reallifepastor

September 21–the first day of autumn.  As trees molt their leaves, as hostas and other flowering shrubs go to ground, as grass turns brittle and pale, as mosquitos go wherever it is they go (thank goodness!)…we are reminded of the vital role dormancy, rest, and death play in the cycle of life. In autumn, days shorten, vegetation rots, all nature begins its inward turn so that–from death– new life can emerge come spring.

Holy One, we confess that we don’t always enjoy the way things shut down in autumn–or any season of our spiritual lives.  The riot of color that comes with spring, the full-on joy of playing in summer?  Those are great!  Spring and summer are easy to love.  Even winter’s not so bad… everything looks dead then, but we know that Spring is just one season away.  With autumn, though, we have to watch things die…and that’s not easy.

Here’s what we ask today, Holy One, give us the courage to look at our lives and–as honestly as we can–identify what is in the process of dying. Whatever that dying thing is, show us how new life will someday emerge from it.  And give us the grace to be patient in our waiting for that new life.

We have other concerns to lift into your care today–concerns for ourselves, for our friends, for those who live in a perpetual winter with seemingly no hope of spring.  In the quiet of this moment, we lift all our concerns into your care.  (Silence.)

It is so good to be back in this place. I have missed you! I can’t wait to tell you about my adventures—and maybe a few of the misadventures. And I can’t wait to hear about yours!

But, oh my goodness! Where do we start? How do we go about this re-entry process? Do we just pick up where we left off, ignoring all we’ve experienced, all we’ve learned during the sabbatical? Or do we dwell only on what’s happened the past four months? That’s a real temptation for me. Sabbatical was wonderful! I had a good plan, but things took on a life of their own and my time away ended up far surpassing my wildest hopes.

Here’s how far sabbatical surpassed my expectations. When it came time to pack for Ireland, I didn’t want to go. I wanted to come back to work! “Oh, well,” I said to Allen. “We planned this trip. It’s already paid for. I guess we’ve got to go.” I’m glad we did. So glad that I’d LOVE to tell you all about it. I’d also LOVE to hear about your sabbatical experiences. But would dwelling on what happened during sabbatical be the best way to live into our post-sabbatical reality?

I suspect we’ll find our way into post-sabbatical life neither by ignoring the sabbatical nor by dwelling on it. The best path likely lies somewhere in between. In the meantime, today’s Gospel lesson might give us some insight as we begin navigating our re-entry process.
The passage begins: “After this the Lord appointed seventy others and sent them on ahead of him in pairs to every town and place where he himself intended to go.” “After this, Jesus appointed 70 others….” After what? And from whom were the 70 other?

Let’s jump back and read the verses just prior to today’s passage:

As they were going along the road, someone said to him, ‘I will follow you wherever you go.’ And Jesus said to him, ‘Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.’ To another he said, ‘Follow me.’ But he said, ‘Lord, first let me go and bury my father.’ But Jesus said to him, ‘Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.’ Another said, ‘I will follow you, Lord; but let me first say farewell to those at my home.’ Jesus said to him, ‘No one who puts a hand to the plough and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.’                (Luke 9:57-62)

So, Jesus sends out the 70 after all these people who say they want to follow him find every excuse in the world not to. The 70, then, are other from the excuse-makers in that they are ready to forsake everything to prepare the way for Jesus RIGHT NOW.

And when I say “forsake everything,” I do mean everything. Listen: “Go on your way…4Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals.” Sounds kind of harsh, doesn’t it? Why no purse (aka, money), bag, or sandals?

After this summer, I think I understand what Jesus was talking about. In preparation for the trip to Ireland, I bought this (Purse).

I don’t usually carry a purse—it’s just one more thing for me to lose–but I thought it might be helpful to carry my passport, snacks, that sort of thing. And it’s got a long strap, so I can sling it over my neck. I’m less likely to lose it that way. Here’s the thing about purses, though. No matter their size, they collect things. Lots of things. Things like receipts, money, books, puzzle books, pens, Kindles and—should you choose to purchase one—an Irish whistle. Purses are super-magnets for stuff. (The money part wasn’t a problem. That’s why God created ATMs, right?)
Don’t even get me started about bags!

We were told by the tour company to use a small suitcase and to “pack light.” C’mon! You can’t have it both ways! Do you want a small suitcase or do you want a suitcase that’s “packed lightly?” Allen and I spent a lot of time in Ireland fretting over our small, tightly packed suitcases… In the end, we had to mail a bunch of stuff home—including dirty laundry—just to make room in our bags for more stuff. “Bags” just mean baggage—in every sense of the word.

