Thursday, August 5, 2010
I've decided to move my "Musings" over to Tumblr: http://youngpastormatt.tumblr.com/
Why, you might ask? Well, it seems like Tumblr might be a more natural fit with the form I'd like my "musings" to take: sometimes, my "musings" will be more traditional blog-like writing (like I've shared here on Blogger before), but sometimes my "musings" are simply that I want to post a quick quote from the book I'm reading at the moment, or link to another blog posting I've seen, or share a video clip. Tumblr seems like a easier and more natural fit for this in-between 'sometimes-blog-sometimes-other' format.
So, come see me on Tumblr: http://youngpastormatt.tumblr.com/
And feel free to "follow" me on there (just like you do with somebody on Twitter), or Tumblr also lets you get the RSS feed, so you can subscribe with your favorite blog-reader (I use Google Reader, myself, for no better reason than that I use GMail for my email).
Peace, all, and see you on Tumblr,
Thursday, August 27, 2009
The following pastoral letter was distributed to my congregation's whole-church email list and copies will be made available at worship on Sunday.
August 27, 2009
By now I suspect most all of you have heard or seen coverage of the shooting and death of Mark Barmore at Kingdom Authority Church this past Monday afternoon. Because of how this incident, and the reactions and controversies surrounding it, affect all of us in the Rockford community, I have had a growing sense of obligation to share some of my own reflections.
As some of you may know, Kingdom Authority is a predominately African American congregation located less than two blocks from our own church facilities, in the 500 block of North Court Street. Many of us regularly drive by the brown-brick building on our way to-and-from Second Congregational, and Kingdom Authority’s pastors, Melvin and Sheila Brown, have been involved in past conversations around neighborhood concerns. A tragic incident like this anywhere in our community has deep impacts, but I know that I, for one, am all the more conscious of it given that it happened ‘in our own backyard’.
I do not presume to “know the facts” about what happened any more than you probably do. As the media reports show, the various accounts from the police department and from persons present at the time of the shooting do not all agree with one another. Ultimately, it may never be possible to establish an account of exactly what happened that will be completely beyond suspicion by some in our community.
I had the opportunity to attend a good portion of yesterday afternoon’s press conference at City Hall along with First Presbyterian’s pastor Bob Hillenbrand and Emmanuel Episcopal’s rector Pamela Hillenbrand. As media coverage indicated, the press conference did not provide as much in the way of answers as it did serve to highlight the variety of emotions and reactions flowing through our community.
I may not have any answers about “the facts”. But I have been impacted by the strength and emotion in the reactions around our community, and as I have thought through others’ reactions and my own, a few reflections have come to me:
First of all, regardless of the precise details, Monday’s incident was a tragedy. It is always a tragedy when a death occurs through the use of force. Mark was a real human being and child of God, regardless of the particularities of his life journey. I have been greatly disturbed to read comments posted on internet news article feedback boards that say he “deserved what he got.” No one deserves to be killed. Even when a police officer does engage in ‘justifiable’ self-defense and rightly takes actions they think necessary, nevertheless a life is ended and that is cause for mourning. Furthermore, not only were Monday’s events tragic for Mark and his family, but also for the police officers involved, as they must deal with their own trauma and emotional strain.
Second, real people are hurting with real pain. Of course, it goes without saying that Mark’s family and friends have been thrown into the pangs of grief. But there are also the day care children and others in whose presence the shooting occurred, and they have the emotional effects of that to process. Then, there is the community of Kingdom Authority, who must cope with their own sacred space being the location of such a tragic occurrence.
But the impact and the pain of this event reaches farther than that. This event has again brought to light the tensions and distrusts between police and other authorities and the racial-ethnic communities of our society, a dynamic that is not unique to Rockford. Sure, it is true that relations among the various racial and ethnic groups in our country have improved in our time, but that does not erase overnight the long histories of systemic injustices that certain communities have endured at the hands of those in power. Even as injustices and prejudices decrease, building trust is a much longer process that requires hard work. The reactions and controversies over Monday’s shooting clearly show that those bonds of trust are still lacking in our community. Without that foundation of trust, events like this cause perceptions and suspicions that lead to a pain that is very real to those experiencing it. Regardless of whether we agree with someone’s perceptions of a situation, we must all realize that the kind of pain that arises from those perceptions is no less ‘real’ than other kinds of pain.
