by Pastor Nancy Christensen
It didn’t all begin with ordination…
The voices of women have echoed through the centuries, mostly unheard, often deliberately ignored. But, women have worked, and sacrificed, and witnessed for Christ – women have lived, and loved, and served for the sake of the gospel – and women have played a strong, even if mostly unheralded, role in the growth of the church, and in the development of the world.
On June 29, 1970, in an evening session of the fifth biennial convention of the Lutheran Church in America, Section II, Item1 of the Bylaws was amended to read, “A minister of this church shall be a person whose soundness in the faith, aptness to teach and educational qualifications have been examined and approved in the manner prescribed in the constitution...” With this amendment, the way was opened for women in the LCA to serve as parish pastors, and to fill other ordained positions in the church. Four months later, on October 24, 1970, The American Lutheran Church also welcomed women to its rolls.
Pastor Elizabeth Platz was the first, followed by Pastor Barbara Andrews. Later came Pastor Earlene Miller, in 1979, the first African American woman to be ordained; and that same year Pastor Lydia Rivera Kalb, the first Hispanic woman to serve in the Lutheran church. Forty years later, there are approximately 3500 women (19.9%) on the ELCA clergy roster, and approximately 6000 women (31.2%) on the overall ELCA roster, serving as pastors, associates in ministry, deaconesses, and diaconal ministers.
Those of us who serve today owe a debt of gratitude to all the women who came before us. We honor their continuing legacy, and we celebrate their commitment to stand tall through the years of struggle and discrimination. We also remember these awesome women so that we might seek ourselves to live faithfully, to speak out for others whose voices are not heard, and to serve with integrity in all the years to come.
We rejoice in these 40 years, and we encourage the young girls who are watching us even now to be bold leaders in the church, and in the world!
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Is Theological Education Relevant Today?
On April 28 – 30th at the Lutheran Theological Center in Atlanta on the campus of the Interdenominational Theological Center, a Consultation will be held to discuss Theological Education as it relates to the needs of students of color. Several Lutheran Theologians of Color from our various ELCA seminaries and others who will gather in celebration of Lutheran Days at ITC to discuss this important topic. This three day celebration includes various workshops and several worship services Wednesday evening including a Young Adult Worship Service, Chapel Service at ITC Thursday at 11AM, and a culminating Friday evening worship service at 7PM also at ITC with Bishop Stephen Marsh of Southeast Michigan Synod preaching as we honor and recognize former directors of the Lutheran Theological Center in Atlanta, Dr. Carl Ficken and Dr. Art Lewis. Know that all are welcome to attend. (See the schedule in this e-news.) This consultation will also discuss the question of “Is theological education relevant today?” Another question to be posed is, is theological education providing the tools for mission and ministry in the city. “Are we in the City for good?”
In January of this year, three European American Lutheran students from two of our ELCA seminaries engaging in the Urban Plunge in Atlanta through LTCA realized how much they were not educated in the realities of urban living that are consistently shifting. The realities of urban life, such as homelessness, they said, are now on the door steps of their realities in the suburbs. How do leaders respond?
Dr. Robert Franklin, in the forward to the book, “Transforming the City: Reframing Education of Urban Ministry”, defines urban theological education as being prophetic, public witness and activism where leaders learn about the ministry of comprehensive community transformation. Students not only learn about urban realities, but they also learn how to develop and to announce a vision of “the good community and the good city”. Strategic theological thinking and planning about urban ministry should give attention to biblical, theological ethical consideration for such ministry.
“The strengthening and pursuit of church unity in theological education is a Gospel imperative for any church joining in the affirmation of the church as being “one, holy, catholic and apostolic”.
This statement, taken is from the Magna Charta on Ecumenical Formation in Theological Education in the 21st Century, a working document drafted by the World Council of Churches. According to the Magna Charta, ecumenical formation in theological education is guided by a vision of sharing and mutual discoveries reaching beyond the realm of Christianity to the human community in the whole inhabited earth and takes into account the challenges of Christians living in close neighborhoods (urban contexts) and the experience of mutual sharing and solidarity with people of other faith traditions. Ecumenical theological education has the potential to help students “overcome the impasse between commitment and critique, between trust and suspicion” and to advocate for the transformative practices of “witness and risk”.
In 1993, the ELCA Churchwide Assembly approved, as the planning and guiding focus for the preparation of leaders for this church into the 21st century, eleven (11) imperatives for theological education. One of the educational imperative suggested that the ELCA needed leaders who could minister effectively with people from a diverse range of life situations including ethnic origins, vocational and educational experience, family situations, regional variations, types of communities, and political value systems.
