wilderness? The reading from Isaiah and the Gospel are filled with wilderness talk, and God is out in the midst of that middle-of-nowhere place.
Why the wilderness? I mean, even Judas questions the placement of proclamation in the wilderness in “Jesus Christ Superstar” when he asks Jesus, “Why'd you choose such a backwards time in such a strange land? If you'd come today you would've reached a whole nation! Israel in 4 B.C. had no mass communication…”
In the midst of being in an unknown, unfamiliar, and scary wilderness, God came to the Israelites with words of comfort. God comes to meet them many times in the wilderness… There’s the Exodus, when the Israelites are fleeing Egypt. God definitely clears a path for the Israelites out of Egypt in the dramatic parting of the Red Sea. Even in the midst of their complaining, God travels with the Israelites to the Promised Land. The Israelites turned away from God and did not heed the warnings of the prophets. The Israelites turned away from God, then were carted off to Babylonia, with Jerusalem in ruins. Yet God clears a way AGAIN for the Israelites to return to their land when they’re carted off to Babylon. Yes, the Israelites may have turned away from their God before the Babylonian exile, but GOD DID NOT ABANDON THEM EVEN THOUGH THEY SCREWED UP. God clears a way out of the wilderness for them. There’s something interesting about Isaiah’s words and the words of the Gospel… God is found in the most unexpected of places; God’s out in the wilderness. And even if God’s people have royally screwed up, God clears a way home for them.
The voice that cries out, proclaims, is God announcing the good news. We may think God’s out in the middle of nowhere. But when we think we know God, God has this nifty way of surprising God’s people time and time again. God being out in the wilderness can be thought of as weird and confusing. Sure, it seems backward and strange, lacking mass communication… But God is in the wilderness, experiencing the wilderness of human life with us. The Incarnation. This is what we’re waiting for in this Advent season; we’re waiting for God to come be with us. The amazing thing about God is that God is present in our past, in our present, and in our future. God reaching out to us in this amazing, crazy-loving way. God becoming human, to know of our lived experiences. The good, the bad, the clean, the outright messy. The Incarnation puts Christ in the middle of all of that, The feelings of anguish, of isolation, of our personal wilderness? Christ was there. Out being tempted in the wilderness. Feeling emotions of joy, anger, gladness, sorrow. And the cross. God being in the most unexpected of places, the worst kind of anguish up on that cross.
God knows our wilderness. God’s not just some entity out there, but God, CHRIST, knows our wilderness experiences because God’s been there too. And even in the middle of our wildernesses, we may have done something wrong. We may have turned away from God.
This is a time, even if we’ve committed sins, if we’ve done things we’re not proud of, that even in our broken humanness, valleys are lifted, mountains are made low, the ground becomes level, and the rough places are smoothed out. In stating, “The Good News of Jesus Christ, the Son of God” we’re told, “Look, here’s God!” With us, among us, knowing us and our experiences! Frank Honeycutt, a pastor in South Carolina, said, “God is building a highway home for people who have screwed up their lives.” And we’ve all screwed up somewhere along the way. But God’s good news welcomes those who’ve been lost along the way. Isaiah writes that all earthly things will pass; especially with the changing of seasons, we’ve seen grass wither, flowers fade… but God’s word? God’s word is the word incarnate, Jesus Christ, who comes to be with us. To forgive us our sins. To lead us back to God. To lead us back home. It’s an announcement to people who have screwed up along the way that God welcomes each and every one of us home.
Come home.
Delivered at St. Paul Lutheran Church, Oakland, California (my internship site)
My husband, Karl, and I were riding our bikes out in rural Ireland in 2004 for our honeymoon. We were going to undertake a pretty big trip by cycling up part of the western coast of Ireland. If you could have seen us on that first day; we were just giddy with excitement. We were going to start our lives together just being with each other, riding our bicycles in the idyllic Irish countryside. Never mind we’d only been married a week and a half, but marriage (and life, for that matter) is an adventure, right? Unfortunately, the first day of our bicycling adventure, after all the giddiness and excitement, did not go over so well. We both had a map that was highlighted for us by a local, but for some reason, the road we were on was not quite lining up with our map. We were supposed to turn onto another road, but the road that was on our map was nowhere to be seen. We were pedaling up and down this road, looking for this new road to materialize so we could get to our destination. But that road never showed itself.
We were lost. We were very, very lost.