Sandals. (Sandals)

Yeah. These sandals are pretty ratty-looking. And this is pretty much how they looked at the beginning of the summer. But they are so comfortable and have good support for my problematic feet. I just couldn’t part with them. In fact, I wore them so much this summer, I have sandal tans!
But sandals don’t always work in Ireland. There are some sunny days and warm weather….but that weather can change in an instant and become cold and rainy. A couple of days into the trip, I realized I wasn’t going to be able to use my beloved ratty sandals on the tour…which means they became yet one more thing to lug around.
So, when Jesus sends the 70 out without purses, bags, or (we’ll assume) extra sandals– his message is clear: If you take stuff with you on this journey, it will only attract more stuff. It’s a scientific fact: stuff attracts stuff. After a while, you’ll be so focused on dealing with the stuff that you’ll forget why you were sent in the first place: to prepare the way for Jesus.
In addition to forsaking material things, Jesus also warns the 70 “not to greet anyone on the road.” Well, that just sounds rude, doesn’t it? Aren’t Christians supposed to be friendly?

After my travels this summer, I get this part, too. When you greet someone you don’t know, you never know where the conversation is going to lead….especially if folks find out you’re a pastor.    It’s so easy for someone else’s agenda to supplant your plans. If you greet someone you DO know, though, losing focus is even easier: you have to catch up on news, complain about politicians, gossip. All these things are important, but ultimately, they’re distractions.

I don’t think Jesus is advocating rudeness here. Instead, I think he’s warning the 70 against allowing other people to set your agenda for you. If you’re following someone else’s agenda, you’re not following Jesus, right? Certainly, a lot of the work of following Jesus involves greeting and serving others….but if other people’s agendas take over, we are distracted from fulfilling our primary mission: preparing the way for Jesus.

So, Jesus sends out the 70 reminding them that anything that diverts their attention away from preparing the way for him is extraneous. I don’t think Jesus is saying that purses (or money), bags, extra sandals, and openness to others are, in and of themselves, bad things. I do think he’s saying that if any of those things gets in the way of working for the kin-dom, then we’ve missed the point. If we want to follow Jesus, that has to be our primary focus. If it’s not, we’re nothing more than discipleship dilettants.

Sabbatical was great! I had some amazing experiences that I can’t wait to share with you. But the big take-away from sabbatical for me is this: Where faith is concerned, dilettantism is dangerous. With all that’s going on the world—all that’s happened in just the last four months—people of faith can’t be distracted from the important work of discipleship: sharing God’s love with others, seeking justice, and acting others into well-being. If people of faith don’t live their faith with thoughtfulness, what will become of Iraq and Syria and Liberia? If people of faith don’t live their faith with integrity and authenticity, What will become of Ferguson or Gaza or Jerusalem? If people of faith don’t live their faith full-on and focused, What will happen to all the children and families without homes or healthcare or food?

As I’ve visited churches this summer and thought about the church (universal)’s role in the world, I’ve become convinced that people of faith have let ourselves get distracted by things that just don’t matter. At one church I attended, the service began with 12 minutes of announcements. I hadn’t come to hear announcements. I had come to hear the good news. I had come to hear something that would help me make sense of what was going on in Ferguson. I had come to hear something that would inspire me to live my faith with more authenticity and vigor. Instead, I heard 12 minutes of announcements. (In contrast, when I proofed the Tidings this week, I was astonished all over again to see just how much this congregation does to act others into well-being.)

So, what does all this mean as we begin our journey of settling back into the rhythm of our life together here at Pilgrimage? All the ins and outs of it, all the details….we’ll figure that out as we go. We’ll talk, we’ll share stories, we’ll party. And yes. There WILL be photographs!

But the important thing, the crucial thing, the absolutely necessary thing is this: in everything we do—whether it’s navigating our post-sabbatical life together or anything else—in everything we do, the Number 1 thing must always be preparing the way for Jesus. The reason we are here is to share God’s love with others, to seek justice for all people, especially those on the margins of society…the reason the church exists is to act everyone on the planet—and the planet, too—into well-being. Anything—anything—that gets in the way of that is extraneous.

So, what happens when we live our faith full-on and focused? What happens when we don’t let ourselves become distracted from our mission of preparing the way for him?
When Jesus sent those 70 focused disciples to prepare the way for him, Luke tells us they “returned with joy.” He also says, “They returned with joy, saying, ‘Lord, in your name even the demons submit to us!” but I’m going to have to get my preaching chops back before I can tackle a statement like that! For today, it is enough to know that if we go out to prepare the way for Jesus, the way of love and peace and justice….if we go out to fulfill our mission free of all distractions, every time, every time! We, too, will “return with joy.”

In the name of our God, who creates us, redeems us, sustains us, and hopes for our wholeness. Amen.

Kimberleigh Buchanan © 2014

Journal Entry:  5/23/14

The “Dear Jean” Concert at Union Church in Berea, KY, tonight was a phenomenal experience!  Jean Ritchie lives in Berea and is a member of the church Rachel Small Stokes serves.  She’s had a stroke and is in her early 90s, I think.  Last night John McCutcheon, Susie Glaze, and Kathy Mattea (with some friends) sang many of Jean’s songs.  A wonderful, wonderful experience.