Third, race is undeniably a factor in this whole situation. Let me be clear: I am not saying that race was a motivating factor in the actual shooting. But it is very clear that race is playing a large role in the reactions and controversies that have arisen since Monday’s events. Racially-biased accusations are now being flung about by people in both the white and black communities. Regardless of the motivations and justifications of any of the parties involved, it is hard to miss the imagery of two white police officers chasing a young black male and shooting him in front of mostly black day-care children—and hard to deny how this image could stir up memories out of the long history of racial discrimination in our country. Again, I am not saying that race was a motivating factor in the actual shooting, but as I said earlier, the emotion and pain that come out of perceptions (accurate or inaccurate) are just as real for those experiencing them as any other pain.
Finally, all that has happened makes it clear that we still have work to do. As I mentioned, this week’s events have made it clear that relationships and bonds of trust between various parts of our community are missing. Thinking of our particular context here at Second Congregational, I am aware that we sit no more than half-a-block farther away from Kingdom Authority Church than we do from, say, Court Street United Methodist—and yet the difference in our relationship and knowledge of those two congregations is tremendous. Relationships and trust-building are two-way streets, and we must re-commit ourselves to making sure that we are doing our part. We cannot expect trust when relationship is lacking, and we cannot expect real relationship without the hard work it takes on all sides to make it happen.
“Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me…” Our whole Rockford community finds itself in a dark valley this week. Neither answers nor healing will come overnight. But indeed, we are assured of God’s presence with all of us as we journey through this moment. But in that assurance, we must also hear God’s ever-present call to stand in solidarity with those who are hurting and in pain. We must hear the apostle Paul’s reminder that “the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body,” and that no part of the body can say to another part that “I have no need of you.” We are one body in Christ with all our Christian sisters and brothers across this whole community—and, you might say, one body in community with all people across this region—one body regardless of race and regardless of perspectives and perceptions about what occurred this past Monday. As a Christian people, part of that one body in Christ, our call is to be agents of mercy, understanding, and reconciliation—a long and hard journey, but the only one worth taking.
Yours in the journey,
The Rev. Matthew C. Emery
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
To anyone out there who saw the request I put up a couple months ago requesting prayers for my friends who were facing a major complication with their pregnancy: many thanks for your prayers.
As for an update, Joshua Harold Ross was born August 27th, 2008, about 2 1/2 months early (28 1/2 weeks gestation). At birth, he was 2 lbs., 12 oz. He was in the neo-natal ICU, where he went through some ups-and-downs, but overall did fairly well. This past Saturday, November 1st, he got to come home!
Your continued prayers will be much appreciated, though, as I'm sure he will continue to face some challenges due to his situation. But for the moment, things look like they have gone well given the circumstances.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Faithful God ...
... we give you thanks
that indeed you do not give up on us,
even when we give up on you.
We too make for ourselves
that we worship instead of you.
For some of us,
For some of us,
that leads to unquestioning allegiance
to our country,
even when you alone, O God,
are worthy of our allegiance.
For some of us,
our golden calf is
our illusions of self-reliance,
while for others of us,
it is the illusion of our worthlessness,
forgetting that we are your beloved child,
formed in your image.
But you, O God, do not give up.
You keep inviting us to turn back to you.
You keep holding out a vision of new life, of a different kind of world.
Oh, how a vision of a different kind of world
is what we need in this moment, loving God.
We keep turning on the news
to a never-ending tale of woe in our world's economic systems.
We open our mail to find bills we struggle to pay
and hard-earned treasures vanishing before our eyes.