Another one of the imperative suggested that this church should provide candidates with theological education that is congruent with their varied cultural perspectives and one that prepares them for rostered ministry throughout the ELCA. I raise again the questions: is theological education in the ELCA relevant? Is theological education in which leaders (including the laity) being prepared adequate in preparing persons to reach across cultures? Are the Churchwide Imperatives for Theological Education, to equip leaders to start new ministries, to be ecumenical, and to engage the public sphere still important ideals today as they were seventeen years ago? I invite you to engage in this discussion.
Beverly Wallace
On April 28 – 30th at the Lutheran Theological Center in Atlanta on the campus of the Interdenominational Theological Center, a Consultation will be held to discuss Theological Education as it relates to the needs of students of color. Several Lutheran Theologians of Color from our various ELCA seminaries and others who will gather in celebration of Lutheran Days at ITC to discuss this important topic. This three day celebration includes various workshops and several worship services Wednesday evening including a Young Adult Worship Service, Chapel Service at ITC Thursday at 11AM, and a culminating Friday evening worship service at 7PM also at ITC with Bishop Stephen Marsh of Southeast Michigan Synod preaching as we honor and recognize former directors of the Lutheran Theological Center in Atlanta, Dr. Carl Ficken and Dr. Art Lewis. Know that all are welcome to attend. (See the schedule in this e-news.) This consultation will also discuss the question of “Is theological education relevant today?” Another question to be posed is, is theological education providing the tools for mission and ministry in the city. “Are we in the City for good?”
In January of this year, three European American Lutheran students from two of our ELCA seminaries engaging in the Urban Plunge in Atlanta through LTCA realized how much they were not educated in the realities of urban living that are consistently shifting. The realities of urban life, such as homelessness, they said, are now on the door steps of their realities in the suburbs. How do leaders respond?
Dr. Robert Franklin, in the forward to the book, “Transforming the City: Reframing Education of Urban Ministry”, defines urban theological education as being prophetic, public witness and activism where leaders learn about the ministry of comprehensive community transformation. Students not only learn about urban realities, but they also learn how to develop and to announce a vision of “the good community and the good city”. Strategic theological thinking and planning about urban ministry should give attention to biblical, theological ethical consideration for such ministry.
“The strengthening and pursuit of church unity in theological education is a Gospel imperative for any church joining in the affirmation of the church as being “one, holy, catholic and apostolic”.
This statement, taken is from the Magna Charta on Ecumenical Formation in Theological Education in the 21st Century, a working document drafted by the World Council of Churches. According to the Magna Charta, ecumenical formation in theological education is guided by a vision of sharing and mutual discoveries reaching beyond the realm of Christianity to the human community in the whole inhabited earth and takes into account the challenges of Christians living in close neighborhoods (urban contexts) and the experience of mutual sharing and solidarity with people of other faith traditions. Ecumenical theological education has the potential to help students “overcome the impasse between commitment and critique, between trust and suspicion” and to advocate for the transformative practices of “witness and risk”.
In 1993, the ELCA Churchwide Assembly approved, as the planning and guiding focus for the preparation of leaders for this church into the 21st century, eleven (11) imperatives for theological education. One of the educational imperative suggested that the ELCA needed leaders who could minister effectively with people from a diverse range of life situations including ethnic origins, vocational and educational experience, family situations, regional variations, types of communities, and political value systems.
Another one of the imperative suggested that this church should provide candidates with theological education that is congruent with their varied cultural perspectives and one that prepares them for rostered ministry throughout the ELCA. I raise again the questions: is theological education in the ELCA relevant? Is theological education in which leaders (including the laity) being prepared adequate in preparing persons to reach across cultures? Are the Churchwide Imperatives for Theological Education, to equip leaders to start new ministries, to be ecumenical, and to engage the public sphere still important ideals today as they were seventeen years ago? I invite you to engage in this discussion.
Beverly Wallace
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Oh, How We dislike paying Those Taxes
Pastors and CPAs have something in common. They both are under pressure in March and April. We might say that one is dealing with God and the other is dealing with Caesar. Both would like to spread the work out more evenly over the weeks and months. But events are events and deadlines are deadlines. Holy Week and Easter are the pinnacles of the Christian experience. Tax day is not only when the government gets paid; it is also the time accountants see checks roll in for services provided.
The Pharisees sought to trap Jesus by asking him if it was lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not. He deftly avoided the trap by asking them whose image was on a coin. He said they ought to give to Caesar what was Caesar’s and to God what was God’s. So, how does this play out in our churches and lifestyles these days?
Taxes are not a happy thought. People complain against even the possibility of taxation. It is a brave and perhaps foolish politician who attempts to speak in favor of a new or increased tax. The litmus test of a candidate is to be against taxes.