Some thoughts during the concert…

—7:28 p.m.  (concert started at 7:30)–Jean is wheeled in.  She gets a standing ovation.  I want to live my life in such a way that simply wheeling me in gets a SO.

–”Brightest and Best”–How can something that touches my center also bear me up on light?

–Jean Ritchie’s hands–I couldn’t see her face from where I was sitting, but I could see her hands.  They were loosely clasped, fingers entwined, gently following (directing?) the music.

–John McCutcheon picked up his mountain dulcimer to play only to discover it had a broken string.  An elderly woman in the audience just happened to have hers with her.  She offered it up, John took it and made some great music.  “A dulcimer for the cause,” he quipped.

–Kathy Mattea: “Music helps us process emotions.”

–Kathy told the story of doing a song with Jean.  Jean:  “You’re not doing it right.”  Kathy:  “Teach me.”  Jean did.  They sang the song together in performance….but there was no recording made.  Kathy:  “I like it like that.  It lives in my body.  My body remembers it.”

–Of “Now Is the Cool of the Day”–Kathy to Jean:  “What was going on when you wrote that song?  Were you just really, really mad?”  Jean:  “No.  I was ironing.  It was really hot.”  🙂

–Lesson I learned from the concert?  WE MUST SING TOGETHER!!!!

May 24, 2014  (Saturday, 8:22 p.m.)

On the way home today, Allen and I listened to most of the 2 CD set they gave us at the “Dear Jean” concert last night.  It’s lots of different artists doing “covers” of  songs Jean either wrote or popularized.  Amazing.  Judy Collins.  John McCutcheon.  Susie Glaze.  Kim and Reggie Harris.  Janis Ian.  And lots of other folks I hadn’t heard of, but who make beautiful music.

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I HIGHLY recommend the “Dear Jean” CD set.  All the tracks are terrific, but the most haunting of all of them is Suzie Glaze’s acappella singing of “West Virginia Cole Mine Disaster.”  That song undoes me every time I hear it.

I also HIGHLY recommend Kathy Mattea’s album “Coal.”  She does a great version of “Now is the Cool of the Day.”  Other tracks:  “The L and N Don’t Stop Here Anymore,” “Blue Diamond Mines,” and the beautifully devastating, “Red-Winged Black Bird.”

I also HIGHLY recommend anything by John McCutcheon….but I’ll say more–much more–about John later.

To learn more about Jean Ritchie, here’s a link to a Wikipedia article about her and the important work she did as a “Song Hunter” in Appalachia as well as Ireland, England, and Scotland:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jean_Ritchie

Sabbatical was great!  Having time to rest and play and make music and new friends…All my colleagues who have taken sabbaticals didn’t lie:  the last four months have renewed me as nothing else ever has.

…which means that I am ready to get back to work.  REALLY ready to get back to work!  I love my calling, I love my job, I love the people with whom I serve, I love the work of doing whatever we can to share God’s love with others.  I can’t wait to get back in the swing of things!

There’s SO MUCH to share.  If I shared it all right now, though, it’d be another four months before I got back to work.  So for now, let me just quote T. S. Eliot…

“We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.”  

Amen!

How blessed I am to serve such a wonderful church!  Thanks, Ugena.

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Numbers 6: 24-26

24 “‘”The Lord bless you
    and keep you;
25 the Lord make his face shine on you
    and be gracious to you;
26 the Lord turn his face toward you
    and give you peace.”‘

Reflection by Ugena Whitlock

Music With Friends

Numbers 6: 24-26 is not the passage on the devotional schedule for today. It is not unrelated, however, to Luke 24: 50-53, in which Luke describes the ascension of Jesus the Christ into heaven. As Jesus ascends, he blesses the disciples. When I came home to this morning’s worship service and sat down to write today’s devotional, I was reminded of this blessing in the Hebrew Scriptures, in which God tells Moses to instruct Aaron and his sons (the priests) to bless the people of Israel. Actually, I was reminded of a musical version of it that I heard a long time ago. Actually, I was reminded of it during today’s service, which was powerful and poignant. And musical.

Today, after many months of planning and fortifying ourselves for it, we bid Kim bon voyage, happy trails, hasta manana. Now, those of us who are teachers know that summers pass quickly; by the time we pack up the car and go get roasted in the sun on a crowded beach, fall is here. Sending Kim off is a very different circumstance, though, and we may already feel like this is going to be a long, hot summer without her. I think it made it easier for us to send her off-and maybe easier for her to head out-by sending her off with music.

