reallifepastor

The journey begins! I preached about Koinonia today, introducing the idea of A Year of Koinonia to the congregation. The way this is dovetailing so nicely with the Beatitudes sermons, the way it coincides with the Koinonia celebration next year, the way it will help us–as a community–think about how to live the kin-dom of God NOW? It’s feeling like a God-moment!

Okay. Here’s the sermon…

July 17, 2011 “Meek Inheritance”
Matthew 5:5 (Philippians 2:1-5)

In the first Beatitude, we learned that the first step of becoming a citizen of God’s kingdom is acknowledging our need of God: “blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” The second step is mourning—that is, becoming deeply concerned to the point of action—about the suffering of the world: “blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” The third step of becoming a citizen of God’s Kingdom involves becoming meek. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. This Beatitude has long amused quipsters.

The meek shall inherit the earth—they are too weak to refuse.

Let the meek inherit the earth—they have it coming to them.

It’s going to be fun to watch and see how long the meek can keep the earth once they inherit it.

The meek may inherit the earth, but the other kind inherits the mortgage.

The meek shall inherit the earth, but not its mineral rights. J. Paul Getty

Welcome to the most puzzling of the Beatitudes. Like the comedian said: Why should the meek inherit the earth? They don’t even want it!

So, who are these “meek” to whom Jesus refers? In common usage, meek usually means weak, harmless, spiritless. The quotes I just read are funny because they assume that shrinking-violet definition of meek. But I don’t think Jesus is talking about the weak meek here. I think he’s talking about something stronger, something more like a healthy humility.

Are you humble? I’m not talking about the false humility we’re so good at here in the South. “That’s a beautiful dress!” we might be told. “Oh, this old thing?” I’m not talking about false humility. When I ask if you’re humble, I’m asking if you have a true and accurate understanding of who you are. Are you realistic about who you are and what your gifts are? Or do you feel a need to inflate—or deflate—your actual gifts? Joan Chittister suggests that “humility is reality to the full;” it “comes from understanding our place in the universe,” (Wisdom Distillled from the Daily, 53). Do you understand your place in the universe? Or do you feel the need to occupy a larger place than others…or maybe a smaller place? The humble life is a mama Bear life—it’s lived in a “just-right” perspective.

Have you ever been around a truly humble person, someone who seemed to have a realistic grasp of their standing in the world? They’re kind of different from most folks, aren’t they? They seem so comfortable in their own skin. They’re satisfied with what they have; they aren’t always wishing for what they don’t have. And while seeming to be confident, they don’t seem to need to impose their will on others. Have you ever met someone like that? Kind of spooky, isn’t it?

This thing about not needing to impose their will on others…Clarence Jordan, he of Cotton Patch Gospel fame, says that the meek Jesus is talking about here no longer feel the need to impose their will on others because they have surrendered their will completely to God. Jordan wrote: “Right there is the secret to the power of the meek. They surrender their will to God so completely that God’s will becomes their will.” That means that “whoever fights them is fighting against God, for a surrendered human will is the agency through which God’s power is released upon the earth.” “Through [the meek] God’s will is done on earth as it is in heaven; through them the kingdom of heaven comes to earth.” (25)

Jordan sums up this meek inheritance business about as well as anyone. The meek are those who have willingly surrendered their wills to God. Their desire is no longer to build themselves up or to control others. Their desire has become one with God’s desire. They hope God’s hopes; they dream God’s dreams. And not only do they hope and dream what God hopes and dreams, the meek also have the hands and feet to make those dreams reality…
…which is exactly why it is the meek who inherit the earth, right? If God’s dream is for the divine will to be done on earth as it is in heaven and if “a surrendered human will is the agency through which God’s power is released upon the earth,” then who better to receive the earth than those who are best equipped to claim it for heaven?

All this defining and discussing the meek and their inheritance is fine, but what does it look like? What does it look like when the meek come into their earthly inheritance?

It probably looks a lot like Koinonia Farm, the interracial Christian community Clarence Jordan established in 1942 in Sumter County, Georgia, down near Americus. If you read my blog this week, you saw a description of the theme I’m suggesting for Pilgrimage this year: A Year of Koinonia. In September 2012, Koinonia Farm will mark its 70th anniversary. There’s going to be a big celebration, including a production of the “Cotton Patch Gospel” with Tom Key. I thought it might be fun for some of us to go down there for that celebration.

