Today I returned to a place that has not changed at all since I went there when I was very small. It fluctuates with the seasons but it's structure and essence remain the same.
This creek has always been a cleansing place for me. I take comfort it it's solidity, feeling my soul settle as I melt against the side of one of it's boulders... The very same boulder that I look at all the time in a snapshot of my best friend and I during the summer before high school. Though I have changed and grown, it appears to have remained the same. This boulder, this creek is dynamic, just with a different sense of time than I have.
Why is stability so comforting? My soul aches to follow Jesus, to find a call befitting that path, but it is not a path of stabilty. My life is more likely to be like a stick that drifts past the boulder, pausing in pools, rushing over rapids, careening past drops, than the boulder itself. My savior is one who had no place to lay his head. He was a sojourner who carried what he needed with him in his heart.
I fear needing to do the same. I thrive on change yet am driven to anxiety by it at the same time. This life I am called to may be nothing like what I imagined, but the hope of the calling is that through true disciplship, it will be richer than I could gave imagined. Those shifting sands may be nothing like the boulder my soul calls for, but one day I may learn to find the same comfort there that my boulder provides.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Saturday, March 14, 2009
psalm 19 sermon
tomorrow i preach at bethel community presbyterian church in san leandro. the scripture chosen for me was psalm 19, which if you have been reading lately, i feel spoke deeply into my experience at the commission on the status of women. and so, here is my what i am starting from as i work towards tomorrow morning. i am going to try to be brave, preaching from notes or nothing at all, and trying to have fun with a congregation that i am told will talk back to me. so this was simply step one in the preaching process... getting all the thoughts into some kind of organized whole as a jumping off point.
beware the length.
* * *
The work of God is woven into the very fabric of the world. So often we do not see the threads that demonstrate that work, we simply see the blessings that result, not realizing we should be grateful to God. Psalm 19 tells us that God’s voice is present without words, but the voice is not heard.
The same can be said of the work of women. So often, in many places, it is women whose work is invisibly woven into the success of their families, their communities, their countries. Their voice cries out, without words, and is ignored.
I had the privilege of spending last weekend at the United Nations Commission on the Status of Women with as a part of the Presbyterian delegation, with women from the National Network of Presbyterian College Women, Racial Ethnic Young Women Together, and Presbyterian Women. The Commission happens every year, convening for international discussion on the status of women in general and a particular theme in particular. Equal sharing of care giving between the genders, particularly in the context of HIV/AIDS, was this year’s theme. The Presbyterian delegation’s presence, like the presence of other non-governmental organizations, was to advocate for women using a faith based perspective, out of the experiences of women’s lives in our communities and ministries. To do this, we worked with a group called Ecumenical Women that brought together many denominations to provide a more powerful, progressive voice. This group represented denominations, churches and ministries from all over the world, and women from across the globe started every day at the CSW in worship together.
Advocacy is not the only function of the CSW. Women from all over the globe also come to New York City to share stories, to network, to build global community. Many of these stories, like the voice of God present in the heavens and the firmament, are not heard often, if at all. This is a place for them to be voiced.
As HIV takes its toll, transforming into AIDS, and parents can no longer care for themselves, girls are often the children who stop going to school in order to care for their parents and the family. In places where the HIV infection rate can be as high as forty percent, people can feel so stigmatized by their status that they refuse to leave their home at all. One woman who ran a Lutheran ministry that supports AIDS patients in Colombia told of families gathering when someone is diagnosed with cancer. Support is shown, love is shared. They circle the wagons to protect, support and love one of their own. When someone is diagnosed with HIV, it is conflated with morality and no one gathers. The infection is sometimes even assumed to be punishment from God for not following God’s law.
Psalm 19 really challenged me to try to see where is God’s law here. These are not situations that inspire the rejoicing we see in this Psalm. Souls are dying, not reviving. Eyes do not seemed to be enlightened. Instead we seem to be feeling around in the dark for a solution.
This is not God’s law. This is mistaken as God’s law. But, because the stories of love and care are not voiced, these oppressive theologies remain intact. This evens happens here. Men in the early stages of the epidemic here didn’t always know how to deal with the disease through their faith. It is not unheard of that someone would stop life saving treatment because they saw their disease as punishment from God for their homosexuality. Needless lives were lost because we didn’t give voice to God’s law. Today, African Americans are the fastest growing group of new infections in this country, and AIDS is the leading cause of death for African Americans between the ages of 25 and 44. Where is the voice of the church, speaking God’s law into this situation?