But you, O God, run a different kind of economy--
it is always a bull market on the indicies of your love and grace and faithfulness.
You, O God, manage a different kind of investment fund--
an account with our names on it
that you continually grow with the capital of your Spirit,
whose dividends are an invitation to new life in you.
O God, our refuge,
the economy is not the only thing about which we yearn
for a vision of a different kind of world.
We remember that our world is one
where 10 years ago, your beloved child
laid dying on a Wyoming fencepost
simply for who you created him to be.
You, O God, have given us a vision
where all people are welcome
at your banquet feast--
pour out your power on us as we try to live more and more into that vision.
God our healer, even as we pray and hope for a different kind of world,
we also pray for your work in this world.
We ask your healing on all who are hearing...
We ask your comforting touch on all who are lonely or struggling...
We ask your empowering touch on all who are downtrodden and in chains.
Holy One, we pray all these things
by the power of your Holy Spirit,
that Spirit that interceeds for us with sighs too deep for words,
and in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord,
that One who was your different kind of world
walking the face of this one,
the One who taught us to pray together:
Our Father ...
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
body and soul,
in life and in death—
to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ. ...
Christ, by his Holy Spirit,
assures me of eternal life
and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready
from now on to live for him.
21. What is true faith?
True faith is
not only a knowledge and conviction
that everything God reveals in his Word is true;
it is also a deep-rooted assurance,
created in me by the Holy Spirit through the gospel,
that, out of sheer grace earned for us by Christ,
not only others, but I too,
have had my sins forgiven,
have been made forever right with God,
and have been granted salvation.
Because by faith I am a member of Christ
and so I share in his anointing.
I am anointed
to confess his name,
to present myself to him as a living sacrifice of thanks,
to strive with a good conscience against sin and the devil
in this life, and afterward
to reign with Christ over all creation
for all eternity.
To assure me in times of personal crisis and temptation
that Christ my Lord,
by suffering unspeakable anguish, pain, and terror of soul,
especially on the cross but also earlier,
has delivered me from the anguish and torment of hell.
First, he pleads our cause in heaven
in the presence of his Father.
Second, we have our own flesh in heaven—
a guarantee that Christ our head,
will take us, his members,
to himself in heaven. ...
In all my distress and persecution
I turn my eyes to the heavens
and confidently await as judge the very One
who has already stood trial in my place before God
and so has removed the whole curse from me.
Those who are displeased with themselves
because of their sins,
but who nevertheless trust
that their sins are pardoned
and that their continuing weakness is covered
by the suffering and death of Christ,
and who also desire more and more
to strengthen their faith
and to lead a better life. ...
having or inventing something in which one trusts
in place of or alongside of the only true God,
who has revealed himself in his Word.
I am not to belittle, insult, hate, or kill my neighbor—
not by my thoughts, my words, my look or gesture,
and certainly not by actual deeds—
and I am not to be party to this in others;
rather, I am to put away all desire for revenge. ...
Does this commandment refer only to killing?
By forbidding murder God teaches us
that he hates the root of murder:
envy, hatred, anger, vindictiveness.
In God's sight all such are murder.
Is it enough then that we do not kill our neighbor in any such way?
By condemning envy, hatred, and anger
God tells us
to love our neighbors as ourselves,
to be patient, peace-loving, gentle,
merciful, and friendly to them,
to protect them from harm as much as we can,
and to do good even to our enemies.
110. What does God forbid in the eighth commandment?
He forbids not only outright theft and robbery,
punishable by law.
But in God's sight theft also includes
cheating and swindling our neighbor
by schemes made to appear legitimate,
inaccurate measurements of weight, size, or volume;
or any other means forbidden by God.
In addition he forbids all greed
and pointless squandering of his gifts.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Sermon: “Sacred Conversation”
A 'Sermon' for Holy Trinity Sunday, Year A
Genesis 1:1 - 2:4a; Matthew 28:16-20
By The Rev. Matthew Emery
Second Congregational United Church of Christ, Rockford, Illinois
May 18, 2008
I’m guessing that you’ve noticed, as I’ve pulled out a chair to sit down here on the floor level with you all, that I’m choosing not to occupy the traditional place of preaching here this morning. Well, what I’ve set out to do here today is not a traditional ‘sermon’ as such.
