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?