Being Left Behind

"I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser. He will remove every branch in me that does not produce fruit, but whatever produces fruit he will purify, to make its fruit abundant...Stay in me and I in you."

~ John 15:2-4 

It can be heartbreaking to see things change. It can feel like someone has crushed your spirit when people decide to leave.  This is especially so when they do it in a way that leaves the left behind questioning.  How people choose to leave says a lot about their maturity, both spiritual and emotional.  This is especially true in the body of Christ, the Church. When we follow Jesus we are called to embody him, to manifest him and when Jesus left he talked it out.  He was clear and plain spoken about his intentions.  (John 14) 

Some of the most beautiful moments in my ministry have been in those desperately hard conversations about whether to stay or go. When we are attentive to the difficult path that calls us to value one another and to share in transparency, G-d is present and the pain somehow lessens. But we're human.  We get mad. We don't get our way. We throw temper tantrums and we stomp out or we leave quietly, exiting through the back door hoping no one will notice we have departed.  We avoid phone calls. We dodge the questions 'where are you?' 'are you ok?' We pretend like we're sick or that we've just been busy.  Very few of us stay to talk it out. Very few of us seek to adjust or lay our wants down.  Most of us want it our way and many of us use G-d as a scapegoat.  "G-d, told me to leave." As if G-d tosses and turns, here one day, gone the next.  

G-d created us for community.  G-d created us for one another. Sometimes we break that or forget that. Sometimes we run, instead of work it out.  Sometimes we place ourselves above the Kingdom or above the community.  However, the community is sacred - a holy expression of the body of Christ.  It's sacred enough that we should lay ourselves down for it. 

When people leave, no matter the terms, our hearts grieve and we're tempted to let fear set in. We're tempted to chase or to change to make them come back.  It's like a vine having a branch cut off. If we could ask the vine, she would say it hurts. It hurts for the branch that has been cut as well. But with time the wound heals, the roots grow stronger and a new abundant fruit is produced on what remains.  

So let's re-sign, re-imagine what it means to be left behind. When we are left behind, let's look up and anticipate the fruit that's coming.  Let's position ourselves for what G-d can do when we submit to the work of the vinedresser.  Being left behind is not a bad thing. It is a G-d thing! Those left behind get the opportunity to do greater things!

Midnight ramblings

"Know therefore that the Lord your G-d is G-d; he is the faithful G-d,keeping his covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love him and keep his commandments."

~ Deuteronomy 7:9 

Over and over I fail myself

Over and over I fail G-d

Again and again He never fails me

Again and again He reaches down into my soul

He lifts me to His mountain tops.  

Again and again 

His covenant proves true

Unconditional love

Love that speaks to the heart

Love that heals the wounds of the past 

Love that reminds me I am alive 

I am not dead 

I am not dead

I hold His life 

I hold His love

I hold His very breath

Even when I fail 

when His laws escape me

even when it seems I have not loved him

He restores my soul

He calls my name

He speaks His love

When I fail, He re-signs

When I waiver from the path

He redeems the course 

His grace is bigger 

I know it to be true.  

For a thousand generations

He lives His covenant of love...

He lives it in me

City of Refuge

The Bible speaks of places that were to be Cities of Refuge in the nation of Israel.  In these cities, the most deplorable people were welcome.  These people were offered assylum in these cities that would welcome them in, allowing them to take part in life just as they were - baggage and all. Cities of Refuge were not seen as places of protection, but instead places where atonement could be fostered. Rabbis believed that people who murdered were not just murders but instead people with stories.  They had stories that led them down the path of death and thus these cities would offer grace and mercy. They would offer opportunity for acceptance, healing and restoration for all.

What if the people of God built cities of refuge, instead of walls of exclusion? What if the people of God embraced every single person, no matter what they have done?

During my time in Portland this past week, I fell in love with her. I could not help but see Portland as a modern-day city of refuge of sorts. People from all over the world, from outcasts for their "weirdness" to those who are young urban creatives, have assembled within her jagged walls seeking assylum, seeking refuge. Maya Angleou said, "The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned." There's something deep within us all longing to be loved. There's a force within our souls passionately pursuing belonging-ness.  An Eternal Master Creative created humanity for community. We were created for one anotherness. Portland is a city that, at least on the surface, embraces the weird, the broken, the sinner, the creative, the open. The question is does it offer a place of atonement, a place of grace.  I can't say. She's not my home.  But that leads me to questions about myself and about my church.   