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus told us he came not to abolish the law, but to fulfill it. How did he fulfill it? By healing the sick, associating with the outcast, touching lepers, talking to women, welcoming children.
To fulfill God’s law in the struggle of women and the fight against AIDS, whether here or abroad, is to stand with those who suffer, do what we can to ease their suffering, and speak God’s love into the spaces that we can. We can always be better at doing that as individuals and as communities. The church can be better at doing that. When we approach these issues according to the law of God, we bring the transformative love of Jesus Christ into the world, enabling us to live in hope.
God’s work has to be recognized for us to see God’s law and live accordingly. So is true of the work of women. We must see the work of women to be able to respond and empower them in accordance to the laws of God, not the laws of men. One cannot happen without the other.
When we recognize the work of God, when we live by God’s law, we can approach these problems, support women in their work, care for those with AIDS and empower them to live fully as God calls them to, then our eyes will be enlightened, our souls revived, and we will rejoice. When we recognize God’s true law in the love of Jesus, life will taste sweet, dripping with the finest honey from overflowing hives.
And so I close with that hope, and the prayer at the end of this Psalm: may God clear us of hidden faults, that we may be blameless and innocent. May the words of our mouths, the meditations of our hearts, the love of our souls and the work of our hands be pleasing to God, not just within our faith communities, but in the world. Amen.
beware the length.
* * *
The work of God is woven into the very fabric of the world. So often we do not see the threads that demonstrate that work, we simply see the blessings that result, not realizing we should be grateful to God. Psalm 19 tells us that God’s voice is present without words, but the voice is not heard.
The same can be said of the work of women. So often, in many places, it is women whose work is invisibly woven into the success of their families, their communities, their countries. Their voice cries out, without words, and is ignored.
I had the privilege of spending last weekend at the United Nations Commission on the Status of Women with as a part of the Presbyterian delegation, with women from the National Network of Presbyterian College Women, Racial Ethnic Young Women Together, and Presbyterian Women. The Commission happens every year, convening for international discussion on the status of women in general and a particular theme in particular. Equal sharing of care giving between the genders, particularly in the context of HIV/AIDS, was this year’s theme. The Presbyterian delegation’s presence, like the presence of other non-governmental organizations, was to advocate for women using a faith based perspective, out of the experiences of women’s lives in our communities and ministries. To do this, we worked with a group called Ecumenical Women that brought together many denominations to provide a more powerful, progressive voice. This group represented denominations, churches and ministries from all over the world, and women from across the globe started every day at the CSW in worship together.
Advocacy is not the only function of the CSW. Women from all over the globe also come to New York City to share stories, to network, to build global community. Many of these stories, like the voice of God present in the heavens and the firmament, are not heard often, if at all. This is a place for them to be voiced.
As HIV takes its toll, transforming into AIDS, and parents can no longer care for themselves, girls are often the children who stop going to school in order to care for their parents and the family. In places where the HIV infection rate can be as high as forty percent, people can feel so stigmatized by their status that they refuse to leave their home at all. One woman who ran a Lutheran ministry that supports AIDS patients in Colombia told of families gathering when someone is diagnosed with cancer. Support is shown, love is shared. They circle the wagons to protect, support and love one of their own. When someone is diagnosed with HIV, it is conflated with morality and no one gathers. The infection is sometimes even assumed to be punishment from God for not following God’s law.
Psalm 19 really challenged me to try to see where is God’s law here. These are not situations that inspire the rejoicing we see in this Psalm. Souls are dying, not reviving. Eyes do not seemed to be enlightened. Instead we seem to be feeling around in the dark for a solution.
This is not God’s law. This is mistaken as God’s law. But, because the stories of love and care are not voiced, these oppressive theologies remain intact. This evens happens here. Men in the early stages of the epidemic here didn’t always know how to deal with the disease through their faith. It is not unheard of that someone would stop life saving treatment because they saw their disease as punishment from God for their homosexuality. Needless lives were lost because we didn’t give voice to God’s law. Today, African Americans are the fastest growing group of new infections in this country, and AIDS is the leading cause of death for African Americans between the ages of 25 and 44. Where is the voice of the church, speaking God’s law into this situation?
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus told us he came not to abolish the law, but to fulfill it. How did he fulfill it? By healing the sick, associating with the outcast, touching lepers, talking to women, welcoming children.