We weren’t just lost anywhere. We were lost in an entirely different country, in the Irish countryside. Nothing but green fields, baa-ing sheep, and an occasional moo-ing cow. Sure, we could speak English, we had that much going for us, but that’s really not helpful when there’s not a whole lot of civilization around… we couldn’t just stop by a shop or someone’s house to ask for directions... We were in a place we had never visited before, so we didn’t have any familiar landmarks to help us get to where we were going. We didn’t know anyone. We didn’t have a cell phone with us. These were they days before affordable fancy GPS systems. All we had was a map. Karl and I were frustrated that we didn’t know where we were, and to top it all off, we were frustrated that we didn’t know quite where we were going. In our first week of marriage, this wasn’t exactly the best place to be, both physically and metaphorically. We were frustrated with our situation, but we tried really, really hard not to be frustrated with one another. We were out in the wilderness, alone and scared and wondering if we’d ever find our way out of the Irish countryside.
We did find our way back; otherwise Karl and I wouldn’t be in church today. But wandering out in the wilderness, being alone and scared, made me think of the prophet Isaiah’s words in this week’s lesson. This passage from Isaiah was written during a crazy time in Israel’s history. Israel had repeatedly turned away from their God; the prophets were trying to warn the people to turn from their selfish ways and turn back to God. The prophets stated that if the Israelites didn’t turn back to God, something bad was going to happen. That something bad was the Babylonians. The Babylonians not only conquered Jerusalem; they destroyed it. The Babylonians then carted the Israelites away from their home, marching them to Babylon. The Israelites were whisked away from a land that they loved and knew as home. The Israelites were in an awful wilderness in a foreign country being held against their will in a place they knew nothing about, in a land that wasn’t theirs. They turned away from God, and they found themselves out in the wilderness.
There’s something scary about being in the wilderness. There’s the physical wilderness, the middle of nowhere places that seem empty, desolate, and lacking life. Then there’s the theoretical wilderness in our spiritual, emotional, and psychological existence… times when we’re alone, destitute, feeling like we’ve royally screwed everything up and there’s nothing that can be done. The internal wilderness of despondency, isolation, and wondering, where, oh where, is God in the midst of all this mess? Have you been in a wilderness of doubt, of fear, or of anger wondering, “where in the heck is God in the midst of all this mess?”
God, it seems, is in the wilderness. But here’s another question: WHY is God out in the wilderness? The reading from Isaiah and the Gospel are filled with wilderness talk, and God is out in the midst of that middle-of-nowhere place.
Why the wilderness? I mean, even Judas questions the placement of proclamation in the wilderness in “Jesus Christ Superstar” when he asks Jesus, “Why'd you choose such a backwards time in such a strange land? If you'd come today you would've reached a whole nation! Israel in 4 B.C. had no mass communication…”
In the midst of being in an unknown, unfamiliar, and scary wilderness, God came to the Israelites with words of comfort. God comes to meet them many times in the wilderness… There’s the Exodus, when the Israelites are fleeing Egypt. God definitely clears a path for the Israelites out of Egypt in the dramatic parting of the Red Sea. Even in the midst of their complaining, God travels with the Israelites to the Promised Land. The Israelites turned away from God and did not heed the warnings of the prophets. The Israelites turned away from God, then were carted off to Babylonia, with Jerusalem in ruins. Yet God clears a way AGAIN for the Israelites to return to their land when they’re carted off to Babylon. Yes, the Israelites may have turned away from their God before the Babylonian exile, but GOD DID NOT ABANDON THEM EVEN THOUGH THEY SCREWED UP. God clears a way out of the wilderness for them. There’s something interesting about Isaiah’s words and the words of the Gospel… God is found in the most unexpected of places; God’s out in the wilderness. And even if God’s people have royally screwed up, God clears a way home for them.
The voice that cries out, proclaims, is God announcing the good news. We may think God’s out in the middle of nowhere. But when we think we know God, God has this nifty way of surprising God’s people time and time again. God being out in the wilderness can be thought of as weird and confusing. Sure, it seems backward and strange, lacking mass communication… But God is in the wilderness, experiencing the wilderness of human life with us. The Incarnation. This is what we’re waiting for in this Advent season; we’re waiting for God to come be with us. The amazing thing about God is that God is present in our past, in our present, and in our future. God reaching out to us in this amazing, crazy-loving way. God becoming human, to know of our lived experiences. The good, the bad, the clean, the outright messy. The Incarnation puts Christ in the middle of all of that, The feelings of anguish, of isolation, of our personal wilderness? Christ was there. Out being tempted in the wilderness. Feeling emotions of joy, anger, gladness, sorrow. And the cross. God being in the most unexpected of places, the worst kind of anguish up on that cross.