The national setting of our church, the United Church of Christ, together with the folks at the National Council of Churches, which represents 35 denominations across the spectrum of mainline Protestant, Eastern Orthodox, and historically African American churches, they have invited us to use this Sunday to begin what they call a “Sacred Conversation on Race”.
This comes out of some of the controversy over the Rev. Dr. Jeremiah Wright, but really it’s larger than that. This isn’t about Dr. Wright, it isn’t about Barack Obama (or Hillary Clinton or John McCain, either). This is about realities we face in this country and conversations we too often shy away from.
I want to emphasize a couple things:
First, I said begin a sacred conversation—what I have to say today is not the end-all, be-all on the matter. I hope, as does the UCC and the National Council of Churches, that what happens today is just the beginning of us together addressing these issues of race and racism.
Second, this is supposed to be a conversation—sure, I will have plenty to say to you myself this morning, but you have voices and views too, and together we have views and voices to share in dialogue with people in other churches and in no church. We all must come to the table with what we bring.
And thirdly, this will hopefully be a sacred conversation—a conversation that is born out of mutual respect for one another; a conversation that takes seriously that all of us, with our gifts and our brokenness, were created in God’s own image; a conversation where we bring our own views, yes, but also one where we try to listen for God’s views, for the voice that God is still speaking amidst our lives; and a conversation where we seek out what our calling—our vocation, our job—might be in response to what happens.
All right—so, were does a sacred conversation on race and racism begin? Well, I’m inclined to think that such a conversation has to begin with truth-telling, authentic truth-telling, and first, authentic truth-telling about ourselves. I don’t think we can come to something like this simply by stating our views about concepts in abstract. And I really don’t think we can come with just our feelings about other people. We gotta start with ourselves, our real selves and our experiences—both the good and the bad. So that’s where I’m going to begin—I want to model the work of truth-telling about ourselves by being vulnerable and open with you about experiences.my own
To begin with this truth-telling about myself, I might start by saying that I want to be on what most people would consider the ‘good’ side of things. I want to not be racist and I want to believe that I am not racist. Going further, though, I want to be an ally to people of color, be they Black or Latino or Arab or Asian. I want a person of color to know not only that I don’t have prejudices against them and that the communities that I am a part of would welcome them, but that I want to be an advocate on their side.
But, you know, if I were to just leave you there, that wouldn’t be truth-telling. The truth is that it just ain’t that easy, folks. These things I’ve said may be what I want, but to borrow some words from the apostle Paul’s letter to the Romans “For I do not do the good I want, [and] the evil I do not want is what I do.”
The truth is, no matter how much I hate racism and want to be an ally to people of color, I still catch myself thinking things and doing things that reflect the ever-so-subtle prejudices in our society. For instance, I know that I have caught myself—not all the time, but occasionally—locking my car doors when driving through a poor black neighborhood. And I can ask myself, ‘now would I have just done that if this were just as poor a neighborhood that was mostly white?’ And the answer, quite frankly, I don’t know. Maybe. Probably not.
Or, as another example, when I’m getting out of my car here at the church and I see someone walking toward me that looks a bit disheveled or poor, maybe seeming like they’re drunk or on drugs—does the question ‘are they going to ask me for money?’ come quicker to my mind if that person is Black or Latino than if they are white? I don’t know; sometimes probably yes. And I hate that—working here at the church, I of all people know that we get just as many white people in here asking for money as black or Latino—and yet I know I still every once in a while have those thoughts, and I hate that. I hate that about myself, and I hate what our society has done to me that causes that.
