Homily 2.8.2020

Readings: 

Isaiah 58:7-10

1 Corinthians 2: 1-5

Matthew 5:13-16

Grief and Praise

I’d like to do something a little different in the homily tonight, there are different stories and contexts I want to share that are all woven together through this chorus of grief and praise, and so I’d like to teach you a song, that we can sing together throughout the homily, as we weave these stories together. You up for that?

You have the words on a half sheet of paper, I’ll sing a couple lines then have you repeat it back to learn the tune. This is a song by Auspry that I learned at a community song circle.

[teach Grief and Praise]

Grief and Praise, Grief and Praise

Oh it turns the world around

Grief and Praise, Grief and Praise

I was lost but now I’m found

I can feel it in my bones, yeah in my bones

Crack me open like a stone, yeah like a stone

So when you hear me say “Grief and Praise” throughout the homily, I invite you to join me in this chorus.

There are a four different but intersecting contexts to our liturgy this evening that I’d like us to focus on. The first is the context of the faith tradition passed down through the centuries revealed in our Scripture readings tonight. Jesus as a Jewish rabbi, knew well the Hebrew Scriptures, particularly the prophets as he quoted them and their teachings often. It is the passage from Isaiah tonight that gives context to Jesus’ message about salt and light. Pairing the reading from Isaiah with this Gospel prevents an individualistic interpretation and puts it into its proper context of community, and more specifically a community that ensures the most vulnerable are cared for and protected as the true path towards making God’s light and love shine forth in the world.

There’s this great series of If/Then statements - IF you remove from your midst oppression, false accusation and malicious speech; IF you bestow your bread on the hungry and satisfy the afflicted; THEN light shall rise for you in the darkness, and the gloom shall become for you like midday. We can’t just say, “I’m going to let my light shine today” and then do nothing else. Non-action, silence, and complicity in systems of oppression are the equivalent of continuing to hide our light under a bushel basket, regardless of what we profess with our lips. The light in us, this spark of the divine present in all of creation, is what impels us to take action, to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, shelter the unhoused, call out the lies and malicious speech that surround us and enter into the struggle for liberation from all interconnected systems of oppression.

And this is not easy work. It is work that calls us to enter into the suffering, to be broken open, to shed tears of grief. But it is also through these salty tears we shed that our hearts of stone are broken open so that the light of Christ, the light of divine love, can being to shine forth. As you gather around the altar tonight, you will be encouraged to symbolize the tears you shed for the world by placing a pinch of salt into the bowl of water before the altar, entrusting them to the community gathered and the mystery of transformation we celebrate in the breaking and sharing of the bread. The stories of the steadfast presence of God, accompanying us, working for liberation in the context of great oppression and suffering, stories of salt and light, these are our stories, the stories of our ancestors, stories full of Grief and Praise.   

Grief and Praise, Grief and Praise

Oh it turns the world around

Grief and Praise, Grief and Praise

I was lost but now I’m found

I can feel it in my bones, yeah in my bones

Crack me open like a stone, yeah like a stone  

We are also in February, black history month, a time to honestly acknowledge and repent for the horrors endured by the black community at the hands of white supremacy and also celebrate the incredible brilliance and triumph of their spirit and the many ways they have made a positive impact in the world. Both are needed as we seek to live out the call of the prophet, to remove from our midst all oppression, false accusation, and malicious speech.

We need to tell the whole truth about the complicity of white Christians in the trans-Atlantic slave trade, the wealth accumulated on the backs of enslaved Africans, the abuse and torture of chattel slavery, and the silence and quiet complicity of all those who did nothing. We need to keep looking at how these systems of racial oppression continue to disproportionately harm the black community in the U.S. in basically every category of human rights. We can’t be salt and light, if we don’t honestly face this history and present reality. 