To fulfill God’s law in the struggle of women and the fight against AIDS, whether here or abroad, is to stand with those who suffer, do what we can to ease their suffering, and speak God’s love into the spaces that we can. We can always be better at doing that as individuals and as communities. The church can be better at doing that. When we approach these issues according to the law of God, we bring the transformative love of Jesus Christ into the world, enabling us to live in hope.
God’s work has to be recognized for us to see God’s law and live accordingly. So is true of the work of women. We must see the work of women to be able to respond and empower them in accordance to the laws of God, not the laws of men. One cannot happen without the other.
When we recognize the work of God, when we live by God’s law, we can approach these problems, support women in their work, care for those with AIDS and empower them to live fully as God calls them to, then our eyes will be enlightened, our souls revived, and we will rejoice. When we recognize God’s true law in the love of Jesus, life will taste sweet, dripping with the finest honey from overflowing hives.
And so I close with that hope, and the prayer at the end of this Psalm: may God clear us of hidden faults, that we may be blameless and innocent. May the words of our mouths, the meditations of our hearts, the love of our souls and the work of our hands be pleasing to God, not just within our faith communities, but in the world. Amen.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Work to do
Yesterday, I had the privilege of sitting in on the language recommendations negotiations for the Agreed Conclusions of the Commission on the Status of Women at the UN.
Tiny bit of background: the CSW does not write treaties that have the weight of international law. They simply make policy recommendations.
So, it seems to me that there is little risk involved in using strong language. What is the harm in being hopeful about what our country can do in terms of gender equity in general and equal sharing of responsibility for care giving in particular? Apparently a lot.
The three or four times we heard the US delegation speak, it was to weaken the verbs. For example, they want to change "ensure the protection of workers" to "strengthen the protection ..."
Really??!!?! These are just recommendations! What is wrong with recommending the protection of workers as opposed to recommending you do a little better job at protecting workers? I can think of way too many snide, snarky and cynical answers to that question.
The bottom line: we are not a global leader for gender equity. Far from it. There is plenty of work to do and I am in for the fight.
Tiny bit of background: the CSW does not write treaties that have the weight of international law. They simply make policy recommendations.
So, it seems to me that there is little risk involved in using strong language. What is the harm in being hopeful about what our country can do in terms of gender equity in general and equal sharing of responsibility for care giving in particular? Apparently a lot.
The three or four times we heard the US delegation speak, it was to weaken the verbs. For example, they want to change "ensure the protection of workers" to "strengthen the protection ..."
Really??!!?! These are just recommendations! What is wrong with recommending the protection of workers as opposed to recommending you do a little better job at protecting workers? I can think of way too many snide, snarky and cynical answers to that question.
The bottom line: we are not a global leader for gender equity. Far from it. There is plenty of work to do and I am in for the fight.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
reunion
when you see a friend you were once intimate with, years after that intimacy, there is often a warming up period. feeling each other out. seeing ho the other person has changes. testing to see if old patterns still work. and after a little bit of time, you get in the groove. you smooth out the awkwardness. you sit closer. you lean in. you move in ways that feel familiar and new at the same time.
art and i are this way lately.
there were times in my life, lovely privileged times as an art student, when i went to three or hour art museums in a couple of days. or gallery after gallery. or returned to the same show just to sit in the presence of a piece i had built a relationship with. and yet, i haven't spent time looking at art, strolling through images, swimming with colors, wrestling with concepts, for months. the dry spell has been too long. and so as i approached the armory show today, i stumbled through the first awkward moments. but then, i was addicted to the relationship again. despite my feet hurting, my tummy growling, the crowds, the prices, the pretentiousness, i kept going and going. just one more row of galleries. just around this corner then i will leave. just... just... just...
the original armory show towards the beginning of the 20th century introduced the united states to modern art. this was before we fancied ourselves as the center all of things art. it was groundbreaking. it was moving. it shattered perceptions of the visual, perceptions of culture. the changes it brought reached far deeper into american culture than just fine art.
the current armory show (international fair of new art) does not live up to that radical ideal, but it is likely the most interesting collection of current art i have ever seen. at first i was confused... there are two piers that included work--92 and 94. 92 held modern work... and it was ok. there were exciting pieces that were new to me, but much of it was mediocre examples of incredible artists. i almost left before hitting pier 94. 94 held all the new art. this is a show i would come back to new york to see again... just for this. galleries from at least three continents were present (they could have been a little more gobal than they were) but i felt challenged and inspired by what i saw. people are pushing the boundaries, reinventing what we thought was old and traditional (kinda like we are doing in the church). asia seems to be the new center. from my perspective, american art it no longer on that front edge. it will be interesting to see if another city replaces new york in this century the way new york replaced paris in the last century.