I want to widen my truth-telling, though, beyond these more obvious things. In some ways, those were the easy things to see. What’s a lot harder to get at is how as a white person I bring certain assumptions to things that come out of what’s called “white privilege”—the things those of us who are white can assume and count on that, for the most part, people of color just can’t take as givens. First I want to do so by way of a story of an experience I had while I was in seminary.
My second year in seminary, I was part of a program that had 15 of us seminary students working part time in one of three different UCC churches in Chicago—a fairly poor black church, a sort of economically-in-the-middle Puerto Rican church, and a fairly affluent white church. I myself was working at the Puerto Rican church. As part of this program, the 15 of us students also took half of our academic coursework together, drawing on what was going on with our work in these three churches as part of our ‘source material’ for the classes.
Oh, and I need to point out that of our group of 15 students, 4 of us were white, 1 of us was an international student from the Philippines, and the other 10 of us—fully 2/3s of the class—were black.
One of the classes we did together was called “The Bible and Economic Ethics” and early on in the semester, our professors—who were both white, I should add—had asked us to read a book titled What are they saying about Scripture and Ethics? The class day came for us to discuss the book, and for the first 45 minutes or so of the 3-hour class, we had a good discussion on what was presented in the book, but something seemed a little odd that morning, almost like there was an ‘elephant in the room’, so to speak. Really, that whole time, it had only been the professors and the 4 white students and the Philippino student talking. Finally, one of my African American classmates had the courage to speak out and name the ‘elephant in the room’, and over the remaining 2 hours of class many of us had our eyes widely opened to a new reality.
You see, in the book we were discussing, in one of the chapters the author talked about how a field called “liberation theology” had affected the conversation around scripture and ethics. Liberation theology, which came into serious view starting in the late 1960s, is a way of talking about theology and ethics that starts from the assertion that God is on the side of the poor and marginalized and oppressed. There are different kinds of liberation theology, drawing on the experiences of different groups of poor or marginalized or oppressed people—there’s Latin American liberation theology, black liberation theology, Asian liberation theology, feminist liberation theology, and even lately gay liberation theology. Really though, the two kinds that are recognized for starting the whole liberation theology movement in the late 60s were Black liberation theology and Latin American liberation theology.
Anyway, in this chapter about liberation theology, the author mentioned these two roots—Latin American and Black—and then went on to basically dismiss Black liberation theology as not as interesting or fruitful for his exploration and pretty much never talked about it again. My black classmates couldn’t believe their eyes. In that class, they told us that for many of them, this was the first time in their lives that they were in a serious academic setting where they as African Americans were in the majority—remember, they made up fully 2/3s of our class—and yet, yet again they had been asked by white professors to study something that dismissed their experience, one of their most prominent theological traditions. The white people got to set the agenda yet again--and these are liberal, progressive, social-justice minded people at a UCC seminary, and still this kind of thing happened. And we white students just played along—we didn’t question it; we had to wait for them to bring up the issue. As I remember, one of us white students—it may have even been me—asked why someone didn’t speak up earlier. But you see, as they then pointed out, as a white person, and especially as a white male, I have been enculturated to believe that of course I should speak up, and of course I’ll be listened to when I do. Black people, women, people with disabilities don’t have that luxury. Too often, and sometimes explicitly and sometimes implicitly, they are told to keep quiet, and when they don’t, too often they aren’t listened to.
This whole story is just one piece, one example, of what white privilege can mean. As a white person, if I’m in a store somewhere and I get treated poorly by the clerk, I almost never have to ask myself the question of whether they treated me that way because of my race. A Black woman or a Latino man faces that gnawing question in the back of their mind every time. Sure, the clerk may have very well been a jerk who treats everyone badly. But they don’t know that. And it’s those sorts of back-of-your-mind questions that can eat away at your soul.
So, I’ve done a little bit of truth-telling about myself, but to tell the truth about myself also includes the groups and communities that I’m part of—which includes this congregation and this city of Rockford. Together, we too have some good things to say. I’ve mentioned before, but I think this congregation is to be commended for taking the risk a few years ago to build the activity center, and to invite in the kids of this neighborhood—who for the most part do not look like us.