The biblical cities of refuge were to be operated and ran by the priestly class. The priests of the nation were called to care for all who would enter.  These priestly folks would extend grace and mercy to all who were unwanted and even to those who the world sought to kill.  As followers of Christ, we are a priesthood of believers. We are all to be ministers of the Gospel, caring for the poor, caring for all we meet. Am I creating a city of refuge? Am I offering assylum within my heart and life to those who are most in need of it? Is the Church a city of refuge for the broken, for those who do not look like us, or smell like us? Are we creating safe spaces for all no matter the labels we could assign to them?  Is the Church fostering an environment of protection and connection? Or are we creating cities with ten-mile high walls of exclusion, asking people to jump higher? Sadly, I do not have an answer that I am comfortable with.  

The Church has created spaces in which people are not free to be themselves in awe of an Eternal Master Creative. And so the world creates spaces like Portland where people have a freedom in being themselves, weird, strange, young urban creative,..anything. In Portland, you dress how you want to dress, you speak how you want to speak, you sing in the key that you want to sing and all who wander are not lost. Gospel transfiguration starts with embracing our humanity. The Gospel is about becoming uniquely human by a reconnecting to our Eternal Master Creative and lively freely and boldly in his creativity.

Church, we have missed something. We stand at a crossroads with our world and we must make a choice. Will we be a city on a hill? A city of refuge? A city of grace and mercy? A city of love and connection? Or will we remain behind our walls of exclusion, holding tightly to our own salvation? 

I dream differently to jazz

Last night after a very long but blessed business trip, I climbed aboard the plane at PDX and found my seat. I was looking forward to this four hour flight that was ahead of me. I don't sleep much but enough usually, over this trip deep sleep escaped me.

A gentleman sat down next to me and well, I've never met a stranger. He stood out entering the plane because the stewardesses made a big deal about space. He and his friends were spread all over the plane but they all came carrying instruments, having to store them in the very back. 

As I prepared myself for the long flight, adjusting my jacket, getting my earbuds ready and detangled, I asked him how he reclined his seat. Being new to this airline I couldn't figure out how to do it. Turns out it took extra effort for me anyways since the lever was under the seat and you had to simultaneously pull the lever and push back with your back. With my vertical challenges and short arms, reclining seat turned out to be quite an amusing sight for all around. 

I asked this gentleman what instrument he played and if he was from Portland. He wasn't, but he played the trombone. Jazz was his trade. Tired as I was, I thanked him for his help and asked him one more question: "If I were to find one  Jazz artist on Apple Music to listen to for the flight who should I find?" After a moment of consideration his response was - Brad Mehldau. 

I looked him up. This Brad guy is a pretty prolific artist, so the gentleman picked an album for me. I laid back, closed my eyes and drifted off with my pink pillow wrapped snugly around my neck.

If you meet me, I might randomly ask you for an album to listen to. It keeps my musical life diverse. 

Music speaks to my soul. I'm a feeler. I feel everything deeply. I gave up memorizing music, albums, or who sings what a long time ago because I am also a thinker. My mind goes a mile a minute and inconsequential things are left to the side as I process, which to the horror of some and the joy of others I am an external processor. I talk things out. I write things out. Too some that means I talk too much. I guess, music joins me in the conversation and speaks to the deepest parts of my soul. 

No, I'm not going to tell you my dreams because you wouldn't understand, but I will tell you that I dream differently to jazz. Something in my soul listened intently while my eyes and my mind rested and I danced in my seat. 

I awoke as we were landing and I thanked this gentlemen. "Thank you for picking the soundtrack to my dreams."

He looked at me strangely, thought about it, then giving a twinkling smile said, "Ha! You're welcome!"  

Knowing that the man next to me was not the man on the album cover he had chosen, I asked him if he played music like that and he said no, his was a little different. Turns out I was sitting next to a pretty prolific jazz artist in his own right! And I dream differently to jazz. 