blah blah blah. i realize i sound self-important and like i know more than i actually do. i apologize. it comes form love and admiration. and the hope that i can learn to push the envelope artistically too.
art and i are this way lately.
there were times in my life, lovely privileged times as an art student, when i went to three or hour art museums in a couple of days. or gallery after gallery. or returned to the same show just to sit in the presence of a piece i had built a relationship with. and yet, i haven't spent time looking at art, strolling through images, swimming with colors, wrestling with concepts, for months. the dry spell has been too long. and so as i approached the armory show today, i stumbled through the first awkward moments. but then, i was addicted to the relationship again. despite my feet hurting, my tummy growling, the crowds, the prices, the pretentiousness, i kept going and going. just one more row of galleries. just around this corner then i will leave. just... just... just...
the original armory show towards the beginning of the 20th century introduced the united states to modern art. this was before we fancied ourselves as the center all of things art. it was groundbreaking. it was moving. it shattered perceptions of the visual, perceptions of culture. the changes it brought reached far deeper into american culture than just fine art.
the current armory show (international fair of new art) does not live up to that radical ideal, but it is likely the most interesting collection of current art i have ever seen. at first i was confused... there are two piers that included work--92 and 94. 92 held modern work... and it was ok. there were exciting pieces that were new to me, but much of it was mediocre examples of incredible artists. i almost left before hitting pier 94. 94 held all the new art. this is a show i would come back to new york to see again... just for this. galleries from at least three continents were present (they could have been a little more gobal than they were) but i felt challenged and inspired by what i saw. people are pushing the boundaries, reinventing what we thought was old and traditional (kinda like we are doing in the church). asia seems to be the new center. from my perspective, american art it no longer on that front edge. it will be interesting to see if another city replaces new york in this century the way new york replaced paris in the last century.
blah blah blah. i realize i sound self-important and like i know more than i actually do. i apologize. it comes form love and admiration. and the hope that i can learn to push the envelope artistically too.
Friday, March 6, 2009
my first day at the united nations
overwhelmed does not even begin to cover it.
after getting a temporary UN badge, i turned a corner and was greeted by a chagall stained glass window. took my breath away.
"The precepts of the LORD are right,
giving joy to the heart.
The commands of the LORD are radiant,
giving light to the eyes. "
psalm 19:8
the theme of this commission on the status of women is the equal sharing of care giving between the genders, particularly in the context of HIV/AIDS. we sat in a room among women on the ground in the middle of the pandemic in Africa who were asking women in the north (their label, not mine) in the churches to use the power of their voices to ensure that funding gets to the women doing the grassroots work. i didn't realize my voice had that kind of power.
listening to the delegation appointed by the new presidential administration--who have begun work but still have to be confirmed by the senate--i was deeply aware that our country has already made changes. climate change is being dealt with differently. family planning in global conversations is being dealt with differently. the intersections of the economy, housing, health care, jobs are understood and none of the problem are being dealt with in isolation. the voices of the NGOs in the room were heard and some brilliant women from many sectors are working in the united states on these global issues.
we sat in a conference room, listening to ear pieces, hearing statements from delegates from all over the world--new zealand, burkina faso, cuba, united kingdom, paraguay, the democratic republic of the congo. my first time in a diplomatic space, i had to reorient my thinking about what i was hearing. at first, i felt like i was being sold a used car, being told versions of the truth. then i realized what was at stake, and at least this conversation was being had. there are other places in the UN to hold governments to account for what the say and the promises they make in these hopeful statements.
after all of this, sitting in the UN chamber, where colin powell told the international community that iraq had weapons of mass destruction, where the president of iran criticized the last administration, where the seats rotate so that no countries have priority, i started to think about the way we are challenged to be. gender equality is God's way, it is God's law. the value of each individual's rights, talents and contributions as God made us is God's way, it is God's law. when those laws give birth to the beautiful movements i saw today, all around the globe, my heart is filled with joy and my eyes are enlightened.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
the law of the Lord is perfect...
