The writing of a love story...

She stood there - hair covered by her knitted hat, her heavy black coat hung over her pink fleece sweatshirt as if it weighed a hundred pounds - staring into space.  I stood next to her, pressing the starred number one button on the elevator.

Down.  We were both going down from floor number six where we had spent hours together.  I glanced at her worriedly out of the corner of my eyes.  She took a long breath as we passed floor number three.

With a nod she says, "He'll be ok, doncha think?" as if to reassure herself.

"The doctors are doing everything they can.  He's in good hands," I responded as I brushed the hair off her cheek.

"I don't know what I'd do without him, ya know..." she says, still staring at the closed elevator doors.

"I know, I know..."

And I remember the love story that had just been told to me.  It's the kind of love story that seems so ordinary, while all the while remarkable in every way.  This is the kind of love that still holds hands at eighty; the kind of love I always dreamed of.  

My heart hurt in the good kind of longing way as I watched and listened to them finish one another's sentences, as only true lovers can.

As we sat next to his hospital bed, I had innocently asked, "How did you two meet?"  Maybe nobody had asked this eighty-something old couple that question in a long time, because the question was met with a sly grin from the man in the hospital bed.

"Now, that's a funny story," he says, as he looked over at his wife who was shaking her head at him.

He proceeded to tell me that some friends had given him her number as a dare.  She wouldn't date anyone; her standards were too high; she would only marry a teacher or doctor.  He proceeded to tell me that he told those boys, "Now, that's the kind of girl I would like to meet."

He took the number and set it on his desk for a few weeks before deciding one Sunday afternoon to give her a call. 

I made him back track in the story a bit...making sure I had it right...  Yes, he called her out of the blue, never having met her.

At this point the wife interjects into his storytelling: "My father walked through the kitchen and asked with whom I was on the phone.  I said, 'I don't know.  Some gentleman.'"

The husband laughed.  "Some gentleman.  Little did she know."  He continued to tell me he drove out to her house to take her for a ride, ended up helping her father finish building their house, and married her four months later.

"Four months?" I asked, shocked.

"Yes, four months," looking over at his wife who was smiling at him, "There's never been anyone for me, but her."

She shook her head again, "Now stop, dear."

"We're still together after all these years.  That's a long time, ya know?" he says looking at me.

Yes, I knew.  And as I sat there in the midst of all that love, I knew that there must have been hard times along the way.  Times when they wanted to walk away.

And I was so thankful neither of them had. 

I didn't know them when they were younger, when they courted, or when they had babies.  I didn't know them when they built their house, when they planted gardens, or hung drywall in the church basement.

I have only known them in these last years of their life.

I have only seen the end of their love story... 

So, as she stepped out of the elevator, I rubbed her back a bit, "You gonna be ok?"

"Yes.  Yes.  I'll be fine....

as soon as he comes home."

We walked together to the parking lot.  As I watched her shuffle to her car, I couldn't help but imagine her husband reaching out to grab her hand as he walked alongside her.

"Don't you take him," I pleaded with God.

I just couldn't bear for the story to end...not quite yet.

The Fourth

I intentionally do not post all my messages (sermons) from Sunday mornings, however after a few requests for the written version - here it is.  This was originally preached on November 13th at Epiphany Lutheran Church, based on Matthew 24: 14-30.


Okay - so I’m just going to say it.  The third servant - I feel sorry for him.  Not only do I feel sorry for him, I kinda like him too.  I’d probably do the same thing if the guy I’m most scared of in the world just handed me the equivalent of 20 years wages.  What in the world am I supposes to do with that much money? 


From most peoples’ vantage point he’s done nothing to deserve this harshness and wrath.  And yet, he’s thrown into the darkest regions of the universe by none other than... God...?

I mean, isn’t that how we always read this?  We assume that the wealthy landowner is God.  I wonder how God feels about this characterization?  

I’m sure God gets angry and is disappointed with us sometimes, but wanting us to live in fear?  To be scared stiff?  No.  I’m confident this isn’t what God wants for us.  So, I’d like to hold out the possibility that maybe the Master isn’t God.  