God knows our wilderness. God’s not just some entity out there, but God, CHRIST, knows our wilderness experiences because God’s been there too. And even in the middle of our wildernesses, we may have done something wrong. We may have turned away from God.
This is a time, even if we’ve committed sins, if we’ve done things we’re not proud of, that even in our broken humanness, valleys are lifted, mountains are made low, the ground becomes level, and the rough places are smoothed out. In stating, “The Good News of Jesus Christ, the Son of God” we’re told, “Look, here’s God!” With us, among us, knowing us and our experiences! Frank Honeycutt, a pastor in South Carolina, said, “God is building a highway home for people who have screwed up their lives.” And we’ve all screwed up somewhere along the way. But God’s good news welcomes those who’ve been lost along the way. Isaiah writes that all earthly things will pass; especially with the changing of seasons, we’ve seen grass wither, flowers fade… but God’s word? God’s word is the word incarnate, Jesus Christ, who comes to be with us. To forgive us our sins. To lead us back to God. To lead us back home. It’s an announcement to people who have screwed up along the way that God welcomes each and every one of us home.
Come home.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
A final reflection from my fellowship project.
I feel like I’ve started a lot of papers concerning Lutheran identity and how I have encountered my theological identity with the phrase, “The Evangelical Lutheran Church of America (ELCA) acknowledges that they struggle to be a diverse mainline Protestant denomination within the United States.” That struggle has become part of my faith formation and part of a personal challenge for me as well. Part of that struggle is having a sense of being “the other” within my denomination, which has contributed to a limited experience of being a member of the body of Christ. Part of that limited experience comes in naming the demon of racism. Racism, I found, was not a random occurrence, but institutional and systemic.
Throughout the discernment process, I was not only struggling to find my identity as a pastor and church leader, but also struggling to find my identity as a minority member of the ELCA, remembering that within the demographic makeup of the denomination, I represent less than 0.5% of the population within the ELCA. As such a small percentage of the ethnic makeup of the ELCA, I constantly wondered what would it mean to embody pastoral leadership? Were there others within pastoral and lay leadership that were willing to share their stories and experiences with me? Within part of my field study and academic coursework, I was very taken with testimonies and an exercise called “talk story.” It was through the means of testimony and “talk story” that the experiences of people deemed as “the other” had a very human face. Sharing stories and sharing experiences could be used as tools to create a community. With the opportunity to hear marginalized voices, I wanted to figure out ways to not only hear additional voices, but also find ways for voices to be heard throughout the denomination. With these testimonies, I wanted to think of ways to turn painful experiences into something constructive and life giving. Sharing stories is important for the church’s mission, partly to realize that we have different and rich experiences to share in our faith tradition, but also to recognize that individuals are created as special and unique beings that have unique experiences within a life of faith. Part of evangelization is through the sharing of testimony and personal stories of faith and experience. Within my discernment circle, I talked about a desire to interview Asian American pastors and lay leaders within the ELCA. It was important that the interviews take place face-to-face, as so much of a story and personality can be shared when being in the presence of a storyteller. I realized that I need to look speak with ordained and lay leaders who have had parallel experiences, sharing experience and talking to one another about those lived, embodied experiences. I had a desire to hear different stories, but to also wondering if sharing such stories would normalize my experience by getting to share my story within a community.
Part of the adventure of this project was finding interview subjects. I ended up taking a “snowball sample” of sorts. I would speak to one person, who would then refer me to more people. One of the successes of my project was the opportunity to network with Asian and Asian American pastors and lay leaders within the ELCA. Since I was lacking an ethnic community with which I could relate, this project provided me the valuable opportunity to speak to pastors and lay leaders and share our experiences with one another. There was the opportunity to find new to me brothers and sisters in Christ. Some of these new brothers and sisters in Christ shared similar experiences of confusion and otherness within the denomination. In sharing stories with one another, there was a common thread in conversations in thankfulness of meeting one another and having the opportunity to share stories with one another, face-to-face, and Incarnational, as opposed to reading words off a page or computer screen. Snowball sampling was also a weakness to the project. While it was adventurous to travel around the country speaking to new people, throughout the course of the project I heard about more people that I could have interviewed. While the project itself is over, I am still contacting people from the snowball sample.