Kim is a terrific pastor; she knows what’ll “preach” (I paid attention today). But after attending PUCC for only a little over a year, it is clear to me that music keeps her blood pumping. I wonder if anybody besides me grins a little when they see she has a song on the program some Sundays and thinks, “She’s slipped one in again…” I will share a story about last week’s choir performance that shows something of Kim’s “musical” pastoral interaction with us. Working together, Allen and Kim chose a new piece for us to sing last week, Let It Go (unrelated to the movie Frozen). We rehearsed it at several practices, but it was kind of complicated to get through from start to finish. As it turns out, we had only sung it completely one time, at the last rehearsal before we were to perform it last Sunday. Allen, who, if I knew who to write to nominate him for sainthood, I would, had scheduled one last, intense rehearsal before the service. Partly because one of the key soloists (me) was affected by every newly blooming plant in Georgia, and partly because it was an acapella song with a key change smack in the middle of it, we kind of petered out by the end. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on Allen’s face.

Kim, who was sitting in the back of the sanctuary listening to us rehearse, mustered up her kindest tone and suggested gingerly to our Director, “Maybe let them stop before the key change….?” There was a moment-just a moment-when I suspect we-the choir and her-panicked a little. Within an hour, that song had to be a whole lot better or half of it had to be cut. I’m not sure if she knew it, but she was pastoring us in that moment. Good pastors nudge you a little; really good ones get you to stick out your chin and tighten up your musical performance. Kim was, that day, a really good pastor. The choir sang that song like we had been working on it since Christmas. (It will perhaps lessen the inspirational nature of the story but make it honest to disclose for those of you who did not hear it that I only missed one note in the song. It happened to be a very important one, but I sang it with joy anyway.)

Today we sang her off. What I enjoyed about the service was that we all sang to her and she sang to us and we sang together to God. A couple of times she stopped us and gave the congregation a dose of “musical pastoring” about singing with the spirit, aka, putting the hymnals away and learning to clap on the off beats. We sang, of course, to God’s glory, yet we sang for Kim. With her, yes, and to her. But today, we sang for her, too. We will miss her for a few weeks, and we will look forward to her return. But one thing is for sure. When we think of her, we will do so with warm hearts-hearts that happen to be filled with music we made today with our friend.

Here is a rendition of The Lord Bless You and Keep You. Until we all meet again.

http://youtu.be/QB2FVlaPM-o

Holy One,

It’s Mother’s Day.  Chances are good that we’ve got some feelings about that…

Some of us feel gratitude:  for excellent mothering we have received– from birth mothers, adoptive mothers, grandmothers, surrogate mothers, and as one of our children said, “twin mommies.”   Bless all who feel grateful today, God.  GM/HP

Some of us feel deep joy:  the new mothers, those who have been given another year with an aging mom.  And though they’re the tiniest bit annoying, what with all that picture-showing, the grandmothers.  J  Some of us feel joy for technological advances like in vitro fertilization and for processes like adoption and foster parenting.  Some of the mothers among us feel great joy because we love our children so much and are so very proud of them.  Bless all who feel joy today, God.  GM/HP

Some of us feel guilt today:  for not being the best mother we could be… for not being the best daughter or son we could be…for something we can’t even name…  For all who feel guilty today, God, ease the weight of their guilt.  Surround them with your grace.  Remind them that they are loved.   GM/HP

Some of us are angry today:  because we didn’t get the mothering we needed…because our children don’t always appreciate what we do for them… because we feel called to be mothers, but our bodies or circumstances have prevented that from happening…  For those who are angry, God, help them learn from their anger, to understand the hurt that causes it, and to move forward in strength and love and insight.  GM/HP

Some of us feel sad today….because we never had a mother…or did have a mother who couldn’t seem to love us…or do have a mother whose dementia is taking her from us one memory at a time…  Some of us are sad because our mothers have died, or are alive but have never felt their full worth…  Some of the mothers among us are sad because they have lost their children in one way or another.  And some women who aren’t able to have children– having worked through their anger– now are feeling sad.  Holy One, please comfort all who come to this day with sadness.  GM/HP 

(Whisper)  Some of the mothers among us are so exhausted by their mothering they have now fallen asleep.  Give them pleasant dreams, God.   GM/HP

Some of us—women who have NOT been called to be mothers—are wondering just why this prayer has gone on so long.  What’s the big deal?  Bless them, too, God.  Affirm their decision not to have children.  Bless all the ways they have given and are giving the best of themselves to others by means other than parenting.  GM/HP

That last group is right, God—this prayer has gone on a long time.  And, long as it is, it likely still hasn’t given voice to all the feelings present in the room today.  In the quiet, Holy One, surround us with your love and care as we share with you all our feelings–all our joys, all our concerns, all of ourselves with you.  In silence, hear us.  (Silence)  GM/HP

Holy One, some of us call you Father;  some of us call you Mother;  and some of us don’t call you anything because we’re so confused about you most of the time….Thank you for answering our prayers– no matter where we are on our theological journeys.  For all we don’t know, we do know this:  Jesus was our brother.  We join our hearts and voices together as we pray the prayer he taught us:

Our Father/Mother, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.

Thy kin-dom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts

As we forgive our debtors.  Lead us not into temptation,

But deliver us from evil.  For thine is the kin-dom, the power, and the glory forever.  Amen.