At the end of the day I'm selling shoes...

 This week I had the opportunity to visit the headquarters of what has to be the largest shoe company in the world. During a tour, I listened as the young man leading graciously shared the story of his employer. This story was not just about his employer. It was evident that the story of this company had become fully his own story. He knew the language, he knew the story and he knew his place within the story. He had a home in this company. 

His words were eloquent and elaborate as he shared his heart for over 2 hours. He didn't talk about marketing in the traditional sense, he talked about virtues: 1) be authentic 2) have commitment 3) know your story and 4) believe in that story. He also clearly labeled his ability to see reality for what was.  But he closed with this "at the end of the day, I'm selling shoes and I don't ever want to disconnect from that." This is the art of his business. 

The art of being a pastor is often times seen as unique. Unique because of the high expectations. The future of your church rests on your shoulders and everything has the potential to be your greatest masterpiece or your greatest mistake. The virtues are the same: 1) be authentic 2) have commitment 3) know your story and 4) believe in that story. 

While I dislike the imagery of "church as business", I was struck this past week at how the same basics apply.  At the end of the day, my job as pastor is to connect you to your story within God's story. To show you the Good News of God's solution to the formlessness, emptiness and void that exists in your life. 

And these virtues are not just for me as pastor , but also for you as follower. 1) be authentic 2) have commitment 3) know your story and 4) believe in that story.  The Church has the power of the Spirit among us when we live out these virtues with one another. We must be all-in!!

Are you authentic? 

Do you have commitment? Not so much, to the Gospel, of course you have that. This commitment is about the community. Are you committed to the community? 

Do you know your story? Do you know the story of God? Do you know the story of your community? 

Do you believe in that story? 

Two things we should get right

It has been so hard to have words to speak about the Orlando massacre. Sunday morning I did not see the news. I got up, got ready and did my Sunday morning routine.  I didn't know what had happened until after the worship service when people were already leaving. 

My daughter came and said "mommy, you didn't see this this morning?" Questioning my lack of acknowledgement and showing me her news feed...My immediate response was heartbreak and tears. All I had seen in that moment were brief facts - 50 dead, Orlando gay bar, largest mass shooting in US history.  I grabbed a microphone. (It took a bit to get it back on, as our sound people were already shutting down.) I was shaking and in tears, but I called my people back to the center, gathered in a circle and I led my church to pray...feeling helpless and absolutely crushed. Prayers of repentance for the hatred humanity harbors for one another, for the horrible things that we do to one another. A prayer of lament. A prayer for people we never met and will never be able to. A prayer for families and friends of those in Orlando. Prayer that seemed to be completely inadequate. 

In Matthew 22, Jesus the Messiah delivers the great commandment to his followers, which echoes the commandments given to the Jewish people in Deuteronomy in Leviticus: "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself. All the law and the prophets hang on these two commandments." 

Speaking not just to Christians, but to all of humanity, hear me when I say: if we get no other commandment right, we will have done well just to complete these two. If we fail at everything else in life, but we love one another, we have succeeded.  

The LGBTQ Community is made up of our neighbors. They are our brothers, our sisters, our cousins, our aunts, uncles, mothers and/or fathers. They are human beings created in the very image of God and worthy of dignity and respect. 

How we, as followers of Christ respond in tragedies... How we respond as followers of Christ in every moment of every day must be in love. I struggle to find words to adequately communicate what is going on inside my heart.  My heart has been crying since I heard. It has been hard to fight back tears every single moment. I have had the urge to just hug random strangers (I haven't). I have been more kind. I have been slower to speak, acknowledging God in every face I have seen, pausing to see the unseen, and seeking ways to love others, because prayer, although powerful and needed, doesn't seem enough. 

We are called to break the chains of injustice, to untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free. These things inherently make us uncomfortable because they make us lay down our own expectations, our own rights, our own freedom, our own lives, so that others might have freedom. I believe that in times like this we must find a faithful path in the words of Paul in Romans 9 when he says, "I would wish myself cursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my people." Basically, I would go to hell if it means that one person might know the love of my God through me.