Then I thought it might be fun to learn about Koinonia before we went. Then I thought it might be fun to study some of Jordan’s Cotton Patch translations of the Bible. Then I thought it might be fun to reflect on what it means to live koinonia, Christian community. Then I thought it might be fun to get involved in Habitat for Humanity, an idea that was inspired by Koinonia. Then I thought—It might take a year to do all of this! Thus was born the idea for this year’s theme: A Year of Koinonia.

Here’s the thing about the Sermon on the Mount—it’s impossible to study it without at least thinking about changing your life. I just don’t think Jesus said all this stuff simply to hear himself talk. Why talk about fulfilling God’s dreams on earth as they are in heaven unless you wanted people to try to do it, right? I think Jesus’ dream was that we would take God’s dream seriously and do everything we can to make it reality.

If we’re looking for a model of that, we need look no further than Clarence Jordan himself. Clarence grew up a child of privilege in Talbotton, Georgia. The disparity between all he had and the poverty of many of those around him bothered him, even as a child. After high school, he attended UGA, where he got a degree in Agriculture—he planned to work with poor farmers to improve their farming techniques.

Toward the end of college, he felt a strong call to ministry and ended up at my alma mater, the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Louisville, Kentucky. While there, he distinguished himself as a Greek scholar and biblical interpreter.

I think seminary might also be the place where Clarence became meek in the way he describes in his Sermon on the Mount commentary. In his study, the words of Jesus had become so real to him, God’s hopes for humanity had become so compelling, that Clarence completely surrendered his will to God. God’s hopes and dreams were now his hopes and dreams. His mind and heart were completely aligned with God. As Paul says so well in his letter to the Philippians, Clarence Jordan now had the mind of Christ…

…he also had the hands, feet, courage, and agriculture degree it would take to try to fulfil God’s dreams here on earth…which is why he went in with another family to buy a run- down farm in Sumter County, Georgia, in 1942.

For the longest time—eight years—the folks in Sumter County left Koinonia alone. Koinonia might have seemed a little weird, but mostly it seemed harmless. Some neighboring farmers grew concerned when they learned that white and black workers were paid the same wage at Koinonia; that forced them to have to raise their pay as well. But mostly, they just left Koinonia alone…until the Jordans took a dark-skinned student from India to a worship service at Rehoboth Baptist Church. That was when things got tense. The next Sunday, the deacons of Rehoboth voted to exclude all Koinonians from their church.

Things started getting really bad in 1954, with the Supreme Court’s Brown vs. Board of Education decision. At that point, the terrorism started—drive-by shootings, bombings, cross burnings, an economic boycott. Many Koinonia families eventually had to be relocated to New Jersey because things were just too dangerous.
Eventually, as the Civil Rights Movement effected change all over the country, things simmered down in Sumter County. By the time Clarence Jordan died in 1969, membership in the community was on the rise again. The terrorism had stopped. There’s no doubt, though, that the Koinonia community—meek though its leader was—claimed at least one small piece of earth in southwest Georgia for the kin-dom of God.

Over the years, the emphasis of Koinonia has changed. It has been involved in the peace movement and is now focusing on renewable agricultural techniques. Jubilee Partners, an offshoot of Koinonia, has on ongoing ministry to refugees. That’s the thing about the kingdom of heaven—each generation has to re-interpret for the current times.

Which brings us to today’s “So what?” question: How will we help God’s kingdom come here on earth as it is in heaven? If we allow ourselves to become meek, if we allow our wills to become one with God’s, if we dare to dream God’s dreams, how will we help those dreams become a reality? What will we do with the earth once we receive our inheritance?

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

Kimberleigh Buchanan © 2011

Synod is always a good experience. There are so few UCC churches in the South; it’s easy to feel small. Gathering with a few thousand UCCers—it’s nice to feel big once in a while!

Sundry reflections….

Worship. During the intro to one of the worship songs at Friday night worship, I leaned over to Rachel Small and said, “I come to Synod to sing!” In part, I do. Singing songs and hymns with life-giving, liberating texts in a large space with other UCCers? There’s nothing else like it in the world. The preaching was good (the Southeast Conference’s own Elizabeth Clement preached Tuesday night) and the visuals were great (including all iPhone users using candle apps one night), but it was the singing that really helped me to experience God’s presence during Synod. Wonderful!