That having been said, I believe most Americans have lost touch with what they receive for the taxes they pay. There are parks, roads and airports. There is Medicare and Medicaid. There is defense and education. There are police and firefighters. There is my Golden Age Passport (Don’t miss getting one when you are 62). I could go on enumerating the many benefits we and our neighbors receive. You may still not be impressed, but I suggest we take a little pride in what government provides.
So, how about the money we give to God and his church? I believe there are many in our churches who look at giving as a necessary evil and mission support as taxation. “I don’t like when we have to talk about money”, say some folks. And I really believe that many see synod and churchwide as state and federal.
Two points I would make. It is up to us as churchleaders to persistently interpret what mission support is used for…missions. The Great Commission and the Great Commandment are our callings. When disaster happens, our church is there. Global missions, new mission developments and ecumenical relationships often don’t happen without benevolence giving.
And the second point is, as Christians, we have a need to give. A balanced life and a generous spirit are marks of a faithful believer. We are part of all three expressions of the church that need our support. The Lord loves a cheerful giver.
We live in the Eastertime and tax day has come. Let us give Caesar his just due, and with a more appreciative heart, let us repay God some of what is all his anyway.
Darrel Peterson
The Pharisees sought to trap Jesus by asking him if it was lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not. He deftly avoided the trap by asking them whose image was on a coin. He said they ought to give to Caesar what was Caesar’s and to God what was God’s. So, how does this play out in our churches and lifestyles these days?
Taxes are not a happy thought. People complain against even the possibility of taxation. It is a brave and perhaps foolish politician who attempts to speak in favor of a new or increased tax. The litmus test of a candidate is to be against taxes.
That having been said, I believe most Americans have lost touch with what they receive for the taxes they pay. There are parks, roads and airports. There is Medicare and Medicaid. There is defense and education. There are police and firefighters. There is my Golden Age Passport (Don’t miss getting one when you are 62). I could go on enumerating the many benefits we and our neighbors receive. You may still not be impressed, but I suggest we take a little pride in what government provides.
So, how about the money we give to God and his church? I believe there are many in our churches who look at giving as a necessary evil and mission support as taxation. “I don’t like when we have to talk about money”, say some folks. And I really believe that many see synod and churchwide as state and federal.
Two points I would make. It is up to us as churchleaders to persistently interpret what mission support is used for…missions. The Great Commission and the Great Commandment are our callings. When disaster happens, our church is there. Global missions, new mission developments and ecumenical relationships often don’t happen without benevolence giving.
And the second point is, as Christians, we have a need to give. A balanced life and a generous spirit are marks of a faithful believer. We are part of all three expressions of the church that need our support. The Lord loves a cheerful giver.
We live in the Eastertime and tax day has come. Let us give Caesar his just due, and with a more appreciative heart, let us repay God some of what is all his anyway.
Darrel Peterson
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
The Breath of God
I was driving back to the church after a hospital visit one wintry afternoon about 30 years ago. The sun was shining bright and directly into my eyes. I turned left at a lonely country intersection and BAM!
My little Datsun was slammed into by a large delivery truck doing 60 miles an hour. He hit me right behind the back door and the car spun round and round like a top, then WHAM! I stopped, wedged into the ditch on the side of the road.
Every window in the car was broken, the steering wheel was broken, the seat was broken. My head was in the backseat, passenger side and my feet were under the steering wheel and I couldn’t breathe. I literally COULD NOT BREATHE. That truck knocked the wind out of me.
The wreck was witnessed by one of my parishioners, Kitty Hightower. She ran to my car and leaned in the broken window. “Pastor, Pastor, are you all right?” Well no, I wasn’t all right. I couldn’t breathe. There was no air in my lungs and I didn’t seem to be able to get any in there.
I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t even move; I just stared at her with my mouth open. Kitty started crying, and then started screaming to the men rushing over from the country store, “He’s dead, He’s dead. Oh my God, the Pastor’s dead!” Which is, I assure you, a peculiar thing to have screamed in your ear when you are indeed very much alive.
After what seemed like an eternity I was able to get a bit of air into my lungs and was able to lift a hand and touch Kitty on the shoulder; which, in retrospect, was not the best thing to do, seeing as how she thought I was dead and all. When I touched her on the shoulder, she jerked her head up and looked at me with real terror in her eyes. Finally, I squeezed out the words, “It’s alright Kitty, I’m not dead.”
On the Evening of that first Easter, the disciples were meeting in a room, probably the same room in which they had held their Passover. They had the door shut, bolted, locked. They were frightened. They could not get their bearings. They could not breathe.