            Koinonia.  It’s a Greek word that occurs in today’s Scripture lesson and describes the community created by the first followers of Jesus…a community characterized by devotion to the apostles’ teaching, fellowship, and breaking bread and praying together.  For those first century believers, community also meant “having all things in common, selling their possessions and goods and distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need, spending much time in the temple and having the goodwill of all the people.” Doesn’t that just sound great? 

            Doesn’t that just sound impossible? 

            Baptist preacher Clarence Jordan and a few other brave souls tried living as an Acts 2 community.  They even called themselves Koinonia.  An intentional interracial Christian farming community—Koinonia was established in southwest Georgia in 1942. 

            Interracial, southwest Georgia, 1942…What were they thinking, right?  But Clarence, a New Testament scholar, believed in the ideal of community described in Acts.  Clarence believed that if a community really could “devote themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship,” if they could “break bread and pray together,” if they could live and work together and have all things in common, selling their possessions and goods and distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need; if they could—as a community—seek the good of all the people….If the ideal of community presented in Acts 2 could be lived, Clarence thought, then “God’s will would be done on earth as it is in heaven.”  The world would be transformed.

        If you read the history of Koinonia Farm, you’ll see that living the ideal of Christian community described in Acts 2 isn’t easy.  At all.  As committed as Clarence and the rest of the Koinonians were to living in true community, where everyone worked and worshiped and lived out the Gospel together, they never really achieved it.  It wasn’t for lack of trying, though.  Those Koinonians met…and met and met… They prayed together and made decisions together and tried as best they could to live out the Gospel, but there seemed always to be dissension in the group, some kind of conflict among the members.  The turn-over rate at Koinonia was high.

         It’s true that the persecution Koinonia experienced for its views of racial equality in the 40s, 50s, and 60s put undue stress on the community.  But I suspect that many of the difficulties of living in community are inherent to the beast.  Trying to get people on the same page with ideas, work, money, relationships…theology?  That’s not easy.  Not even Jesus’ disciples achieved that, and there were only 12 of them…and they were in community with Jesus! 

          I don’t know.  Maybe Acts 2:42-47 is one of those scripture passages we’re supposed to read metaphorically, not literally.  Maybe Koinonia is something to think about more than it’s something actually to do.

          Except….What if we did?  What if we did seek in whatever communities we are a part to devote ourselves to the teachings of spiritual leaders and to extending hospitality to each other?  What if we did break bread and pray together?  What if we did sell our possessions and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need?  What if we did seek the “goodwill of all the people?”  What might happen if we did all these things in this community of Pilgrimage?  In the communities of our neighborhoods, our cities, our counties, our state?  What might happen if our countrycommitted itself to seeking the well-being of all its citizens?

        What might happen if we lived the ideal of community described in Acts 2 globally?

        Now that’s just going too far.  Global koinonia?  That’s just loony.  And, as radical as the image of community described in Acts 2 is, even it doesn’t go that far.  Obviously, the koinonia described in Acts 2 is about ideal Christian community…communities like Koinonia in south Georgia, or the monastery I visit in Indiana.  The author of Acts wasn’t talking about global koinonia….In the first century, no one even knew the world WAS a globe!

           But…what if?  What if we took this ideal of Christian community described in Acts 2 and applied it globally?  What might happen if we practiced global koinonia?

           In the last year of his life, Martin Luther King, Jr, wrote a book called Where Do We Go from Here?  In it, he chronicled the gains made by the Civil Rights Movement and envisioned the next steps for the movement.  The next steps of the Civil Rights Movement, the only way to ensure that all people are free, Dr. King believed, was working for economic justice.

           The last chapter of Where Do We Go from Here?is titled “The World House.”  In it, King writes:  “Some years ago a famous novelist died.  Among his papers was found a list of suggested plots for future stories, [including this one]:  ‘A widely separated family inherits a house in which they have to live together.’  This is the great new problem of [humankind].  We have inherited a large house, a great ‘world house’ in which we have to live together—black and white, Easterner and Westerner, Gentile and Jew, Catholic and Protestant, Muslim and Hindu—a family unduly separated in ideas, culture, and interest, who, because we can never again live apart, must learn somehow to live with each other in peace.

           “However deeply American Negroes are caught in the struggle to be at last at home in our homeland of the United States, we cannot ignore the larger world house in which we [also dwell].  Equality with whites will not solve the problems of either whites or Negroes if it means equality in a world society stricken by poverty and in a universe doomed to extinction by war.  All inhabitants of the globe are now neighbors.”

            “All inhabitants of the globe are now neighbors.”  What if we lived that way?  What if we lived as if all earth’s people inhabited one really big house, a World House?  What if all 7 billion of us devoted ourselves to the teachings of whatever faith we follow and sought out opportunities to fellowship with people who dwell in even the far rooms of our World House?  What if we all welcomed each other to the table in our large World House Kitchen, keeping our brothers’ and sisters’ dietary laws in mind?  What if all people of faith committed to pray to whatever gods they worship?  What if all inhabitants of World House sold their possessions and gave the proceeds to those who needed them?  What if every inhabitant of World House sought the goodwill of every other inhabitant? 