I had personal expectations of interviewing people every day while visiting a new city. I prepared six questions used in every interview. Some of the questions were tailored depending on interviewing a pastor or a lay leader, but overall, the questions were very similar. I was surprised that many of the interviews were quite lengthy, some taking place over the course of many hours. I thought I could be mechanical in interviewing pastors and lay leaders. Initially, I was disappointed that I didn’t have interviews lined up every day, but I didn’t realize how I became emotionally invested in each interview. In retrospect, I am now glad I didn’t have interviews scheduled for every single day traveling. With some time off in each city I visited, I had time to process the interviews and if necessary, debrief with close confidants.
What did not work well in the project was part of my ingrained cultural conditioning. In speaking with older Asian and Asian American pastors, there was a sort of awkwardness with age and gender roles. Many interviews felt like a parent giving a child advice, and that as a dutiful and respectful child, I needed to follow through on such advice. I also wonder if my personal cultural issues contributed to me holding back on some of the interviews and asking more questions about the advice I received from the older male pastors.
Trying to edit a film in time to hopefully present something to the fellow’s retreat was also a mistake. I have around thirty hours of video for the interviews, as well as two hours of only audio recordings. With limited knowledge of film editing and software, this was a huge mistake. When I completed all of the interviews and returned home, I was overwhelmed with sifting through all of the video and audio to find a way to create a coherent short film. Since I only gave myself two weeks between the end of the interviews and the start of the fellow’s retreat, I realized in the midst of those two weeks that I would not be able to complete a short and coherent film in that amount of time. I’m still going through the video interviews, though, so I can have something to show my synodical office for next year.
Another aspect of the project that did not work for me was expanding the scope of my project. I went outside the scope of my revised proposal and visited three ELCA seminaries to talk about diversity education and how that was included in a seminary’s pedagogy. Since I was visiting three cities that were home to an ELCA seminary, I thought it would be a good opportunity to explore if and how diversity was being included in a seminary education. One of the three visits was successful. My time at Lutheran School of Theology Philadelphia was very valuable, but it was not necessary for me to visit Luther School of Theology Chicago and Luther Seminary in St. Paul, Minnesota. I had hopes that other ELCA seminaries were including diversity within their pedagogy in different ways, but I was not adequately prepared to ask the right questions when making these visits.
Initially, I felt that I was adequate in networking in a new community. When starting seminary, I did not know of the existence of the Asian American Pacific Islander (AAPI) Ministry within the ELCA’s Office of Multicultural Ministries. This project gave me the opportunity to meet many pastors and lay leaders involved with AAPI. When I initially started my seminary education, I was lonely and felt like a misfit toy on the island of misfit toys. I was no longer in solitary with my thoughts of being an Asian American woman seeking ordination and how that seemed to be an outlier of sorts within the ELCA.
I can share the conversations I had with AAPI pastors and lay leaders with my fellow seminarians, and hopefully with more people within the ELCA and other mainline Protestant churches. Through my seminary coursework, I have been repeatedly exposed to the dominant western European narrative of the Lutheran church and the European Lutheran migration to the United States. Part of my project was to explore my personal narrative and the narrative of Asians and Asian Americans within the ELCA. In getting to hear the stories of other Asians and Asian Americans, I was discovering new and unheard narratives within the church. I heard a dominant voice and a dominant story, but I was coming into conflict with some parts of the dominant narrative. I wanted to listen to voices that were within an underlying narrative. Part of me was seeking out people to tell their versions of their faith formation and faith journey. I was seeking a story that was maybe parallel to my own, but also a voice that was lying underneath the dominant narrative.
Much of the story telling and building community will continue past the life of this particular project. In the adventure of “snowball sampling,” I continue to hear about more conversation partners and storytellers. Even after presenting at the fellow’s retreat, I continue to meet with Asian and Asian American pastors and lay leaders to talk about lived experiences in ministry. I am continuing to meet with contacts and references in the San Francisco area because the process of community building and sharing stories will continue past my proposed FTE project.
Another continuation of the project is to nurture the relationships I’ve made throughout my summer travels. Part of continuing relationships will occur at the American Academy of Religion/ Society of Biblical Literature annual meeting in San Francisco this year. This will be the first year the Asian Theological Summer Institute will host a reunion. I will be able to attend this reunion and grow relationships with professors and doctoral students I met at the conference, as well as meet with previous institute alumni.