They had given up everything to follow Jesus, and this is not how they expected things to turn out. Just a week ago, on Palm Sunday, they had entered the city with such gigantically high hopes, and now this; this utter disaster. They had had the wind knocked out of them. And on that first Easter evening, Jesus the Christ came to the disciples in that locked and airless room and breathed new life into them.
At one time or another all of us are like the disciples were on that first Easter evening. We too have had the wind knocked out of us. Some of us have lost loved ones unexpectedly, some of us are struggling with the diagnosis of a long-term illness in the family, some of us have had job losses, some of us have lost economic security, some of us have failed to get that promotion (or that call) we had hoped for, our children haven’t worked out the way we hoped, our marriages are hurting.
All of us have had the wind knocked out of us sometime; probably sometime lately. Believe you me, in times like those, the big picture fades away and all one's energy is centered on surviving, on breathing, on taking one more precious breathe, and anything other than present personal experience becomes difficult to believe in or focus upon.
In most of our lives those personal experiences that would convince us to believe in God are few and far between, practically non-existent; and those things that would cause us to disbelieve, that knock the wind out of us, are much louder, persistent and frequent.
This is why what Jesus did in that room with those disciples is so important to us. Jesus reminded them where he came from “Just as the Father sent me,” and then he reminded them where they were going, “So I send you!”
Then he filled them with the Holy Spirit the way God the Creator filled the lungs of Adam and Eve with the very air we breathe, the wind that gives us life. Lastly, he reminded them what their calling was, what they were being sent out filled with the Holy Spirit to do “Forgive sins.”
All this says to us that whether God loves us or not is NOT dependent on whether we’re feeling the love or not. It is dependent upon God’s choice to love us; a choice God made and will never undo.
Whether God is involved in our lives is not dependent upon whether or not our grand plans and schemes for ourselves or for God are working out or not; God’s involvement in our lives is again God’s choice, a choice God has already made and will not unmake.
All the disciples, Thomas and the others, had an advantage we do not and will not have; they got to see the Risen Lord. But we have an advantage they did not; we have seen the fact that the Church and the Gospel are still going strong 2000 years later; again, not because of us, but because of God.
Delmer Chilton
My little Datsun was slammed into by a large delivery truck doing 60 miles an hour. He hit me right behind the back door and the car spun round and round like a top, then WHAM! I stopped, wedged into the ditch on the side of the road.
Every window in the car was broken, the steering wheel was broken, the seat was broken. My head was in the backseat, passenger side and my feet were under the steering wheel and I couldn’t breathe. I literally COULD NOT BREATHE. That truck knocked the wind out of me.
The wreck was witnessed by one of my parishioners, Kitty Hightower. She ran to my car and leaned in the broken window. “Pastor, Pastor, are you all right?” Well no, I wasn’t all right. I couldn’t breathe. There was no air in my lungs and I didn’t seem to be able to get any in there.
I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t even move; I just stared at her with my mouth open. Kitty started crying, and then started screaming to the men rushing over from the country store, “He’s dead, He’s dead. Oh my God, the Pastor’s dead!” Which is, I assure you, a peculiar thing to have screamed in your ear when you are indeed very much alive.
After what seemed like an eternity I was able to get a bit of air into my lungs and was able to lift a hand and touch Kitty on the shoulder; which, in retrospect, was not the best thing to do, seeing as how she thought I was dead and all. When I touched her on the shoulder, she jerked her head up and looked at me with real terror in her eyes. Finally, I squeezed out the words, “It’s alright Kitty, I’m not dead.”
On the Evening of that first Easter, the disciples were meeting in a room, probably the same room in which they had held their Passover. They had the door shut, bolted, locked. They were frightened. They could not get their bearings. They could not breathe.
They had given up everything to follow Jesus, and this is not how they expected things to turn out. Just a week ago, on Palm Sunday, they had entered the city with such gigantically high hopes, and now this; this utter disaster. They had had the wind knocked out of them. And on that first Easter evening, Jesus the Christ came to the disciples in that locked and airless room and breathed new life into them.
At one time or another all of us are like the disciples were on that first Easter evening. We too have had the wind knocked out of us. Some of us have lost loved ones unexpectedly, some of us are struggling with the diagnosis of a long-term illness in the family, some of us have had job losses, some of us have lost economic security, some of us have failed to get that promotion (or that call) we had hoped for, our children haven’t worked out the way we hoped, our marriages are hurting.
All of us have had the wind knocked out of us sometime; probably sometime lately. Believe you me, in times like those, the big picture fades away and all one's energy is centered on surviving, on breathing, on taking one more precious breathe, and anything other than present personal experience becomes difficult to believe in or focus upon.