In this parable we also have the two ‘wise’ servants - the ones who do the ‘right’ thing.  They are given enormous amounts of money, more than they could ever or should ever be able to earn in the course of their lives.  And they make more....  Good for them.  And, good for the master.  

I guess I wonder who else is it good for?  It certainly doesn’t say.  

Over the years we’ve heard this preached as - take what God has given you and use it, do more with it!  Multiply it.  Give it away.  That’s valid; God does want us to do that.  

However, I believe there’s more to it, because I have a question.  What if you have nothing?  What if you haven’t been given an astronomical amount of money?  Or talent?  Or joy?  Or...anything?

What if you already live in no-man’s land?  There are plenty who live this way - on the fringes, skating by, lucky to have two pennies to scrape together.  There are plenty in the world who are already gnashing their teeth and weeping as we sit here.

And then there’s the idiotic third servant.  You know, the guy who heads out to the field, digs a hole and buries the treasure.  He wants nothing to do with it.  Obviously he has done the wrong thing.  I mean, seriously, who goes out and buries treasure?  

Everyone.  Everyone...seriously.  Especially during this time period - if someone entrusted something to your care it was because they trusted that you would protect it at all costs.  Burying it was common.  

Those hearing this parable would’ve assumed the third servant was doing the right thing.  So, when Jesus says the third servant gets thrown into the darkness everyone is shocked and surprised.  

So, how about a surprise this morning?  I mean, that’s the point of parables really.  To wake us up, to broaden our perspectives, to make us think about God and God’s world.  Once we start to assume we know what God’s story is all about then we’ve “predictibilized” the Gospel.  We’ve made it the ‘good news according to Christine’ or the ‘good news according to_____”.   

What if the good news today is:

The third servant is Jesus.  Is this possible?  

Let’s just play around with this a bit... 

The third servant guards something precious with his whole life - just like Jesus.

The third servant pushes back at those with great power - just like Jesus.

The third servant is tossed aside, discarded, left for dead - just like Jesus.

The third servant is misunderstood and mocked for years and years - just like Jesus.

I mean, could it be that there is more to the third servant than we assume?

If Jesus is the third servant, he can’t be talking to God... since Jesus is God.  So it means he’s taking on someone powerful and mighty and wealthy.  

Maybe the words the third servant would spit out today would be: 

“Do you know how scared everyone is of you? How your big feet squash them down?  You steal money that’s not yours.  People work in the heat and filth of this world, just so you can get more.  And then, you cut the needy out of your budgets. 

Well, I’m smarter than that. I’m not going to work for you. I’m going to try another way.  Don’t worry - I don’t steal.  Your money is back there, buried.  Get it yourself.”

I mean...what if Jesus was saying that?  It’s not really a leap – just a different way of hearing it.

Of course, he’s going to get fired for talking that way to the boss.  Don’t those who speak up against injustices always get thrown into the outermost regions of the universe?

In this parable the rich get richer.... and the poor get poorer... And if we don’t like that ending, then I believe the question to us is, “What are we going to do about it?”

The disparity is great in this parable and here in this world.  And I have a huge problem preaching that by our just being more generous with our money then things will be better for those on the bottom.

The good news has to be more than just ‘give generously’.  Jesus didn’t have to die for us to learn how to give money away.  People in Jesus’ time did give; many of us already give....

Plus, if faithful servants are those who get returns on their investments, then we’re all in trouble in today’s unsteady economy.

Maybe the good news today is about us not being like the first two servants - who produce in excess and use money to keep the system going...

The system was corrupt in Jesus’ day.  Poor servants made the world go ‘round.  Unfortunately, the system is still corrupt today.  Poor servants still make the world work the way we want it to work.  

Did you know that every single one of us has slaves working for us?  You heard that right.  

Here’s one - make-up.  I wear it most days.  Many of us do.  Did you know that many of the minerals used in make-up come from mines in India that have been worked by children?

From the smart phone, to the cup of coffee we drink, to the t-shirts we wear, to computers... Honestly, I could go on.  And on.  The truth of the matter is that we unknowingly buy products which make our lives easier and simultaneously injure another.