One of the consequences of my project involves a form of truth telling. While the ELCA struggles to be a diverse church body, there have been various actions of attempting to be a welcoming community. The ELCA will not name the demon of racism, yet still struggles with being a predominantly Caucasian church. Many within the ELCA do not want to talk about racism because it is an uncomfortable subject that reveals incredibly unfair power dynamics. While conversations about racism are incredibly uneasy and uncomfortable, avoiding such conversations is avoiding a root problem that prevents a church becoming a welcoming and diverse representation of the body of Christ.
One of the themes prevalent within my project that greatly impacted me was the use of voice. Using one’s voice to communicate love, pain, gratitude, and injustice can be a powerful act. One of my struggles was the actual use of my voice; part of my apprehension of using my voice came from cultural conditioning. In joining the church, I thought if I simply stayed quiet, problems would disappear. In seminary, I came to the realization that while using my voice was initially scary, voice was needed to talk about issues and ideas that were lying beneath the dominant narrative. I continue to form and reform my personal voice, and I wanted to explore my personal narrative within a greater denominational narrative. Mental models that greatly struck me were listening to as may voices as possible; the use of voice can be empowering, and if multiple voices come together, there is an incredible amount of strength that can come in delivering a message.
This project has been a transformational exercise for me. I joined the church with a certain naïveté; that naïveté transformed to something different when I entered seminary and was exposed to the institutional racism within the seminary and the systemic racism within the denomination. I remember reading Hauerwas’ Resident Aliens, calling the church to be counter-cultural against a secular culture; I started to compare the insular culture of the ELCA, and that such a culture conflicted with my definition of community, encompassing the diversity of imago dei found in the world. With this project, Hauerwas’s words became an Incarnational reality as there is a need to move from “church culture” in an insular guarded sense to a greater “Church Culture” to be representative of the diversity of the body of Christ.
I still truly believe the entire church, not just the ELCA, is called to evangelize and share the Gospel. The ELCA must re-examine being the “Evangelical” Lutheran Church of America if it is to be a diverse church body representative of the diversity found in the world. In questioning the issues of racism and my personal struggle with identity, I believe much truth-telling needs to take place within the denomination. Truth telling is a relational process. I believe that there is a need to honestly speak about contextual definitions. There is a need to openly and honestly talk about racism, but with the realization that such conversations need to happen in love. While I am still uneasy with conversations about racism, I am called to speak truth to the matter, but also to be in conversation with members of my denomination. speaking truth when it’s uncomfortable, awkward, and challenging the status quo is a drastic action. What does it mean for the denomination to talk about the face of God’s church? What happens when the face of God’s church bumps up against my notions and the notions of others concerning the face of the church? Are we listening to the petition in the Lord’s Prayer of “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven?”
Truth telling comes with continued sharing of experiences and story telling with one another. In telling stories of personal experiences, there is an opportunity to build community. With the story telling process comes the exposure of new narratives. In sharing our experiences in an embodied way, there is the potential to further discover and discuss the story of the church and the world. God’s work is that we are all the body of Christ.
Throughout the discernment process, I was not only struggling to find my identity as a pastor and church leader, but also struggling to find my identity as a minority member of the ELCA, remembering that within the demographic makeup of the denomination, I represent less than 0.5% of the population within the ELCA. As such a small percentage of the ethnic makeup of the ELCA, I constantly wondered what would it mean to embody pastoral leadership? Were there others within pastoral and lay leadership that were willing to share their stories and experiences with me? Within part of my field study and academic coursework, I was very taken with testimonies and an exercise called “talk story.” It was through the means of testimony and “talk story” that the experiences of people deemed as “the other” had a very human face. Sharing stories and sharing experiences could be used as tools to create a community. With the opportunity to hear marginalized voices, I wanted to figure out ways to not only hear additional voices, but also find ways for voices to be heard throughout the denomination. With these testimonies, I wanted to think of ways to turn painful experiences into something constructive and life giving. Sharing stories is important for the church’s mission, partly to realize that we have different and rich experiences to share in our faith tradition, but also to recognize that individuals are created as special and unique beings that have unique experiences within a life of faith. Part of evangelization is through the sharing of testimony and personal stories of faith and experience. Within my discernment circle, I talked about a desire to interview Asian American pastors and lay leaders within the ELCA. It was important that the interviews take place face-to-face, as so much of a story and personality can be shared when being in the presence of a storyteller. I realized that I need to look speak with ordained and lay leaders who have had parallel experiences, sharing experience and talking to one another about those lived, embodied experiences. I had a desire to hear different stories, but to also wondering if sharing such stories would normalize my experience by getting to share my story within a community.