And we also need to tell the whole truth about the incredible brilliance, culture, and creativity of the many diverse people from the continent of Africa, who were brought to this country against their will and yet managed to keep alive that spark of the divine within them, resisting oppression and liberating their communities and continuing to foster and encourage that same spirit of brilliance, culture, and creativity of their ancestors. As we sit in the context of black history month, we sit in the reality of grief and praise.

Grief and Praise, Grief and Praise

Oh it turns the world around

Grief and Praise, Grief and Praise

I was lost but now I’m found

I can feel it in my bones, yeah in my bones

Crack me open like a stone, yeah like a stone

Today is also the feast of St. Josephine Bakhita, patron saint of survivors of human trafficking, as she herself was a survivor of slavery in the 1800s. Her feast was chosen as the World Day of Prayer and Awareness Against Human Trafficking. So we take time today to reflect on her story, an important part of black Catholic history, and connect it to our current reality that holds both grief for the millions of people in our world who are still enslaved through forced labor and sexual exploitation and also praise for the many who have been able to escape, reclaim their freedom, and pursue their dreams.

St. Bakhita was born in the Darfur region of South Sudan in 1869. At the age of seven she was kidnapped by Middle Eastern slave traders and re-sold multiple times throughout her childhood and adolescence. She was sold so many times she forgot her original name, and was given the name Bakhita by her slaver owners which meant “fortunate one.” She eventually ended up in Italy and was entrusted to the care of the Canossian Sisters while her owners were away on business. Living with the sisters she came to learn more about God and was able to put words to this Spirit that accompanied her and kept her alive during the brutal years of slavery. With the help of the Sisters and the patriarch of Venice she was granted her freedom and officially joined the order of the Canossian Sisters in 1896, choosing the name Josephine for herself. She lived and ministered with the Sisters the remainder of her life, sharing her story with all who would listen. She embodied the teachings of the prophet, caring for the poorest around her, shining the light of love brightly with all whom she encountered. 

While the legal slave trade that existed in the time of Bakhita has since been abolished, an illegal slave trade still exists in our world today in the form of human trafficking. Economic and gender based systems of oppression continue to treat people like commodities to be used, bought and sold for an individual’s profit or pleasure. St. Bakhita was targeted as a young girl, only 7 years old, and unfortunately children are still targeted today both for sexual exploitation and labor. It is estimated that one in four victims of human trafficking is a child. These aren’t just children living in foreign countries, that are our children, right here in this community who are being targeted.

I have been heart broken and inspired by the stories of survivors who were first trafficked at ages as young as 4 or 5, many by family members or trusted adults, and have since found the strength not only to heal themselves as adults but to advocate on behalf of others, and I continue to be outraged that this evil and abuse continues to persist in our communities and our world. St. Bakhita’s story like the story of so many survivors of human trafficking is one filled with deep grief and pain, but also hope and praise for the possibility of healing, restoration, and new life.  May this reality crack us open to let the light shine through and heal the broken body of Christ through Grief and Praise.

Grief and Praise, Grief and Praise

Oh it turns the world around

Grief and Praise, Grief and Praise

I was lost but now I’m found

I can feel it in my bones, yeah in my bones

Crack me open like a stone, yeah like a stone

Finally we are living in the context of our own community’s story, one of transition and visioning as we take this 2020 year to reflect on who we are, where we have been and where we are going. We are a community that over the years has experienced and shared together moments of deep grief for communal losses and transitions and also deep joy and praise for renewed life and hope. I believe this to be an important part of community, to be able to bring our whole selves just as we are, to accompany one another through the difficult moments of life as well as the celebratory ones.

To live the calling of our faith as Isaiah reminds us is to reach out beyond the boundaries of this community to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, shelter the unhoused, and remove all oppression and malicious speech from our presence.  It is by entering into these painful realities, accompanying one another as siblings in Christ, that THEN as the prophet reminds us, THEN we will make real the presence of God on this earth and our light shall shine through. And that is something to praise God for, that the spark of the divine in each of us grows and is illuminated in and through community, loving and serving one another through the good times and the bad, through both the grief and the praise.