But to tell the harder truths, we also have to admit that we can be very quick to judge when something goes a little bit wrong. Like when the window by the parking lot got broken in to. Like when we wonder why some of the parents aren’t more involved, when in reality some of them are single parents working two or three jobs just to stay afloat—and, I know, not all of them, some of them do have issues with drugs or alcohol and the like, and I’m not giving them a pass. But gosh, we can be awfully quick to judge. Like when we criticize for things maybe not being kept quite as tidy or clean as we’d like—even though our community of Rockford doesn’t exactly set any good expectations, when we let the streets and infrastructure of downtown and the West and South sides decay and crumble while we spend plenty of money building streets for subdivisions of expensive houses out on the far East side—we’re not exactly keeping their places tidy either. And even in the sentence I’ve just said, I’ve fallen into a tendency that we sometimes get caught in here, of talking about “us” and “them”. Many of us, and I’m not excluding myself here, sometimes get caught talking about how we do so much for ‘them’, the neighborhood kids, and not enough for <quote> “our” kids—forgetting that when we decided to stay downtown after the ’79 fire, we were making the decision that the ‘neighborhood kids’ are ‘our’ kids.
Ok, so I know I’ve spent quite a bit of time here talking about some of the harder truths about myself and about us together when it comes to race and racism. I guess if I can get across nothing else today, I want to say that this stuff is hard. There aren’t any easy answers. We can’t just say something that will erase 400 years of history. We can’t just imagine that ‘not being racist’ changes the inequalities that creep around the shadows of our society, like the reality of white privilege and decades of educational and economic inequalities. Myself, I’m not going to wake up tomorrow and never again occasionally have those thoughts in my mind about the disheveled guy walking up to me in the church parking lot.
Where is there hope? Where is there hope? Well I have to say, from my experiences in seminary in particular, that there may be few other things that I find myself turning to God about than this one, throwing myself on God’s throne of mercy, pleading for the Holy Spirit to come and work within me and within all of us. The story I told about that book in my seminary class, that was definitely not the only time our group had conflict that involved race that year. Voices got raised. Tears were cried. And yet somehow in the end, we still managed to be in community with one another, to care for one another. Looking back on those times, I have no explanation of how we were able to do it, other than by God’s providence and Christ’s grace and the Spirit’s power.
Really, I shouldn’t be surprised by that. When it comes right down to it, this has a whole lot to do with what the Holy Trinity is all about. I can’t explain the Trinity, and I’m not going to try, but what I do know is that by speaking of God as Trinity, we’re recognizing that community—and not just community, but community with both diversity and unity at the same time—this is inherent, central, to God’s being. And if we all are created in the image of God, as our Genesis story proclaims, then this sort of community is inherent to us too as humans. In the ‘Creator – Redeemer – Sustainer’ community, in the ‘Father – Son – Spirit’ community, in the ‘Compassionate Mother - Beloved Child - Life-giving Womb’ community, we have a glimpse of a true diversity community and we have the promise this possibility is in us, too. The creation story is all about God bringing order out of chaos, and in continuing to engage in truth-telling and join with others in sacred conversation, we join with God in bringing order and beauty into the chaos of this world. We join with God in creating the sort of community that indeed is God. And so, may almighty God, the blessed and holy Trinity, pour out power and grace and mercy upon us for the work set before us.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Today's Reading: Jeremiah 23:1-8
Woe to the shepherds who destroy and scatter the sheep of my pasture! says the Lord. Therefore, thus says the Lord, the God of Israel, concerning the shepherds who shepherd my people: It is you who have scattered my flock, and have driven them away, and you have not attended to them. So I will attend to you for your evil doings, says the Lord. Then I myself will gather the remnant of my flock out of all the lands where I have driven them, and I will bring them back to their fold, and they shall be fruitful and multiply. I will raise up shepherds over them who will shepherd them, and they shall not fear any longer, or be dismayed, nor shall any be missing, says the Lord. (vs. 1-4)
Matthew 20:17-28 (Jesus came to serve) and Psalm 100 (We are the sheep of God's pasture)
Hymn: "Gather Us In" by Marty Haugen
Prayer: O God, we confess that religion can be divisive and leaders more contentious than compassionate. Banish fear, engender healing, and restore trust to those who have been damaged by religious manipulation.