           If we lived as if all earth’s people inhabit the same house—that is, that we are all part of the same family—might we look differently at what’s happening in Ukraine right now or Syria?  Might we care more and do more to address issues of deprivation in developing countries?  Might we actively seek the well-being of the girls in Nigeria who were kidnapped and are now being sold?  Might we also actively seek the well-being of their captors and government officials who have been slow to respond?  If all earth’s people lived as if we inhabited a single house, might we also do a better job of seeking the goodwill of the house? 

            What might happen to this world if we Christians lived out the ideal of community offered in our Scriptures?  What might happen to this world if people of all faiths lived out the ideals of community in their traditions?

            I know.  It’s hard to help people locally, much less trying to help them globally.  How do we act all earth’s inhabitants into well-being?  For the well-meaning among us, thinking about acting the world into well-being can be overwhelming.  If you get overwhelmed by all that needs to be done, it might help to remember the bumper sticker:  “Think globally, act locally.”  Here’s a great story that illustrates thinking globally and acting locally.  Delicious Peace. [Show video.]  

http://www.folkways.si.edu/delicious-peace-coffee-music-and-interfaith-harmony-in-uganda/world/album/smithsonian

“On September 11, 2001, J. J. Keki, a Jewish Ugandan coffee farmer and musician, was visiting NewYork City. He was walking up to theWorld Trade Center as the planeshit the towers. When he returned toUganda, he felt compelled to bring differentreligions together in peace. He walkedfrom village to village, asking his Jewish,Christian, and Muslim neighbors if theywould be willing to form a Fair Tradecoffee cooperative. To date, more than 1,000farmers have joined Peace Kawomera (Delicious Peace). These coffee farmerswrite songs and sing about interfaithcooperation and the economic benefits ofFair Trade. J. J. says, “Use whatever youhave to create peace. If you have a body,use your body to bring peace, not to causechaos. If you have music, use your music tocreate peace. For us, we have coffee. We areusing coffee to bring peace to the world.”  (Jeffrey A. Summit, http://media.smithsonianfolkways.org/liner_notes/smithsonian_folkways/SFW50417.pdf)

      As the song “Get Up and Grow Coffee” from the Delicious Peace CD plays—J. J. Keki is the lead singer–I invite you to think about using whatever YOU have to create peace.  How might you act the fellow inhabitants of our World House into well-being?(Play: “Get Up and Grow Coffee!”) 

In the name of our God, who creates us, redeems us, sustains us, and hopes for the wholeness of our World House.  Amen.

Kimberleigh Buchanan  ©  2014

Acts 2:42-47

            Christ is risen!  Christ is risen indeed!Easter.Do you believe in it?  It’s not the easiest thing in the world to do, is it?  Jesus—Son of God—raised from the dead, appearing to people, walking through walls… For us scientifically-minded people, the idea of resurrection is hard to grasp, much less believein…which is why I often address that difficulty in Easter sermons.  Naming the elephant in the room gives people permission to look honestly at what they believe about Easter and—through that reflection—invites them toexperience it.

             I’m starting to wonder, though, if Easter is too late to address that particularelephant.  Maybe we need more time than one 20 minute sermon to figure out what gets in the way of experiencing Easter.  Maybe if we can figure out what prevents us from experiencing Easter before the big day, come Easter Sunday, we might just find that we believe in it all. 

             So, this year, we’re going to use the whole season of Lent to look at some of the things that prevent us from experiencing Easter.  Today, the first hurdle:  Failing to Learn from Wilderness Experiences.  And who better to teach us about learning from wilderness experiences than Jesus? 

             The story thus far:  Jesus is born, grows up, works until he’s 30, then heads to the Jordan River where his cousin John baptizes him.  Immediately after his baptism, maybe even before his clothes have dried, Matthew tells us that “Jesus is led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil.”

            What’s up with that?  Why this big temptation episode?  And why does it follow so closely on the heels of Jesus’ baptism?

             Let’s think about it for minute.  You’re Jesus, right?  All your life you’ve sensed that God has something special for you to do, something really special, so special that the people around you can’t imagine that thing for you.  Even so, you carry this sense of calling with you until one day it becomes so powerful, you head down to the river to be baptized.  You approach the river, wade into the water, face your baptizer, thenlet him lower you into the water.As you re-emerge–water flowing off your back and arms, dripping from your hair and face–you see God’s spirit descend like a dove; you hear a voice say:  “This is my child, the Beloved, with whom I am well-pleased.”

             In that moment, everything Jesus had sensed about his life is confirmed.  He is claimed by God.  Jesus learns that he really is called to something special—he is to be God’s proxy on earth.  It makes sense that Jesus would want to spend some time thinking about that calling; heading to the wilderness for some prayer and reflection makes sense. 