Grief and Praise, Grief and Praise

Oh it turns the world around

Grief and Praise, Grief and Praise

I was lost but now I’m found

I can feel it in my bones, yeah in my bones

Crack me open like a stone, yeah like a stone

Homily 10.13.19

Readings: 

2 Kings 5:14-17

2 Timothy 2:8-13

Luke 17:11-19

Healing the Body of God 

Tonight I want to talk about bodies. I think sometimes we are too quick to spiritualize everything, taking it out of the fleshy realm of reality, but we are an incarnational people. We believe the Word became Flesh and dwelt among us, and we can encounter revelations of the divine mystery and presence in and through the flesh: in our bodies and all bodies that make up the larger body of God. We have a fleshy/physical Gospel story tonight that invites us to reflect on our relationship to bodies: our own body, the human bodies of others, and the larger body of God that makes up the cosmos.

This story tonight in the Gospel of Luke is actually his second story of healing lepers. These healing stories of Jesus are meant to teach us a lesson about who Jesus is and what he has come to do: Jesus consistently responds to those who on the margins, the outcasts of society, those whose bodies have been rejected rather because of a skin disease like leprosy or other physical challenges like blindness, deafness, or challenges with mobility. Jesus not only associates with but loves and touches the bodies of those who have been rejected from community, seeking to restore that sense of belovedness and connection.

I feel pretty confident that all of us, at some point or another, have had something about our bodies that we didn’t like, that we felt ashamed of or embarrassed by, or that we wished we could change. I know I certainly have, as a woman who grew up in a patriarchal church and is inundated with media messages about feminine beauty and what a woman’s body should like. There are huge industries that are making billions of dollars off of making people feel bad about their bodies. And its not just women, men and non-binary people are targeted too.

The persistence of systemic oppressions like racism, heterosexism, and ableism also target bodies that don’t fit into what the dominant power holders have deemed as “normal” or “desirable.” There are real barriers to these targeted groups in accessing what should be human rights such as excellent health care, housing, education, and employment, sometimes with life or death consequences.

There is also an emotional and psychological internalization of these harmful messages for those targeted by oppressions against different identities. We internalize these negative messages about skin color, hair, size, physical appearance, how we express our gender, or who our bodies love. And a lot of this internalization of negative messaging is happening on an unconscious level, where we don’t even realize it, and it impacts not only our relationship with our own body but how we interact with the bodies of others as well.

There was organized, systemic oppression against those with the skin disease of leprosy in the time of Jesus blocking their access to health care, housing, education, and employment, and I think they probably internalized that oppression as well, feeling dirty or unworthy. This is why they cry out to Jesus to have pity, or rather compassion for them in their suffering. And in encountering the Christ, the divine one who took on flesh, they are in fact “cleansed” of that particular barrier separating them from community.

But only one of them was “healed.” The Samaritan who upon realizing that he had be cleansed, also experienced something else, something deeper, that made him return to Jesus in deep gratitude rather than return to the community who had been oppressing him. I think it is important that these two different words were used: cleansed and healed. The root of the word for healing is the same as salvation, and some translations have Jesus saying to the Samaritan “your faith has healed you” and others “your faith has saved you.” Perhaps the healing and salvation in this story, is not only skin deep, but a profound sense of knowing oneself and one’s body as good, and holy, and whole despite what the wider society tells you. This has been a personal healing mantra for me, as I have sought to reclaim this body God has given me to do her work in the world despite the messages I receive to the contrary. "I am good, and holy, and whole," and so are you.

You see when we experience healing and reconciliation with our own bodies, we are also able to open up to a deeper love of all the bodies in which a spark of the divine dwells, and appreciate how each member of this diverse body of God reveals something unique and important about the mystery of God.

