I'm In

A few weeks ago, I was using voice-to-text to compose some prayers. After I was finished speaking the whole list, I was proof-reading the document and realized that everywhere I said “Amen”, the voice-to-text wrote “I’m in”.

“Amen” essentially means “may it be so”, but what would it look like to end our prayers with “I’m in”. What would change if we rose from our knees, left our prayer closets, closed our devotionals, and moved with purpose toward the goals for which we had just prayed. 

Lord, in your mercy: 
Grant justice to the oppressed and disenfranchised (I’m in)
Cast down the mighty from their thrones (I’m in) 
Console the grieving and welcome the prodigal (I’m in) 
Welcome strangers and attend to the marginalized (I’m in) 
Grant the space for the silenced to speak… and listen (I’m in) 
Fill the hungry with good things and send the rich away empty (I’m in) 
Forgive others as I am forgiven (I’m in)
Be merciful as God in heaven is merciful (I’m in) 
Gently steward the creation God so loves (I’m in) 
Do not neglect to meet together with other faithful folks (I’m in) 
Clothe the naked, visit the imprisoned, bring healing to the sick, accompany the lonely (I’m in)  

The readings for Ash Wednesday are meant to return us to a place of prayer in word and deed. We ask God to grant us clean hearts, for the purposes of restoring us to right relationship with our Creator, the people around us, and the whole world. Right relationship is a place of action, not a state of mind. The action of service changes us. The action of prayer changes us. The work of listening, accompanying, being curious changes us. It is not the motions themselves; it is the presence of the Holy Spirit in those movements that cause holy shifts within us. This is not the same thing as salvation, so I am in no way implying works-righteousness. 

I’m talking about God’s work of sanctification- making us holy, shaping us to be the people we’ve been made, equipped, and called to be. The Lenten season is the time to return to that and to ask ourselves, “Can I say, ‘I’m in”?” 

Do I want to be more like Christ in my heart, in my words, in my actions? 

The reality of resurrection is already true. We’re not waiting to re-enact Easter, but the observation of Lent allows us to prepare to be embraced by that holy joy once again. If, with the Spirit’s help, we’re not able to say “I’m in” to the discipline and devotion of Lent, we will truly be open to the “I’m in” of Easter? 

Good news delivered by women? 
The harrowing of hell? 
Appearances to doubters and deniers? 
Inclusive invitations to community? 
The call to be changed by mystery? 

The ”I’m in” to Lent, to discipline and devotion, is preparation for responding in kind to everything else God is doing and will do. 

We will not do this work alone. God goes with us all the way. 

So, what do you say? 

Guilt, Shame, and Ashes to Go

One of the struggles with Lent (and with being human) is that, in Western conversation and in spoken and written English, we have conflated guilt and shame. They are not the same. Furthermore, making them interchangeable does real spiritual and psychic harm to individuals and communities.

Regardless of official definition (denotation), the common understanding of shame (connotation) is to be embarrassed or regretful of who you are. This stems from being told or believing that bad choices or personal struggles are rooted in being a bad person. This isn't even a question of being human and, thus, prone to mistakes. In common parlance, shame is rooted, fundamentally, in being a bad person of little to no redeeming value.

When we hear people saying that people aren't "ashamed" anymore, what is usually meant is either 1)  people "like that" used to not be visible in society and I would prefer for that to be the case again OR 2) they should feel guilty for their choices or actions. 

Guilt is different from shame and has a different function. Guilt is feeling bad about actions or choices. Guilt is not rooted in who you are as a person, but in the fact that you have done things that are not in keeping with who you are (or whose you are). Guilt is the feeling that arises out of regret or remorse. Often guilt makes us double-down on a choice, reiterating that we were correct in our actions- even though we doubt that ourselves. Negative choices can stem from fear, longing, grief, and frustration. We have few communal outlets for acknowledging these realities and, thus, they continue to be motivators toward negative actions, which feed guilt.

Guilt that we do not release can become shame.

Adam and Eve felt guilty because of their disobedience. The guilt grew beyond their ability to hold it in their hearts with the truth that God had made them and walked and talked with them. They then doubted who they were in that relationship and their value. In the resulting shame, they covered themselves and hid.

Ashes to Go is a Lenten practice that is embraced enthusiastically by some Christians and less so by others. Critics rightly note that Ash Wednesday seems like a poor day in the church year for evangelism, especially when Christians don't do a great job of talking about death, sin, and guilt on the other 364 days in of faithful living. True, true, true. The Church is the place where we learn to live and die in Jesus Christ. We model ourselves on his faithfulness.

When I go out, in the COLD, on Ash Wednesday to distribute ashes, I'm not thinking about evangelism in the classical, fundamentalist Christian sense. I'm not there in my robe, hoping someone will ask me about Christ, so that I can pray the "Sinner's Prayer" with them.