             But 40 days!  After 40 days of thinking about being God’s son, after 40 days of eating no food…in that weakened state, it’d be pretty easy to start thinking some wild, maybe grandiose thoughts about being THE Son of God.  That’s when the temptations start—when Jesus is full of himself and empty of food, when he’s spiritually strong and physically weak. 

Have you given up anything for Lent—TV or chocolate or French fries?  So, what have you been thinking about, dreaming about, obsessing about since Wednesday?  What are you thinking about right now?  When you’re tempted—and resist the temptation—it’s natural to obsess on the thing you’ve given up.  BUT…if you continue resisting the temptation, you can learn a lot about yourself.  You might, for instance, learn about an unhealthy dependence on ice cream or TV orFrench fries.  Once in touch with that dependence, you can explore the causes for it.  What is it that makes me feel like I’m not complete without this thing I’ve given up?  Why does this substance or experience have so much power in my life?   

What tempted Jesus?  He didn’t need to explore his relationship with ice cream or TV or French fries.  Those things didn’t exist yet.  So, what tempted Jesus? 

Across the centuries, there has been lots of speculation about Jesus’ temptations.  Why these three?  Why in this order?  What does each temptation represent?  Turning stone to bread, taking a header off the temple, world domination… What is the significance of Jesus’ temptations?  Theologian John Douglas Hall suggests that “there are not really three temptations, but three variations on the same basic theme.  The devil has a one-track mind…from the beginning, he tempts his victims to go for power.”  (Feasting on the Word, 44) 

Taking this tack, each temptation Jesus confronts is a question about how he will use his power:  Will he use it to serve himself (turning a stone into bread)?  Will he use it to make a spectacle of himself (taking a header off the temple)?  Will he use it to gain political power (world domination if he worships the tempter)?  

 Here’s what I wonder.  I wonder if Jesus knew how he would respond to temptation before he was tempted.   Do you think Jesus knew he would pass the temptation tests?  Were the temptations written up so that we could see how Jesus would respond, ordid they happen so that Jesus could see how Jesus would respond?  Did Jesus know for certain how he would use his power before the temptations, or did the temptations help him get clear about how he would use his power?In other words: Did Jesus learn from his wilderness experience?

If you look at his ministry from the 41^st day after his baptism until his death, it sure looks like he did.  Until the moment he died, the temptation to use his power in destructive, self-serving ways was always in front of Jesus.  And yet, he never chose to use his power in that way.   He always used it to advocate for the poor and marginalized.  He always used his power to preach and share God’s love with others.  By withstanding the temptations he confronted in the wilderness, Jesus learned not only that power had been given to him, but also why it had been given to him:  to use it to do God’s work in the world.  Period.

 There are some striking parallels between Jesus’ wilderness experience and the one we’ll begin on May 26^th:  “our” sabbatical.  Like Jesus’ time in the wilderness, the purpose of clergy sabbaticals is to give both pastor and congregation time to reflect on their calling to do God’s work in the world.  Given a break from our usual roles with each other, each of us—pastor and congregation—has time to think deeply about the work we have done with each other and to get some direction about to what work God is calling us next.  If we come together again in September rested, renewed and eager to embark on the next leg of our journey together as pastor and congregation, then our sabbatical will have been a rousing success.

As with Jesus’ wilderness experience, though, all of us will find ourselves tempted along the way.  My temptationwill be to keep working…to constantly ask Allen how you all are, to try to find preaching gigs while I’m away, to get a jump on sermon-writing for next Fall.  My main “job” on sabbatical will be to rest, renew, reflect.  If I don’t do those things–if I give in to the temptation to continue working–then the sabbatical will have been a bust; I will have learned nothing.  The only way to learn from temptations is to resist them.  If I resist the temptation to work during sabbatical, then I truly will learn from the experience….and you all will have a wiser, more energized pastor to lead you into the next phase of our journey together.

So, what temptations might you encounter in the wilderness of sabbatical?  The temptation to take your own sabbatical–to not show up until I return in September?The temptation to do nothing until I return?The temptation to make significant changes while I’m away?The temptation to pout?As you struggle with whether or not to give in to those temptations, remember this:  As powerful as some of those temptations will be, if you give in to them, this sabbatical will have been a bust, a failure.  If, on the other hand, you feel the temptations—andresist them—you’ll be able to learn from them….

What will we learn from sabbatical?  We can’t know for sure until we’ve gone through it.  We’ll have to compare notes in September.  I suspect, though, that all of us will learn something about our relationship, the one between pastor and congregation.  And I’ll probably learn something about my workaholic ways….and about how much better a pastor I will be in the future if I practice Sabbath more “religiously.” 

And maybe you all will learn something about the strength of your togetherness.  This is a strong Christian community.  You care so well for each other.  And you get the connection between what Jesus preached and how his followers are to live lives of service to others.  As Cammilla at Family Promise said, “You all are rock stars!”  Perhaps by resisting temptations that come your way during our sabbatical wilderness, you will learn all over again just how strong you are as a community—whether I’m here or not.