In most of our lives those personal experiences that would convince us to believe in God are few and far between, practically non-existent; and those things that would cause us to disbelieve, that knock the wind out of us, are much louder, persistent and frequent.
This is why what Jesus did in that room with those disciples is so important to us. Jesus reminded them where he came from “Just as the Father sent me,” and then he reminded them where they were going, “So I send you!”
Then he filled them with the Holy Spirit the way God the Creator filled the lungs of Adam and Eve with the very air we breathe, the wind that gives us life. Lastly, he reminded them what their calling was, what they were being sent out filled with the Holy Spirit to do “Forgive sins.”
All this says to us that whether God loves us or not is NOT dependent on whether we’re feeling the love or not. It is dependent upon God’s choice to love us; a choice God made and will never undo.
Whether God is involved in our lives is not dependent upon whether or not our grand plans and schemes for ourselves or for God are working out or not; God’s involvement in our lives is again God’s choice, a choice God has already made and will not unmake.
All the disciples, Thomas and the others, had an advantage we do not and will not have; they got to see the Risen Lord. But we have an advantage they did not; we have seen the fact that the Church and the Gospel are still going strong 2000 years later; again, not because of us, but because of God.
Delmer Chilton
Friday, April 2, 2010
Good Friday Stories
I found this first story in a sermon I wrote and preached at Holy Trinity in Nashville in 1998. I failed to footnote it in the manuscript and an hour or so of searching through "the usual suspects," i.e. Will Wilimon and Fred Craddock, failed to turn up anything. All I can say is, it's a good story and I know I didn't make it up. I also researched Catholic churches in North Myrtle Beach, and found Our Lady Star of the Sea, which had a Father Ed briefly in the 1970's.
"Father Ed was pastor of the Catholic Church on the strip in North Myrtle Beach, SC. Several years ago on Good Friday morning, he removed the purple Lent banners from the three wooden crossses in the church yard and draped the crosses with black shrouds.
He took a few minutes to pray and enjoy the sunshine, then it was back to the office to write sermons and prepare worship folders for Good Friday, Easter Vigil and Easter morning.
Early in the afternoon, Father Ed received a phone call from the North Myrtle Beach Chamber of Commerce. A vocie said,
Look preacher, we've been getting some complaints about those crosses out in your churchyard. Now inside the church, who cares? But out front, where everybody can see them, they're offensive. The retired people here don't like them - they're depressing. The tourists won't like it either. IT WILL BE BAD FOR BUSINESS! People come down here to get happy, not depressed."
The cross was, and still is, offensive, depressing and bad for business.
And that simple fact is both the burden and the treasure of the church. To embrace the cross tightly and to proclaim it boldly is a sure and certain way to place ourselves outside the mainstream of much of what passes for spirituality and religion in our modern and postmodern world.
Yet, any attempt to avoid the scandal of the cross in our life together as the people of God will inevitably lead to a case of spiritual anemia. Our souls will shrivel up and die unless we are willing to embrace the offensive symbol that stands defiantly at the center of our faith; the scarred and bloody Cross of Christ.
The cross reminds us of the awful reality of sin and evil in the world. Whenever we become too complacent about the significance of our faults and failures; whenever we shrug off public and private immorality with a sigh and a wink and a mild protest that, after all, "we're only human;" the Cross of Christ looms up to confront us with the profound and deadly result of sin in our lives. It will not let us forget that evil exists, evil touches all our lives, and we are all a part of that evil.
But the cross not only offends and depresses and calls us to an awareness of evil. By a great and glorious paradox it also comforts and redeems us.
Maggie Ross in THE FIRE OF YOUR LIFE tells the story of Emma, a holocaust survivor. Everyday, rain or shine, Emma stood outside a Manhattan church and screamed insults at Jesus. She blamed Jesus and the Christians for Hitler's atrocities. Finally the pastor, the Rev. Myers, went outside and said to her, "Why don't you go inside and tell him?" Emma nodded and disappeared inside the church and the pastor went back to his office. An hour went by and he began to get worried and looked in on her. She was lying perfectly still, face down in front of the lifesize crucifix over the altar. When he touched her shoulder, she looked up with tears in her eyes and whispered, "After all, he was a Jew too."
Turning away from and ignoring the harsh realities to which the cross points will only keep us mired in our sins and deadly illusions; but turning to the cross will both open our eyes and set us free; free from our sins, free from our foolishness and free from wallowing in our suffering.
To turn to the cross is to weep at the suffering of Jesus and to recognize that our own suffering is transformed by what happened there.