... reviving the soul. psalm 19:7
i am at the united nations commission on the status of women in new york this weekend. being able to even be in the presence of an international conversation like this is beyond my dreams in so many ways.
i arrived this evening, just in time for the de-briefing dinner of ecumenical women, who gathers all the faith-based advocates for cooperative work. they used lots of lingo i didn't understand, and i felt lost, in a strange position of limbo in the church. but hearing a woman from halfway around the world express humor-filled frustration at being at a bible study full of patriarchy and without context showed me that there is so much for me to be inspired and empowered by this weekend. i hope to have many of my inner myths busted and to continue to grow in the way i understand the world i hope to minister to.
when i return, i will preach on psalm 19 at bethel presbyterian. reading it this evening, i realized that the presence of many (all?) of the Christian women here in the spirit of this psalm. knowing that the law of God is good and just--to all people, women and children equally included--they are fighting for a world where those laws are upheld.
i am at the united nations commission on the status of women in new york this weekend. being able to even be in the presence of an international conversation like this is beyond my dreams in so many ways.
i arrived this evening, just in time for the de-briefing dinner of ecumenical women, who gathers all the faith-based advocates for cooperative work. they used lots of lingo i didn't understand, and i felt lost, in a strange position of limbo in the church. but hearing a woman from halfway around the world express humor-filled frustration at being at a bible study full of patriarchy and without context showed me that there is so much for me to be inspired and empowered by this weekend. i hope to have many of my inner myths busted and to continue to grow in the way i understand the world i hope to minister to.
when i return, i will preach on psalm 19 at bethel presbyterian. reading it this evening, i realized that the presence of many (all?) of the Christian women here in the spirit of this psalm. knowing that the law of God is good and just--to all people, women and children equally included--they are fighting for a world where those laws are upheld.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
the preaching life
on sunday, i preached on the setting of the beatitudes and was surprised what i found. i didn't look at my notes, once, but spoke from my heart and what the Spirit had prepared for me (i hope it was the spirit?)... and i wonder, because it was a short sermon, that missed some of the "points" i wanted to make, and it was without well crafted words, if this is what i should do, or if i should be preaching straight from polished transcripts...
thoughts?
here are the ntoes i constructed that i didn't use...
Having grown up in a fairly standard Presbyterian church, and going to Sunday school every week until middle school, there are few Sunday school lessons I remember. They all blur together. But, the Beatitudes I remember. We learned about them in second grade I think, and we each were assigned a Beatitude. Then we had to draw it. Using little symbols, we had to express the words of the Beatitude in picture. I had "Blessed are the pure in heart for they will see God." So, obviously I drew a heart, and some eyes. I don't know how I got pure across, that is tough one. That little exercise burned those words onto my heart. Ever since then, the Beatitudes have been central to my understanding of God... and yet I am not sure I understand them at all.
These first two verses are the brief introduction to the Beatitudes, and the whole Sermon on the Mount, a defining teaching for many Christians. This is the Gospel within the Gospel, the Word within the Word. And it was taught on a mountain, not in a synagogue, not in a temple. Just before Jesus goes up the mountain, we hear that he had been teaching in the synagogues and healing people. The crowds that followed him grew and grew. And he went out to them.
The setting of the mountain is very important. As we see from the Old Testament readings today, God showed up on the mountain a lot. It is where God gave Moses the law. God called Elijah on a mountain. Micah encourages his people to go to the mountain to learn. Matthew was aware of this tradition, and so Matthew places Jesus firmly in the context, in the narrative of the great Jewish prophets. Luke tells this same story, but sets it in the valley. Luke's is a sermon of the plain not a sermon on the mount. Matthew deliberately places Jesus in this tradition that includes the giving of the law to Moses on the mountain. But, at the end of the Beatitudes, we hear that he didn't come to abolish the law, or to bring a new law, but to fulfill the law. He is not as second Moses, rather he is the very embodiment of the law of God that can teach us how to draw closer to the God who loves us.
During Lent, we renew, recommit, reflect, and repent. This can be a dark process. We remember the temptation of Jesus during this time. It is not pretty to face our failures, our weakness and even our inner ugliness. Ash Wednesday can be painful. But, Jesus offers hope.
This is the very story of the incarnation. Jesus went to the people where they were, as they were. When he saw the crowds, when he saw the multitudes, he went to them. He did not invite them into his house, into his temple, or into his church, he went to them. He did not invite them into a space that had limits, that would fill up, cutting off people from his message. In the tradition of Moses, of Elijah, he went to encounter God and teach about God on the mountain where everyone could here and see him, and encounter God for themselves.