There isn’t a single solitary one of us who hasn’t unwittingly been one of the ‘generous two servants’....giving from what we have, but not necessarily knowing where’s it’s come from.

The third servant knows where things come from.

This coming Saturday we’re hosting a Fair Trade Fair here.  People can come and buy holiday gifts and ALL the profits go to support small-scale farmers and artisans, so they can be productive, self-sufficient members of their communities.  

If you know nothing about Fair Trade or even if you are unsure about what it means, let me tell you that at its core it is a method of doing business with justice and morality.  The business practices oppose cruel working conditions, support women’s rights, do not engage in slave labor, and promote good stewardship of resources and the environment. 

The entire principal is built upon equity.  Not wealth; not on making more and more.  It’s giving every one a fair shot at living well.  Not living large, but living fully.

There’s a difference. 

All the items - from baskets to jewelry, from textiles to kitchen-wares, from nativities to coffee have all been produced and crafted by individuals who have been trampled upon, who have been weeping and gnashing their teeth...

And in some small way we have a chance this weekend to protect the thing God treasures most.  God’s people.  We...who in many ways can act like the first and second servant are given the opportunity to be - 

The fourth servant.  

What?!  No, fourth servant?

Ah, there must be.  Today, my dear friends, we must be the forth servants.  We must be the ones who follow after the third servant.  Who is this forth servant?

The fourth servant doesn’t only give from what we have.  We give up our right to have more.

The fourth servant doesn’t make more money to live a comfy life and then gives away want he or she doesn’t want.  We learn to live with less, so that others can live with more.  

The fourth servant doesn’t only ensure his or her kids get to go college, but works to ensure all children are afforded a good education.  

You may say that I am taking liberties with today’s Gospel...maybe I am.

But what if, no-mans land isn’t no-man’s land to the people who live there?  What if the fourth servant went to the place where people are weeping and gnashing their teeth?  What if God’s calling fourth servants today? 

And, what if that forth servant was you? 

It’s a hard road to go.  It involves sacrifice, and thinking, and work and a whole lot of compassion for people we may never meet in this lifetime.  But thank God Almighty that the third servant has been there already and is still there willing to work with us.  It’s time to write a new chapter to this parable.  AMEN.

Love not as work, but as art (I'm still figuring this out)

based on the poem "I Believe" by Elizabeth Alexander and retooled by 'me'.

The Gospel, I tell those who pass,

is peculiar.  It's the Good News

in which we find our true selves

(though Sterling Brown said

"Every 'I' is a dramatic 'I'").

digging in the clam flats

That mud, sinking mud, we call life

For the shell that snaps,

emptying the proveerbial pocketbook along the way.

Good news is what you find

in the dusty crevices of your heart,

and under sandaled feet,

Which hardly seems the place for Gospel to be.

Overheard on the bus,

God in the details, the only way

To get from here to there.

Good News (and now my voice is rising)

is not all love, love, love

and I'm sorry the dog died (even though I am).

The Gospel (here I hear myself the loudest) is the song

which makes the human sing:

"Are we not of delight to each other?"

This poem, in it's original form, was shared with me by one of my dearest and truest friends and I am eternally grateful for the ways in which it continues to speak to me.  

Why Growing a church is a bit like eharmony (or match.com or any dating website)

When I was in college there was never a lack of boys to date...and not because of how I looked or how smart I was or what parties I attended.

There was never a  lack of boys to date because we were all in the same boat.

Single.  Relatively free from responsibility.
Every day I could step out of my sorority house and meet someone new, someone interesting, someone intriguing (and possibly cute too).

But, let's face it.  As we get older, it's not that way.  If you aren't hooked into a relationship by the time you're out of graduate school, then it's much harder (if you're married, just trust me on this).  If you want to meet someone new, then you'll have to take some drastic measures.

You may even have to turn to eharmony or match.com.  ICK.

To do that then you have to be willing to admit very publicly that you want to be in a relationship with someone.  You have to admit that you're looking... that you want to be loved and accepted and known.

It is at this point you realize how much effort it takes to build a relationship.  It is also at this point you realize how easy you used to have it (those tears cried over the returned lavaliere hardly seem catastrophic now).