It is so interesting that this reading from Jeremiah would come up in the daily lectionary this week, given how well it connects in with something that has happened this week here in my congregation.
My sermon this past Sunday, which I will post at some point, was titled "Gatekeeping". I worked off of Jesus' statement in the John 10:1-11 reading that "I am the gate". I said that, if Jesus is the gate, then perhaps that means that we, the Church, are the gatekeepers. I played that two different ways: first that, in fact, we have all too often made ourselves into gatekeepers trying to slam the doors shut, keeping people from an experience of God, from entering into the realm that Jesus opens. But then, also, even as we repent of that kind of gatekeeping, perhaps we are being invited, called, into another kind of gatekeeping, into being the kind of gatekeepers that see someone coming down the road and call out to them, 'hey, let me hold this door open for you.' Perhaps 'usher' is an image we better connect with this than gatekeeper, but either way, we the Church are supposed to be the ones inviting people to enter through the Jesus gate.
In talking about being this kind of welcoming, ushering sort of gatekeeper, about being an "open-gate community", I mentioned that we in the United Church of Christ have been at the forefront of opening the gates of the church to gay and lesbian people, who for too long have had to deal with far too many of that 'other' kind of gatekeeping Christians (the gate-closing ones). I later received an email from a individual for whom this past Sunday was their second time visiting our congregation, and they wrote to thank me for my sermon, because they had been waiting 35 years to come to a church where they were welcome.
So, thanks be to God, that I have the privilege of being among those of whom Jeremiah says "I will raise up shepherds over them who will shepherd them," at least in as much as I get to be so and do so for anyone who walks through the doors of this community and finds welcome. And thanks be to God that people do indeed find a home and a place to journey with God, that "they shall not fear any longer, or be dismayed". And long we still await that day when "nor shall any be missing", because indeed, we know that many, many folks have still not found that place where the gatekeepers are doing their real jobs, the hold-the-door-open, welcoming-in, ushering job.
Oh, and I just love Marty Haugen's "Gather Us In":
Here in this place the new light is streaming, now is the darkness vanished away; see in this space our fears and our dreamings brought here to you in the light of this day. Gather us in, the lost and forsaken, gather us in, the blind and the lame; call to us now, and we shall awaken, we shall arise at the sound of our name.
We are the young, our lives are a mystery, we are the old who yearn for your face; we have been sung throughout all of history, called to be light to the whole human race. Gather us in, the rich and the haughty, gather us in, the proud and the strong; give us a heart, so meek and so lowly, give us the courage to enter the song.
Here we will take the wine and the water, here we will take the bread of new birth, here you shall call your sons and your daughters, call us anew to be salt for the earth. Give us to drink the wine of compassion, give us to eat the bread that is you; nourish us well, and teach us to fashion lives that are holy and hearts that are true.
Not in the dark of buildings confining, not in some heaven light years away--hear in this place the new light is shining, now is the kingdom, and now is the day. Gather us in and hold us forever, gather us in and make us your own; gather us in, all peoples together, fire of love in our flesh and our bone.
(Marty Haugen, copyright (c)1982 GIA Publications, Inc.)
Daily lectionary readings from Revised Common Lectionary Daily Readings, ©2005 Consultation on Common Texts. Hymn suggestions and prayer for the day from Bread for the Day 2008: Daily Bible Readings and Prayers, ©2007 Augsburg Fortress.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
I'm using this pretty cool site called LibraryThing to catalog my library of books. I'm still working my way through, probably only a little over half-way done (certainly not yet to 2/3rds).
You can see my whole library at:
and my LibraryThing profile at:
Check it out!