To turn to the cross is to embrace the mystery that lies at the heart of God; the mystery of God's weakness being strength, the mystery of God's foolishness being wisdom, the mystery of God's offensiveness being the most proper thing in the world.
So yes, the Cross is offensive, depressing and bad for business. It is also our hope and our salvation.
Delmer Chilton
"Father Ed was pastor of the Catholic Church on the strip in North Myrtle Beach, SC. Several years ago on Good Friday morning, he removed the purple Lent banners from the three wooden crossses in the church yard and draped the crosses with black shrouds.
He took a few minutes to pray and enjoy the sunshine, then it was back to the office to write sermons and prepare worship folders for Good Friday, Easter Vigil and Easter morning.
Early in the afternoon, Father Ed received a phone call from the North Myrtle Beach Chamber of Commerce. A vocie said,
Look preacher, we've been getting some complaints about those crosses out in your churchyard. Now inside the church, who cares? But out front, where everybody can see them, they're offensive. The retired people here don't like them - they're depressing. The tourists won't like it either. IT WILL BE BAD FOR BUSINESS! People come down here to get happy, not depressed."
The cross was, and still is, offensive, depressing and bad for business.
And that simple fact is both the burden and the treasure of the church. To embrace the cross tightly and to proclaim it boldly is a sure and certain way to place ourselves outside the mainstream of much of what passes for spirituality and religion in our modern and postmodern world.
Yet, any attempt to avoid the scandal of the cross in our life together as the people of God will inevitably lead to a case of spiritual anemia. Our souls will shrivel up and die unless we are willing to embrace the offensive symbol that stands defiantly at the center of our faith; the scarred and bloody Cross of Christ.
The cross reminds us of the awful reality of sin and evil in the world. Whenever we become too complacent about the significance of our faults and failures; whenever we shrug off public and private immorality with a sigh and a wink and a mild protest that, after all, "we're only human;" the Cross of Christ looms up to confront us with the profound and deadly result of sin in our lives. It will not let us forget that evil exists, evil touches all our lives, and we are all a part of that evil.
But the cross not only offends and depresses and calls us to an awareness of evil. By a great and glorious paradox it also comforts and redeems us.
Maggie Ross in THE FIRE OF YOUR LIFE tells the story of Emma, a holocaust survivor. Everyday, rain or shine, Emma stood outside a Manhattan church and screamed insults at Jesus. She blamed Jesus and the Christians for Hitler's atrocities. Finally the pastor, the Rev. Myers, went outside and said to her, "Why don't you go inside and tell him?" Emma nodded and disappeared inside the church and the pastor went back to his office. An hour went by and he began to get worried and looked in on her. She was lying perfectly still, face down in front of the lifesize crucifix over the altar. When he touched her shoulder, she looked up with tears in her eyes and whispered, "After all, he was a Jew too."
Turning away from and ignoring the harsh realities to which the cross points will only keep us mired in our sins and deadly illusions; but turning to the cross will both open our eyes and set us free; free from our sins, free from our foolishness and free from wallowing in our suffering.
To turn to the cross is to weep at the suffering of Jesus and to recognize that our own suffering is transformed by what happened there.
To turn to the cross is to embrace the mystery that lies at the heart of God; the mystery of God's weakness being strength, the mystery of God's foolishness being wisdom, the mystery of God's offensiveness being the most proper thing in the world.
So yes, the Cross is offensive, depressing and bad for business. It is also our hope and our salvation.
Delmer Chilton
Thursday, April 1, 2010
MAUNDY THURSDAY, Pr. Michael Lippard, St. Andrews, Franklin, TN
As Jewish families around the world sit down for their Seder meal, this question is asked by the youngest member of each family: “Why is this night different from all other nights?” We might ask a similar question ourselves: why is tonight’s Eucharist different from all other celebrations of the Eucharist?
The annual Seder commemorates the first and original Passover meal which prepared the way for Israel’s exodus from Egypt. For Jews, that’s what makes last night different from all other nights. On Maundy Thursday, Christians around the world commemorate Jesus’ institution of the sacrament of Holy Communion. That is what makes tonight’s celebration of the Eucharist different from all the others of the year. This is the day/night Jesus assured us of his ongoing real presence with us in this holy meal.
Curiously, John’s gospel has nothing to say about this. Jesus’ last supper with his disciples is mentioned, but John never tells us that Jesus identified bread with his body and wine with his blood. John focuses on what happened after supper. He reports that Jesus “rose from supper and took off his outer garments. He took a towel and tied it around his waist. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and dry them.” After making this symbolic gesture and allowing time for discussion, Jesus summarized the point he was making to the disciples: “I give you a new commandment: love one another. As I have loved you, so you also should love one another.” This is the reason we call today Maundy Thursday. Maundy means mandate or commandment. The giving of this new commandment to love one another, which Jesus illustrated by washing feet, also makes this Eucharist different from all others.