I don't know if it was ever 'easy' to grow a church, but I do know that we seem to think it used to be easier.  I do know that how we built relationships in the past are different than how we build them today.

I'm not saying the church needs to set up an eharmony profile and see if anyone wants to date us, but what I am saying is we can't sit around and wait for people to just show up.

They aren't going to just show up.  If we're going to find the people who are 'looking' then we're going to have to say we're 'looking' too.

If we want to share the good news to all the world that they are:
utterly known, completely forgiven, entirely freed, and forever loved, then we're going to have to put in the effort.

We're going to have to put ourselves out there first and say, "Hey.  So, it's sort-of hard for me to talk about this...I don't have all the answers, but I can share a bit about how God helped me through something similar."

Those might not be the words you would use - you'll have to come up with your own 'profile'.

I guess you don't need to come up with a 'profile'.  We can be content to sit inside our church buildings and hope we'll bump into someone to love, someone to share with, someone to serve with.

That probably won't happen though.  We're not in college anymore.
The people are out there for you to meet.
Go.  Meet them.  Share the love of Christ with them.
Don't let your insecurities hinder you.

Because in the end... the Church is the site that's got a handle on love.  Not eharmony.

Cookies anyone?

Tomorrow is my oldest son's 14th birthday (I have absolutely no idea how this happened...I swear he was 4 years old just last week) and it's also the date my  mom is retiring.  For some reason, that has been a bit lost on me, I am amazingly excited for her.

This evening I stood in the kitchen, making a chocolate chip cookie cake for my son to take to the Confirmation retreat tomorrow (yes, he's a trooper for spending his birthday at confirmation).  I used the recipe my mom taught me - the one I have memorized; the one that is dubbed the 'best cookies in the world'; the one my mom makes; the one my kids say they are going to make when they have kids.

And I remembered how it used to go when I was very little...

Every Monday when I was a kid (actually, I don't know if it was every Monday or not, it just feels that way when I think about my childhood) my mom and I would make cookies.

She let me measure out the ingredients and even crack the eggs.  She held the bottle of vanilla under my nose and we both agreed it was the best smell on earth.  I'd lick the beaters.  And we would each steal a few chocolate chips.

My mom says she doesn't really remember this next part, but I do.

Once she slyly whispered to me with a grin, "You know, they always put a few extra chocolate chips in the bag just for moms and daughters who are making cookies together."  And I believe I looked at her with awe, thinking I was the luckiest girl on the planet.  And maybe I was.  Maybe I am.

I've carried that memory, however clear or faded it might be my whole life.  It says everything about her. Everything about me.  Everything about my children.  See, I  may have some of the details wrong, but the truth is...that doesn't matter at all, because what I remember is how I felt.  I felt as if there was nothing that could ever go wrong; that everything was possible in the kitchen with my mom.

That feeling is what matters.

This evening, as I stood there with brown sugar and cracked eggshells, my youngest son saunters into the kitchen and says, "Oooo.  Yum.  Can I smell the vanilla?"  And I almost cried.

And then as my oldest - my son who is more a man than a baby - snagged a few chocolate chips and glanced at me with the teenage head bob, I knew why I was so happy.

I don't really need my mom to come and bake cookies in my kitchen with me... but she could.
And I don't really need my mom to help me decorate my house...but she could.
Just as I don't really need anyone to share a Mountain Dew with me...but she could.

Maybe we never overgrow wanting that feeling of 'it's all about you and me, baby...'.  My childhood, my mom, my child who is no longer a child, all wafted through the kitchen mixed with the aroma of freshly baking cookies.  This is what it is to be happy.  My mom and dad taught me that.

It sounds like I think my mom's retirement is all about me, doesn't it?  I don't mean it to sound that way.  I'm good with written words...not always with spoken words.  And so on the eve of my son's birthday and my mom's retirement, I say~

Cookies anyone?

Love you, Mom.

The gift

If you are a woman then it is quite probable, if not a 100% certainty, that you have been invited to one of those home parties.  You know the ones - everything from jewelry to baskets to make-up to kitchen gadgets can be had.  And it's all centered around some conversation, come tasty snacks, and a nice glass of wine.