In the same way, God, in the very incarnation of Jesus Christ, comes to us, meeting us where we are—even if it isn’t on the mountain—reaching out a hand, teaching us from wherever we stand. God continues to come to us, again and again and again by the movement of the Holy Spirit among us. God loves us too much to let us remain as we are, where we are. God comes to us to help us grow.
Whenever we recognize the presence of God teaching us, we have been to the mountaintop and sat at the feet of Jesus.
At the end of his life, at the end of his last public speech, Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. expressed this reality of faith better than I can express it now. He said:
"Well, I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn't matter to me now. Because I've been to the mountaintop... I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land. And I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord." Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., "I've Been to the Mountaintop"
Think about those times when you have encountered God, and that encounter taught you something. Reflect on the places where God has come to you and taught you something new. What are you mountaintop experiences? But don't let it stop there.
During this season of Lent as we seek to learn from the Beatitudes, let us travel to the mountaintop, sit and the feet of Jesus, see our promised land and open ourselves up to his teaching that will get us there.
thoughts?
here are the ntoes i constructed that i didn't use...
Having grown up in a fairly standard Presbyterian church, and going to Sunday school every week until middle school, there are few Sunday school lessons I remember. They all blur together. But, the Beatitudes I remember. We learned about them in second grade I think, and we each were assigned a Beatitude. Then we had to draw it. Using little symbols, we had to express the words of the Beatitude in picture. I had "Blessed are the pure in heart for they will see God." So, obviously I drew a heart, and some eyes. I don't know how I got pure across, that is tough one. That little exercise burned those words onto my heart. Ever since then, the Beatitudes have been central to my understanding of God... and yet I am not sure I understand them at all.
These first two verses are the brief introduction to the Beatitudes, and the whole Sermon on the Mount, a defining teaching for many Christians. This is the Gospel within the Gospel, the Word within the Word. And it was taught on a mountain, not in a synagogue, not in a temple. Just before Jesus goes up the mountain, we hear that he had been teaching in the synagogues and healing people. The crowds that followed him grew and grew. And he went out to them.
The setting of the mountain is very important. As we see from the Old Testament readings today, God showed up on the mountain a lot. It is where God gave Moses the law. God called Elijah on a mountain. Micah encourages his people to go to the mountain to learn. Matthew was aware of this tradition, and so Matthew places Jesus firmly in the context, in the narrative of the great Jewish prophets. Luke tells this same story, but sets it in the valley. Luke's is a sermon of the plain not a sermon on the mount. Matthew deliberately places Jesus in this tradition that includes the giving of the law to Moses on the mountain. But, at the end of the Beatitudes, we hear that he didn't come to abolish the law, or to bring a new law, but to fulfill the law. He is not as second Moses, rather he is the very embodiment of the law of God that can teach us how to draw closer to the God who loves us.
During Lent, we renew, recommit, reflect, and repent. This can be a dark process. We remember the temptation of Jesus during this time. It is not pretty to face our failures, our weakness and even our inner ugliness. Ash Wednesday can be painful. But, Jesus offers hope.
This is the very story of the incarnation. Jesus went to the people where they were, as they were. When he saw the crowds, when he saw the multitudes, he went to them. He did not invite them into his house, into his temple, or into his church, he went to them. He did not invite them into a space that had limits, that would fill up, cutting off people from his message. In the tradition of Moses, of Elijah, he went to encounter God and teach about God on the mountain where everyone could here and see him, and encounter God for themselves.
In the same way, God, in the very incarnation of Jesus Christ, comes to us, meeting us where we are—even if it isn’t on the mountain—reaching out a hand, teaching us from wherever we stand. God continues to come to us, again and again and again by the movement of the Holy Spirit among us. God loves us too much to let us remain as we are, where we are. God comes to us to help us grow.
Whenever we recognize the presence of God teaching us, we have been to the mountaintop and sat at the feet of Jesus.
At the end of his life, at the end of his last public speech, Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. expressed this reality of faith better than I can express it now. He said:
"Well, I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn't matter to me now. Because I've been to the mountaintop... I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land. And I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord." Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., "I've Been to the Mountaintop"
Think about those times when you have encountered God, and that encounter taught you something. Reflect on the places where God has come to you and taught you something new. What are you mountaintop experiences? But don't let it stop there.
During this season of Lent as we seek to learn from the Beatitudes, let us travel to the mountaintop, sit and the feet of Jesus, see our promised land and open ourselves up to his teaching that will get us there.
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