Many years ago, when I was in high school in North Carolina, I spent a summer on a college campus with 400 other 10th and 11th grade students from across the state. Once when I was in the music lab, a friend of mine showed up with a brand new album he had just purchased: it was the Beatles’ “Sergeant Peppers’ Lonely Hearts Club Band.” That was 1967, when an article appeared in Time magazine about the hippies of San Francisco. I don’t need to tell you that North Carolina is a long way from San Francisco in a lot of ways, but that didn’t keep some of us boys from wondering if our counselor in the dorm was a hippie. John was a person of considerable interest to us. He was a college student who had long hair and a beard. Most of us had never met anybody who looked like that before. One Saturday when we were swimming and relaxing at the pool with John, a boy asked him, “John, do you believe in God?” John said he didn’t know if God existed or not. John believed in love. He thought love had a lot more relevance to life than ideas about God.
Most of us thought that was a weird way to talk and think about God. But in his own way, John had voiced an idea about God and faith that the Lutheran pastor, theologian and martyr Dietrich Bonhoeffer had expressed. Bonhoeffer believed that the challenges of living faithfully in the 20th century required a Christianity not preoccupied with articulating doctrine and belief so much as being committed to practicing the faith. While this may sound radical or threatening, Bonhoeffer was talking about Christianity at its most basic level.
The word radical is often misunderstood and maligned. It is almost exclusively thought of as being a synonym for extreme, sometimes carrying with it associations with violence. But if you look up the word radical in a dictionary, you will find that its first and primary definition goes something like this: “of or from the root or roots; going to the foundations or source of something; fundamental; basic.”
What are the roots, fundamentals and basics of our faith? What are the foundations of the faith we were taught as children, which we, in turn, teach children today? Some of the roots of my faith, some of my most basic (dare I say radical?) theology was taught to me in songs. I expect you also are familiar with these radical songs of the Christian faith: Jesus loves me this I know, Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world, Praise Him, praise Him all ye little children, God is love, God is love. This conviction that God is love and Jesus is the personification of God’s love is at the heart of our faith. Everyone needs to be loved. Everyone needs to love. We are shaped by the people who love us. We are shaped by the people who refuse to love us. Others are shaped by our love. Others are shaped by our refusal to love. Love, as the Beatles sang, is all you need. What the world needs now, as Jackie DeShannon sang, is love.
How is God’s love in Christ expressed in today’s/tonight’s gospel? So Jesus “rose from supper and took off his outer garments. He took a towel and tied it around his waist. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and dry them.”
Why is this Eucharist different from all others?
John’s gospel shows us a Christ who is so intimate with us that we may find ourselves, like Peter, feeling uncomfortable. A squeaky clean and distant God may be easier to accept: a God who respects our privacy, maintains appropriate boundaries, and stays a safe distance away from our personal lives, including our feet. Today’s/ tonight’s gospel reminds us that we have a God of terrifying intimacy, a God who comes into the middle of our lives, stooping down to wash dirty feet. There’s quite a bit more dirty news about this God of ours. The bread and wine of Holy Communion is dirty stuff, too - Jesus’ own body and blood, given in return for betrayal, false arrest, humiliation and public execution. This is the God who presides over our meal today/tonight and over every Eucharist: a God who entered a world of sin and injustice by being born in a dirty barn; a God who socialized with unclean people, dirty people; a God who washed dirty feet, was betrayed with a dirty kiss, and sentenced to death with dirty tricks by religious and political leaders; a God who was hung on a dirty cross to die a dirty death on a dirty hill outside a dirty town.
That is what makes this Eucharist different from all others. It is a reminder that God’s love in Christ reaches out to claim us not in spite of human sinfulness, but because of the sins of the world, the dirt of the world, the dirt on our hands, hearts, minds and souls - even the dirt on the soles of our feet. God’s love is total and absolute. The love of God in Christ is a basic, foundational, fundamental, radical fact of our lives. God sent Jesus into the world because everyone needs to be loved. Christ’s love for us extends from head to toe; literally, from head to toe.
The annual Seder commemorates the first and original Passover meal which prepared the way for Israel’s exodus from Egypt. For Jews, that’s what makes last night different from all other nights. On Maundy Thursday, Christians around the world commemorate Jesus’ institution of the sacrament of Holy Communion. That is what makes tonight’s celebration of the Eucharist different from all the others of the year. This is the day/night Jesus assured us of his ongoing real presence with us in this holy meal.