What I hope is that someone who has been shamed by the church will see me and feel courageous enough to challenge me on that, so that I might offer an apology and regret for the actions that caused shame. I hope that someone will refuse the ashes, but ask for prayer. I hope that someone will say can I talk with you after this and that I will buy them lunch and listen to their story. I hope that someone will bow their head to receive ashes and that I will pray for them and we will both feel the power of the Spirit in that moment. I hope that I will be able to give information about how to get rental assistance, medical help, spiritual care, or assurance of God's love. This is my evangel- the good news of Christ that I carry into the town square and beyond.

The reality of Ashes to Go isn't that we shouldn't be out, attempting to counter shame and relieve guilt, on this day, but that it shouldn't be the only day that we do it. 

The Divine Being overflows with love for creation. We are part of that creation. Becoming rooted in that truth does not allow the weed of shame to take hold and choke out the grace of that knowledge.

Guilt has a performative function of helping us see how we have strayed from loving God, loving our neighbors, and loving ourselves. Releasing guilt sometimes requires hard work of confessing to God or to one another, reparative work, or learning new information toward a change of heart. Lent is a good time to work on releasing guilt so that we have clearer vision to celebrate the joy of resurrection at Easter.

Ash Wednesday Loop

I once preached an Easter sermon titled "Ready or Not, Resurrection"... maybe I need to read it again for myself.

For this year, I am decidedly "not".

I am not ready for Easter. Not just in the sense of no sermon yet or no bulletins prepared or having conversations with people about music or atmosphere and being undecided, I mean I am flat-out not ready.

I am not ready to hear the cries of "Crucify him" and to see images from the news in my mind of mobs of people pushing black and brown-skinned individuals with whom they disagree.

I am not ready to hear "Give us Barabbas" and to picture a crowd that preferred a murderer to the embodied Word of God.

I am not ready to feel the roughed surface of the congregation's large wooden cross and have it draw to mind the mixed up winter we've had and its total on bodies and psyches.

I'm not ready to talk to people about assisting in worship, while admitting to myself (and maybe to them) that my prayer life has been stalled because of stress, grief, frustration, and anxiety.

I am not ready to try to come up with a sermon that is more that just what I need to hear, because what would that be?

Let's be clear. This is not "Why do I have to preach the same thing year after year"?

This is "How do I preach that thing that I need to preach year after year in the middle of the present pile of sh*t that is fire recovery, election cycle, refugee crisis, fiscal debacle, and general human pain when I am in the middle of all of it as well"?

Even as I type this, I remember again the reality of incarnation... the reality of God being born into that verkakta meshugas that is the creation condition. Good Friday is not God's honor at stake or God's wrath being satisfied. It's the inability of humanity to trust in, conceive of, dare to hope on the truth of infinite grace, mercy, and wholeness and there for killing it because we shut down what we fear.

And Easter is when God says, "Do what you want, but you don't get the last word."

That's what I am working toward in trying to move into an Easter frame of mind. Lent... however long it lasts... is not a long goodbye. It's a long hello.

Beauty for Ashes

Early on Friday morning, January 29, 2016... a person or persons broke into the church building where I serve.

They smashed a concrete doorstop through a window to enter the building. Additionally, they threw said doorstop through the plate glass office window and then ransacked the office looking for money. Not finding any, they stole a small, inexpensive digital camera and tore up the office. 

They proceeded to the sanctuary where they overturned the baptismal font, shattering the pottery insert that protected the brass font from water damage. 

The saddest damage was found on Sunday morning, where they wrote in the liturgical leader book. 

Right over the idea that the Lamb of God takes away the sin of the world, they wrote "lie". Did they stop to read this and react to that specifically? Do they refuse to believe the body and blood of Christ were given for them? Did they simply not care what the book was?

There was no other damage to the book or in the sanctuary (besides the font). No Bibles torn, no hymnals, nothing to the piano or organ (thank God). So this quick writing seems very specific. 

The worst damage was in the back of the church where they put books and papers on the stoves and turned on all the burners full blast. We have had electric stoves, so it probably took a while for things to start burning, but they did. Eventually the sprinkler system kicked in and one localized sprinkler dowsed the flames. Lots of water pouring through the kitchen and over some of the preschool contents. The kitchen was totaled. 

A person walking his or her dog early in the a.m. saw the strobe lights of the fire alarm system and called the fire department. The alarm system alerted specific church members. 

It was, expectedly, chaotic. 

I was on a ship, but got the news and made many calls... at the rate of $1.99/minute.

We're slowly cleaning up and deciding how to move forward. 

The emotional reactions come and go, but when I look at the worship book, there's only one spiritual reaction: prayer for such a hurting individual. 

In ransacking the office, they opened a plastic bowl I had full of ashes. Last year, I burned 3 years worth of old palms from Palm Sunday. I sieved the ashes very finely and stored them. I had enough ashes for about 500 Ash Wednesdays. The person opened that container and dumped the ashes everywhere in the office. The ash is so fine, it just hangs in the air.

This means that the perpetrator, still a child of God, left Lutheran Church of Hope covered in our still ringing "Hosannas" (God save us!) and the reminder that we are all dust and to dust we shall return.

There's something so poignant about that. I'll try to cling to this as we move forward.


Donations to Lutheran Church of Hope or Hope Lutheran Preschool may be made here: www.mkt.com/hopeak.