Fellowship. Yeah, it was great to see Rachel. She’s doing well and says “Hi!” I barely missed Donna Papenhausen at Sunday afternoon’s worship service. We spoke briefly by phone. Unfortunately, Sarah Weaver wasn’t able to come; I missed seeing her. But I did meet Joe and Kim Skalski’s former pastor by phone! That was kind of cool.

Also kind of cool was meeting with other representatives from the Southeast Conference for breakfast one morning. About 25 of us gathered for fellowship and to debrief the business that was being discussed by delegates. After ten years in the Conference, I feel more positive about our churches, their pastors, and their members than I ever have. There is an amazing sense of comraderie that I find very energizing…and hopeful. I look for much more collaboration among churches in the Southeast Conference—and especially in the Atlanta area—in the coming months and years.

Workshops. Unfortunately, I reinjured my Achilles tendons on Friday of Synod, which put me out of commission for most of the events on Saturday (though I did make Leonard Pitts excellent keynote address Saturday morning and a wonderful worship service that night! Oh, and I did make it to the flash mob [see below]). Happily, I was able to get CDs of the two workshops I hoped to attend—one on prayer in all aspects of a congregation’s life and one on storytelling. Once I have the chance to listen to those, I’ll report back.

Business. The biggest piece of business for Synod was approval of the Agreement on the Mutual Recognition of Baptism. This conversation is an ecumenical one; it involves agreeing on certain language for baptismal formulas so that baptisms among denominations might be recognized. The struggle for some UCCers was having to adhere to non-inclusive language for God (“Father, Son, Holy Spirit”). The compromise is to use Father-language first, then use whatever other language for God the local community uses. The really significant thing about these conversations is that the Catholic Church—including Atlanta’s Archbishop Wilton Gregory—is on board with it.

For other news of the business portions of Synod, see a recap at http://www.ucc.org/news/gs28.html

A new geezer’s reflections on the Youth and the 20/30’s. Okay, I’m not old…but I am a well-established middle ager. This, I discovered at Synod. There were tons of teenagers at Synod! They did lots of outreach and fun stuff in Tampa and—very importantly!—added a lot of energy to worship services, including several impromptu conga lines. At Tuesday night’s worship service, I saw in the bulletin, that there would be a blessing with youth. I assumed that meant that the youth would BE blessed. Imagine my surprise when I saw that the youth were actually doing the blessing. They blessed and challenged the new Leaders of the UCC as they begin their work.

That moment of blessing was pivotal for me. As one youth said in a video shown just a few minutes before the blessing: “The youth aren’t the future of the UCC, we’re right now!” Indeed. The Youth are now. The meeting—and the denomination—would be much, much less vibrant were it not for the youth being among us right now.

The 20/30’s are the folks in their 20s and 30s who are ordained. Rachel Small is a part of that group (and I guess Sarah is now, too…probably Kristin, too). Among many other initiatives, the 20/30’s orchestrated two flash mobs and a flash mob communion service. The flash mobs filled me with joy; the communion service gave me chills. (View the flash mob at http://www.ucc.org/synod/video/gs-28-flash-mob-edit.html You’ll see Rachel Small in the aqua colored top by the palm tree on the left. At 2:07 or so, you will actually see my shoulder and the back of my head in the bottom right hand screen!)

Again, the comraderie among these young ministers, their energy, their passion for doing God’s work and doing it through the UCC were inspiring. Really inspiring. Of course, when I saw in the program that they had a gathering for drinks one night from 10:00 p.m. – 1:00 a.m., I was saddened to realize that my 1:00 a.m. days are long gone. At the same time, though, I was filled with hope to know so many young clergy who are and will continue to have a profound impact on the UCC. That is cause for celebration!

Exhibit Hall! Okay. This is where Synod gets downright unfair. So many wonderful books! So many beautiful stoles and banners! When I stopped by the “In Stitches” booth (they make beautiful stoles!), I told the folks in charge, “I’ll try not to drool.” One of the women said, “Honey, just bring a towel.” (The people at “In Stitches” made the quilted green stole that so many of you have commented on. Beautiful stuff!) Sure is nice to look, though.

Synod 2013: Long Beach, CA! Won’t you join me? Syond is a great experience. Good speakers, great worship, helpful workshops, service opportunities, good fellowship…and the good news is that it’s not just for clergy! The next Synod will be held in Long Beach, CA. Won’t you consider joining me for that event?