Curiously, John’s gospel has nothing to say about this. Jesus’ last supper with his disciples is mentioned, but John never tells us that Jesus identified bread with his body and wine with his blood. John focuses on what happened after supper. He reports that Jesus “rose from supper and took off his outer garments. He took a towel and tied it around his waist. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and dry them.” After making this symbolic gesture and allowing time for discussion, Jesus summarized the point he was making to the disciples: “I give you a new commandment: love one another. As I have loved you, so you also should love one another.” This is the reason we call today Maundy Thursday. Maundy means mandate or commandment. The giving of this new commandment to love one another, which Jesus illustrated by washing feet, also makes this Eucharist different from all others.
Many years ago, when I was in high school in North Carolina, I spent a summer on a college campus with 400 other 10th and 11th grade students from across the state. Once when I was in the music lab, a friend of mine showed up with a brand new album he had just purchased: it was the Beatles’ “Sergeant Peppers’ Lonely Hearts Club Band.” That was 1967, when an article appeared in Time magazine about the hippies of San Francisco. I don’t need to tell you that North Carolina is a long way from San Francisco in a lot of ways, but that didn’t keep some of us boys from wondering if our counselor in the dorm was a hippie. John was a person of considerable interest to us. He was a college student who had long hair and a beard. Most of us had never met anybody who looked like that before. One Saturday when we were swimming and relaxing at the pool with John, a boy asked him, “John, do you believe in God?” John said he didn’t know if God existed or not. John believed in love. He thought love had a lot more relevance to life than ideas about God.
Most of us thought that was a weird way to talk and think about God. But in his own way, John had voiced an idea about God and faith that the Lutheran pastor, theologian and martyr Dietrich Bonhoeffer had expressed. Bonhoeffer believed that the challenges of living faithfully in the 20th century required a Christianity not preoccupied with articulating doctrine and belief so much as being committed to practicing the faith. While this may sound radical or threatening, Bonhoeffer was talking about Christianity at its most basic level.
The word radical is often misunderstood and maligned. It is almost exclusively thought of as being a synonym for extreme, sometimes carrying with it associations with violence. But if you look up the word radical in a dictionary, you will find that its first and primary definition goes something like this: “of or from the root or roots; going to the foundations or source of something; fundamental; basic.”
What are the roots, fundamentals and basics of our faith? What are the foundations of the faith we were taught as children, which we, in turn, teach children today? Some of the roots of my faith, some of my most basic (dare I say radical?) theology was taught to me in songs. I expect you also are familiar with these radical songs of the Christian faith: Jesus loves me this I know, Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world, Praise Him, praise Him all ye little children, God is love, God is love. This conviction that God is love and Jesus is the personification of God’s love is at the heart of our faith. Everyone needs to be loved. Everyone needs to love. We are shaped by the people who love us. We are shaped by the people who refuse to love us. Others are shaped by our love. Others are shaped by our refusal to love. Love, as the Beatles sang, is all you need. What the world needs now, as Jackie DeShannon sang, is love.
How is God’s love in Christ expressed in today’s/tonight’s gospel? So Jesus “rose from supper and took off his outer garments. He took a towel and tied it around his waist. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and dry them.”
Why is this Eucharist different from all others?
John’s gospel shows us a Christ who is so intimate with us that we may find ourselves, like Peter, feeling uncomfortable. A squeaky clean and distant God may be easier to accept: a God who respects our privacy, maintains appropriate boundaries, and stays a safe distance away from our personal lives, including our feet. Today’s/ tonight’s gospel reminds us that we have a God of terrifying intimacy, a God who comes into the middle of our lives, stooping down to wash dirty feet. There’s quite a bit more dirty news about this God of ours. The bread and wine of Holy Communion is dirty stuff, too - Jesus’ own body and blood, given in return for betrayal, false arrest, humiliation and public execution. This is the God who presides over our meal today/tonight and over every Eucharist: a God who entered a world of sin and injustice by being born in a dirty barn; a God who socialized with unclean people, dirty people; a God who washed dirty feet, was betrayed with a dirty kiss, and sentenced to death with dirty tricks by religious and political leaders; a God who was hung on a dirty cross to die a dirty death on a dirty hill outside a dirty town.
That is what makes this Eucharist different from all others. It is a reminder that God’s love in Christ reaches out to claim us not in spite of human sinfulness, but because of the sins of the world, the dirt of the world, the dirt on our hands, hearts, minds and souls - even the dirt on the soles of our feet. God’s love is total and absolute. The love of God in Christ is a basic, foundational, fundamental, radical fact of our lives. God sent Jesus into the world because everyone needs to be loved. Christ’s love for us extends from head to toe; literally, from head to toe.
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