If you are not a woman...then it is quite probably, if not a 100% certainty, that a woman in your life has gone to one of these and bought something.

They aren't really my thing, but...I go.  Mostly to see friends.  I've even hosted these parties before...not because I want to earn points and get more stuff, but to support friends who are sales representatives.  Plus, sending my children out with their dad and having an evening with friends to catch up is akin to gold.

So, my friend came over to set up her jewelry; I had the snacks ready; the kids were set to go to pizza and a movie with their dad....and, my youngest son wouldn't go.  UGH.  Best laid plans.  All he wanted to do was stay with me.

I tried to explain to him how boring it would be for him - a bunch of women trying on necklaces and braclets, talking 'girl-talk,' and eating foods he wouldn't like.

I didn't matter.  There was no budging him.  So, the other two left and he stayed.

He watched as the representative took pieces to people to try on and my friends tried them on.  He watched as peoples 'oohed' and 'aahed' over all the pretty things.  Quickly he figured out a way to 'help'. He started picking out what he deemed the prettiest of things and took them to my friends, helping them get them on.

He was a very good salesmen.

At one point he disappeared up to his room, only to return with all the money from his piggy bank.  He gave it to the representative so he could buy me a pair of little silver cross earrings.  I saw what he was doing and quickly said, "Oh sweetie.  You don't have to do that.  I can buy them with the points I get.  Plus, you don't have to use your money."

And then...he started to cry.

Big, large, crocodile tears.

I was confused.

"I want to get them for you, Mommy.  Don't you love them?  They are Jesus earrings."

My friend, the sales representative, pulls him aside and whispers, "You have been such a good helper.  I pay all my helpers, but if you would rather use the money I would give you to get those earrings, you can do that...".

Essentially, she gave the earrings to him for free, so he could give them to me.  He wanted them to be a gift from him to me.

I wear those earrings at least three times a week - for the past 4 years and every time I put them on I think about him.  And when he sees the earrings, he smiles and says, "Those are the earrings I gave to you."

And when he says that it's like he's saying, "I love you," in a whole other way.

My friend who is the sales rep, she says she still tells that story at parties.  She says it was one of the sweetest things she ever saw.

Take the gift.  Don't refuse.  Just smile and say 'thanks' and hold the giver super tight.  Because it's never about the gift...it's about what's behind the gift.

Falling into Jesus

Sermon from August 7 - Based on Matthew 14: 22-33 (although it is not my practice to blog sermons...after a few requests for the written version - here it is).

Poor, poor Peter.  This guy gets such a bad rap...if only he had a bit more faith, or trusted a bit more then surely he could’ve walked upon the water, through the violent storm, in the pitch black of the night to Jesus....

Yeah - I don’t think so.  Because last time I checked people were never made to walk on water.  I’m not so sure Peter sinks because he’s afraid or lacks faith...is it possible he sinks because he’s supposed to.  

Peter’s sinking doesn’t surprise Jesus at all... Jesus immediately reaches out his hand and catches Peter.  

Have you ever had one of those falling dreams?  You know, the kind where you’re dead asleep and then all of a sudden you are in a free fall?  Something wakes you up, your heart is beating about a million miles and hour, and you are so thankful you are no longer falling.

Something about falling brings our fragility straight to the forefront. 

Which is actually one of the things that is so intriguing about Peter...and this may be a bit different than you’ve thought about it before, but I think it’s possible that Peter knows he’s going to fall.  

Really, let’s think about this, because maybe he just happens to be one of the smartest in the bunch.  

Remember the boat the disciples are in is getting tossed and turned about in a violent storm.  They have been fighting the storm all night, they are tired, and they presume they’ve been left alone.

Their little boat could capsize at any moment and they could be swallowed up.  Their, and our, worst nightmare is about to come true.

So, when Jesus shows up things are still crazy violent.  The wind is still whipping, the rains are still bearing down on them, it is still the dead of night!  

Jesus’ presence at the beginning doesn’t automatically calm down their lives.  Don’t we all know that?!