I’ve been away from the internet for days…having fun at UCC General Synod in Tampa! (I’ll write more later.)

Right now I want to share this link to an article from the next issue of Christian Century. WTBG is the program I participated in from 2008-2010. Our Lady of Grace Monastery is the monastery I visit when I talk about “the monastery.” Sr. Luke is just amazing.

Here’s the article: http://christiancentury.org/article/2011-06/time-grace-women-clergy

Peace for your journey…

Here’s a paragraph from one of the helps on Week 1 of the Exercises…

“The first and most important point is to begin this journey with great hope and confidence. God is never outdone in generosity. So, if we make even a small change in our weekly pattern, that is a tremendous opening for God to work in us. One way to affirm this hope and confidence is to express it for just a brief instant, each morning, at the same time each day — as I’m finding my slippers, or as I’m brushing my teeth, or while I’m pouring that first cup of coffee — “I know you are with me today, Lord.”

Because I’m not completely comfortable with “Lord” language, I tweaked it a little to “Holy One, I know you are with me today.” I say it each morning as I’m pouring my coffee. So simple…and yet so powerful.

Today I launch into reflections on adolescence and young adulthood. It could be interesting trying to find God in THOSE places!

Peace for your journey…

Just got back from “The Last Walk,” an interactive Stations of the Cross experience the youth in our church planned and put together. It was–by far–the most meaningful Good Friday worship experience I’ve ever had. Ever.

I could tell you about the experience-it-yourself communion on the table in the sanctuary or the weighted bags meant to help us feel the weight of the cross. I could tell you about the (Hershey’s) “kisses” of betrayal or the rooster-shaped planter that received our written confessions of denial. I could write for days about the mirror placed on an easel in such a way that when you looked in the mirror, it was as if you yourself were on the cross. Yes. I could write for days about that.

But what I want to tell you tonight is how it felt to kneel in front of the banner that read, “Not my will, but thine.” As I knelt, the pleadings of Jesus to God to “let this cup pass” from him fresh in my mind, I was struck by this insight: He didn’t want to do it. Jesus really didn’t want to do it. He would have given anything, if these texts are to be believed, not to have been executed…but as much as he didn’t want to do it, as much as he dreaded what he must have known was coming, still he said “Not my will but thine.”

Why? Why relent? Why give himself over to God’s will? Why give himself over to a process that could lead only to his death?

As I knelt there praying, thinking, reflecting, feeling (or trying to) some of the anguish of Jesus’ prayer, the answer came to me. Why, despite his dread of what was to come, did Jesus give himself over to the process that would end with the cross? He did it for love. Jesus gave himself over to the way of the cross because he loved people.

My favorite definition of love comes from Christian ethicist Beverly Harrison who says (this might be a paraphrase): “Love is the power to act each other into well-being.” To love someone is to hope for and act toward the beloved’s well-being, his or her’s flourishing…and yet, the world in which Jesus lived was one that favored the well-being of only a few. The systems of that 1st c world were violently unjust. Anyone who challenged those systems as much as Jesus did? Execution was highly likely…because that’s what evil does to love–it destroys it, or seeks to.

Anyone who loves people and wants to act them into well-being, anyone who wants justice, grace, and mercy for all people, anyone who is willing to face the powers-that-be and call them on their hypocrisy also must be prepared to reap the consequences of his actions. In his anguished prayer that night, I think that’s what Jesus was doing–he was reconciling himself to the natural consequences of the actions he’d been taking on behalf of the people, especially people not represented well by the social systems. Because of his love for people, Jesus took on the work of advocating for them…and in his final prayer, he also accepted the reality of the consequences for that advocacy–his execution.

Could Jesus have done it another way? I don’t think so. I’m way, way past all that substitutionary atonement stuff…the idea that “Jesus died for my sins.” That’s not what I mean when I say that I don’t think Jesus could have done it any other way. What I do mean is that I don’t think we would have gotten the message–any of us–if he hadn’t died. His death showed just how virulent and violent evil is. Evil destroys.

Evil destroys…but love builds up, love seeks the well-being of the beloved, love hopes for the wholeness of the beloved. And–as we know well–love wins….that is the message of resurrection.

I’m 46 years old and am still trying to figure out this whole crucifixon/resurrection thing…but the thing I got much clearer about tonight is that Jesus did it all for love.

Thanks be to God.