Can you imagine?  If I return from sabbatical stronger and wiser and YOU get stronger and wiser in your experience of sabbatical….if we’re ALL stronger and wiser come September,just imagine what we might do together for God’s kin-dom!  Just think of how much more effective we will be in sharing God’s love with a world that so needs to receive it!  Just think of how deep, and rich and full and joyful our experience of Easter will be!

So, what do you say?  Shall we commit ourselves to resisting temptations that arise during our sabbatical wilderness?  Shall we consider the sources of those temptations and try to learn from them?  Shall we use the sabbatical to gain clarity about who we are and emerge from it stronger, wiser, and eager to get back to work sharing God’s love with others?  I say yes!  What do you say?

In the name of our God, who creates us, redeems us, sustains us, and hopes for our wholeness.  Amen.

 KimberleighBuchanan  ©2014

Matthew 4:1-11   (NRSV)

Some Christians make confessions with Ash Wednesday ashes.  This year, I have a confession to make about Ash Wednesday ashes. 

I forgot to order them.  The small packet of ashes I had picked up from the Cokesbury store in Decatur a few years ago—guaranteed to have been made from last year’s palms, just like the hymn says—had lasted through several Ash Wednesdays.  I thought we were good for another year…until last Sunday when I peeked into the small ceramic jar that holds the ashes.  Empty.  And the Cokesbury Store has closed.  And Sunday was too late to order any by mail and have them delivered by Wednesday. 

What to do?

Allen volunteered to smoke a cigar for me.  “That’ll make great ashes,” he said.  But no.  Those ashes would smell like, well, cigars.  So, Tuesday I stopped in at the new “Catholic Shoppe” on Highway 92.  “May I help you?” the woman asked.  “Do you have any ashes for Ash Wednesday?” I asked.  The woman looked startled.  Wide-eyed, she said:  “You have to go to church to get those!”  Okaaaay.

Time for Plan C or D, or whatever we were up to by then. 

I texted a friend who serves a nearby church as Associate Pastor.   “ASHES!  Got ’em?  I need ’em!”  “Sure!” came the quick reply.  “Stop by tomorrow.” 

As I was leaving the office the next afternoon, I told Lynne where I was headed and for what reason.  In response, Lynne said, “I just changed out the toner in the copier,” and smiled.  I stood there.  Plotting.  “Would you like to look at the leftover toner?” Lynne asked.  With eagerness I said, “Yes, I would!”  I removed the lid and looked inside.  Tiny black granules glistened beneath the fluorescent light.  Oh, yes.  They would do nicely!  Then I thought some more…. “Are you really going to use those tonight?” Lynne asked.  And I thought some more.  Then, heaving a deep sigh, I said, “No, I’d better not.  It looks like they would work perfectly…. but I’d just start laughing when I tried to impose those on people.”  What would I say when I smudged people’s foreheads?  “Made in the exact image of God?”  No.  That just wouldn’t do.

So, off I went to the nearby church.  I told my friend about the exchange with Lynne and about the aborted toner-for-ashes plan.  My friend’s response?  “Oh, toner works great!  It sticks better than ashes do!”  Apparently, Lynne wasn’t the first person to think of using toner for ashes.

As my friend carefully tapped some ashes into a small container, I did a double-take.  Those ashes looked JUST like copier toner!  These black granules, though, had the advantage of not causing me to laugh hysterically when I used them.

As we hugged goodbye, my friend told me that earlier in the day, the new Senior Pastor had asked if the church had any Ash Wednesday traditions.   “Just one,” my friend said.  “Every Ash Wednesday afternoon at 3:00 I remember that I’ve forgotten to get ashes for the service.  Then I spend from 3:00 to service time trying to find or create some.”  My friend was more than happy to share her promptly-ordered ashes with my forgetful self.  And I was glad to receive them.

So, there’s my Ash Wednesday confession.  And now, to atone, I’m going to order next year’s ashes right now!

Today, I make the first down payment on the plane tickets to Ireland and the second installment of the cost for the Ireland tour.  It’s really getting real now!

This sabbatical has taken a lot of planning; there are lots of details to attend to.  As intense as the planning has been and will continue to be, I know there will be “hidden treasures” along the way, little “jewels” of experience that weren’t planned.  I had my first “hidden treasure” experience yesterday!

While poking around on FB, I saw a post from a friend from seminary, Cindy Winter.  I had totally forgotten that Cindy lives in Portland, OR, the first place I’ll be visiting on sabbatical.  Cindy and I haven’t seen each other….I know it’s been over a decade.  I messaged her to see if she’ll be around while I’m in Portland.  She messaged back that she WILL be in town and would love to see me!  Yahoo!

I can’t wait to see what other “hidden treasures” I’ll find on this sabbatical pilgrimage!