Part of the adventure of this project was finding interview subjects. I ended up taking a “snowball sample” of sorts. I would speak to one person, who would then refer me to more people. One of the successes of my project was the opportunity to network with Asian and Asian American pastors and lay leaders within the ELCA. Since I was lacking an ethnic community with which I could relate, this project provided me the valuable opportunity to speak to pastors and lay leaders and share our experiences with one another. There was the opportunity to find new to me brothers and sisters in Christ. Some of these new brothers and sisters in Christ shared similar experiences of confusion and otherness within the denomination. In sharing stories with one another, there was a common thread in conversations in thankfulness of meeting one another and having the opportunity to share stories with one another, face-to-face, and Incarnational, as opposed to reading words off a page or computer screen. Snowball sampling was also a weakness to the project. While it was adventurous to travel around the country speaking to new people, throughout the course of the project I heard about more people that I could have interviewed. While the project itself is over, I am still contacting people from the snowball sample.
I had personal expectations of interviewing people every day while visiting a new city. I prepared six questions used in every interview. Some of the questions were tailored depending on interviewing a pastor or a lay leader, but overall, the questions were very similar. I was surprised that many of the interviews were quite lengthy, some taking place over the course of many hours. I thought I could be mechanical in interviewing pastors and lay leaders. Initially, I was disappointed that I didn’t have interviews lined up every day, but I didn’t realize how I became emotionally invested in each interview. In retrospect, I am now glad I didn’t have interviews scheduled for every single day traveling. With some time off in each city I visited, I had time to process the interviews and if necessary, debrief with close confidants.
What did not work well in the project was part of my ingrained cultural conditioning. In speaking with older Asian and Asian American pastors, there was a sort of awkwardness with age and gender roles. Many interviews felt like a parent giving a child advice, and that as a dutiful and respectful child, I needed to follow through on such advice. I also wonder if my personal cultural issues contributed to me holding back on some of the interviews and asking more questions about the advice I received from the older male pastors.
Trying to edit a film in time to hopefully present something to the fellow’s retreat was also a mistake. I have around thirty hours of video for the interviews, as well as two hours of only audio recordings. With limited knowledge of film editing and software, this was a huge mistake. When I completed all of the interviews and returned home, I was overwhelmed with sifting through all of the video and audio to find a way to create a coherent short film. Since I only gave myself two weeks between the end of the interviews and the start of the fellow’s retreat, I realized in the midst of those two weeks that I would not be able to complete a short and coherent film in that amount of time. I’m still going through the video interviews, though, so I can have something to show my synodical office for next year.
Another aspect of the project that did not work for me was expanding the scope of my project. I went outside the scope of my revised proposal and visited three ELCA seminaries to talk about diversity education and how that was included in a seminary’s pedagogy. Since I was visiting three cities that were home to an ELCA seminary, I thought it would be a good opportunity to explore if and how diversity was being included in a seminary education. One of the three visits was successful. My time at Lutheran School of Theology Philadelphia was very valuable, but it was not necessary for me to visit Luther School of Theology Chicago and Luther Seminary in St. Paul, Minnesota. I had hopes that other ELCA seminaries were including diversity within their pedagogy in different ways, but I was not adequately prepared to ask the right questions when making these visits.
Initially, I felt that I was adequate in networking in a new community. When starting seminary, I did not know of the existence of the Asian American Pacific Islander (AAPI) Ministry within the ELCA’s Office of Multicultural Ministries. This project gave me the opportunity to meet many pastors and lay leaders involved with AAPI. When I initially started my seminary education, I was lonely and felt like a misfit toy on the island of misfit toys. I was no longer in solitary with my thoughts of being an Asian American woman seeking ordination and how that seemed to be an outlier of sorts within the ELCA.