Every bit of reason tells Peter he is going to die - whether he gets out of the boat or stays in the boat.  So he chooses to go from total chaos into complete and utter insanity.  

Faced with the choice between going through the storm in the boat or going through the storm with Jesus, Peter’s picking Jesus.

Peter picks falling...into Jesus.

I don’t think we like to admit this very often, but sometimes falling is the best thing that ever happens to us.  Now, I am not advocating, jumping out of a boat on a stormy sea, but the clear choices in life aren’t the hard ones.

The choices which are so hard, so scary, are those in which no matter what we do we feel as if we are doomed.  It’s like Peter - there’s a mess staying in the boat and a mess getting out of the boat.

When choices are clear, when life is going smoothly it’s easy (or maybe easier) to profess our belief in God.  But when choices aren’t clear, when life keeps hitting us with one thing after another, I think we’re more apt to say, “God, why aren’t you doing something?” or “I just don’t know what to do.”

I really hate this, but it’s been my experience and people have told me the same thing and honestly, it is the witness of the entire Bible - 

Storms are often when we most encounter God.  The closest I’ve ever felt to God was in the worst times of my life.  I wish that wasn’t true, but it is.

Peter - about to lose his life - finally knows that his whole life, his whole being, is utterly in Jesus’ hands.  The only one who can save him in Jesus...and he finally knows it.  “Lord, save me.”  

Lord, save us.

Save us from the things we know we need saving from and the things we don’t.  

Peter’s worries that night were all about the storm...I don’t think he stopped worrying just because Jesus had him, but I do think he knew he’d make it.  

So what are your worries? What’s your storm? What’s the thing that gives you the ‘falling dream’?

Now here’s the thing - Peter picks Jesus - he makes a choice...seemingly the right one.  Choose Jesus - isn’t that what we often say.  Well, seriously, of course I want to choose Jesus...I sometimes just don’t  know where he is or what if I make the wrong choice.  I am in a storm after all and can’t really see straight...

I actually don’t think this is about our choice.  This is about Jesus‘ choice.  Jesus‘ choice to be with us no matter whether we stay in the boat or get out of the boat; whether we go left or right; whether we stay or we go.

Jesus is actually on the water and in the boat.  

Where’s Jesus in all you are going through?

Wherever you are.

The promise I want you to hear today is, Jesus is with you in it, even if you can’t see him, feel him; even if when your trust falters, even when you’re fairly certain that God’s got bigger things to worry about then what you’re going through...

I was thinking about this - about Peter’s willingness and unwillingness to trust, about the storms of life, and about how sometimes it really is hard to know how we’re going to make it when we just feel like our heads are under water and we’re drowning.  

I was reminded of this image someone once used to talk about trusting our faith.  And I think it is about that, but I think it’s actually more about God’s faithfulness to us.

So maybe this is an image, a story, a vision, that you can carry with you.

All of my children can swim - they are great swimmers.  We started them early...

When they were learning the lifeguards stood in the water, put their arms out and said, “Come on.  Get in.  You will be fine.”  And they were.  Maybe when we’re younger we just don’t know any better.

Soon they were swimming...maybe not across the Chesapeake, but swimming none-the-less.  They learned if they moved their arms and legs with enough vigor and determination - basically if they thrashed around enough- then they wouldn’t sink or swallow too much water.

However, when it came time for them to learn how to float on their backs the experience was entirely different.  The whole thing is counter-intuitive.  We want to thrash to stay afloat, but if we do that when we’re on our backs, then we end up swallowing a bunch a water and sinking.

Lying on our backs we are sure we are going to fall...sink straight to the bottom of the pool.

But eventually, if we give up control and trust that the water really will support us, really will hold us up, really can do what seems totally impossible, then we float!

We realize that the thing we need to float has been there the whole time and it has nothing to do with us.  Floating has everything to do with the water. 

You making it through the storms of life has everything to do with God’s promise in Jesus - never will I leave you, never will I forsake you, I am with you until the end of the age.  

We have been caught by a God who will move heaven and earth; wind and water to save us. 

Save us Lord, because we need you so.  Amen.