I can share the conversations I had with AAPI pastors and lay leaders with my fellow seminarians, and hopefully with more people within the ELCA and other mainline Protestant churches. Through my seminary coursework, I have been repeatedly exposed to the dominant western European narrative of the Lutheran church and the European Lutheran migration to the United States. Part of my project was to explore my personal narrative and the narrative of Asians and Asian Americans within the ELCA. In getting to hear the stories of other Asians and Asian Americans, I was discovering new and unheard narratives within the church. I heard a dominant voice and a dominant story, but I was coming into conflict with some parts of the dominant narrative. I wanted to listen to voices that were within an underlying narrative. Part of me was seeking out people to tell their versions of their faith formation and faith journey. I was seeking a story that was maybe parallel to my own, but also a voice that was lying underneath the dominant narrative.
Much of the story telling and building community will continue past the life of this particular project. In the adventure of “snowball sampling,” I continue to hear about more conversation partners and storytellers. Even after presenting at the fellow’s retreat, I continue to meet with Asian and Asian American pastors and lay leaders to talk about lived experiences in ministry. I am continuing to meet with contacts and references in the San Francisco area because the process of community building and sharing stories will continue past my proposed FTE project.
Another continuation of the project is to nurture the relationships I’ve made throughout my summer travels. Part of continuing relationships will occur at the American Academy of Religion/ Society of Biblical Literature annual meeting in San Francisco this year. This will be the first year the Asian Theological Summer Institute will host a reunion. I will be able to attend this reunion and grow relationships with professors and doctoral students I met at the conference, as well as meet with previous institute alumni.
One of the consequences of my project involves a form of truth telling. While the ELCA struggles to be a diverse church body, there have been various actions of attempting to be a welcoming community. The ELCA will not name the demon of racism, yet still struggles with being a predominantly Caucasian church. Many within the ELCA do not want to talk about racism because it is an uncomfortable subject that reveals incredibly unfair power dynamics. While conversations about racism are incredibly uneasy and uncomfortable, avoiding such conversations is avoiding a root problem that prevents a church becoming a welcoming and diverse representation of the body of Christ.
One of the themes prevalent within my project that greatly impacted me was the use of voice. Using one’s voice to communicate love, pain, gratitude, and injustice can be a powerful act. One of my struggles was the actual use of my voice; part of my apprehension of using my voice came from cultural conditioning. In joining the church, I thought if I simply stayed quiet, problems would disappear. In seminary, I came to the realization that while using my voice was initially scary, voice was needed to talk about issues and ideas that were lying beneath the dominant narrative. I continue to form and reform my personal voice, and I wanted to explore my personal narrative within a greater denominational narrative. Mental models that greatly struck me were listening to as may voices as possible; the use of voice can be empowering, and if multiple voices come together, there is an incredible amount of strength that can come in delivering a message.
This project has been a transformational exercise for me. I joined the church with a certain naïveté; that naïveté transformed to something different when I entered seminary and was exposed to the institutional racism within the seminary and the systemic racism within the denomination. I remember reading Hauerwas’ Resident Aliens, calling the church to be counter-cultural against a secular culture; I started to compare the insular culture of the ELCA, and that such a culture conflicted with my definition of community, encompassing the diversity of imago dei found in the world. With this project, Hauerwas’s words became an Incarnational reality as there is a need to move from “church culture” in an insular guarded sense to a greater “Church Culture” to be representative of the diversity of the body of Christ.
I still truly believe the entire church, not just the ELCA, is called to evangelize and share the Gospel. The ELCA must re-examine being the “Evangelical” Lutheran Church of America if it is to be a diverse church body representative of the diversity found in the world. In questioning the issues of racism and my personal struggle with identity, I believe much truth-telling needs to take place within the denomination. Truth telling is a relational process. I believe that there is a need to honestly speak about contextual definitions. There is a need to openly and honestly talk about racism, but with the realization that such conversations need to happen in love. While I am still uneasy with conversations about racism, I am called to speak truth to the matter, but also to be in conversation with members of my denomination. speaking truth when it’s uncomfortable, awkward, and challenging the status quo is a drastic action. What does it mean for the denomination to talk about the face of God’s church? What happens when the face of God’s church bumps up against my notions and the notions of others concerning the face of the church? Are we listening to the petition in the Lord’s Prayer of “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven?”
Truth telling comes with continued sharing of experiences and story telling with one another. In telling stories of personal experiences, there is an opportunity to build community. With the story telling process comes the exposure of new narratives. In sharing our experiences in an embodied way, there is the potential to further discover and discuss the story of the church and the world. God’s work is that we are all the body of Christ.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)