St. Francis, one of our patron saints who’s feast we celebrated last weekend, had an experience like this with a leper as well. You see even 1100 years after the life of Jesus, society was still isolating and treating people with leprosy as less than human, and Francis bought into that messaging. He despised lepers and was disgusted by them, intentionally avoiding them whenever possible. And then he encountered Christ, through a person with leprosy. He wrote: “When I was in sin, the sight of lepers nauseated me beyond measure; but then God led me into their company, and I had pity on them. When I became acquainted with them, what had previously nauseated me became the source of spiritual and physical consolation for me.” Embracing the body of the one he had harshly judged, he had a profound metanoia – a conversion – and saw that body and all bodies like it as the body of Christ himself.

We all have people who we judge or treat like lepers in our own lives, whether we want to admit it or not. Those we intentionally avoid, those we look on with contempt or judgment, those we don’t want to touch or embrace. They are not the ones who need healing in order for us to accept them, we are the ones who Christ is inviting to heal, to experience the transformation of St. Francis in seeing the very face of Christ in the body of the one we least want to engage with .

And I want to be clear here that the goal is not to stop seeing the actual, physical, unique body by appealing to some universal connection like “we’re all the same on the inside.” That’s not what I’m saying. I want us to see Christ as a person with a skin disease, as a black transgender woman, as a queer female pastor, as a successful black business man, as a nonbinary overweight teen, as a person who is differently abled, as a person living with addiction, as body covered in piercings and tattoos, and not ignore any of those details.

Because I would be so bold as to say that we can’t really love God until we can love all of the diverse bodies that make up the body of God. And this extends beyond the human family to the whole of the cosmos. Ecofeminist theologian Sallie McFague is the one who coined the term body of God, and she describes it as: “not this or that body, and certainly not a human body, but all the bodies that have ever been or ever will be, from quarks and exploding stars to microorganisms and centipedes, rocks, mountains, and water, but not forgetting tortoises, pine trees, buttercups, giraffes, and of course, human beings in all their various shapes, conditions, and colors.”

The messages we have internalized and are acting out about the more than human parts of the body of God are causing the 6th mass extinction event in the history of this planet, and the first one cause primarily by human actions. Dozens of species – precious members of the body of God, go extinct every day. Forests around the world are burning, seas levels are rising and oceans and waterways are filled with plastic and other trash. This sickness of anthropocentrism – human centeredness, and neo-liberal capitalism is destroying the body of God, and we are in need of some deep collective healing.

What would it look like to cleanse ourselves of the anthropocentric sores that keep us separated from the rest of creation and restore the blood flow, the life line, to these equally important parts of our body that we have cut ourselves off from? The body of God is not only inviting us, but crying out to us to do so, and I believe this is a core part of the salvific healing Christ is seeking to realize in the world. When we can recognize every living part of creation as a member of the body of God, and embrace our connection to this diverse, beloved body, we can transform our relationship to our own body and all the bodies of the cosmos.

I want to end with a word of thanksgiving. The word thank in our Gospel tonight is the same type of thanks Jesus gives at the last supper as he blesses the bread and wine, which is also the root of Eucharist – to give thanks. The Samaritan leper presented his healed body before Christ in thanksgiving, in Eucharist. As we present our bodies tonight around the table of Christ as beautiful and diverse temples of the holy one, may the thanksgiving we offer in recognition of the one who took on flesh to show us what love incarnate looks like, transfer into thanksgiving and healing for our own bodies, beautifully and wonderfully made to continue incarnating love and restore community.

Homily 3.24.19

Readings: 
Exodus 3:1-8, 13-15
1 Cor 10:1-6, 10-12
Luke 13:1-9 

Encountering the God Who Is 

I Am who Am

I will be who I will be 

I am the one who sees, who hears, and knows

I am the waters of life in desert spaces

I am fire and wind 

I am silence 

I am the speck of sand

And the sky filled with billions of stars 

I am the one who swims in the seas, walks on the land, and flies in the air

I am parent and child

I am comforter and liberator 

I am every color, size, and shape under the sun 

I am community and relatedness 

I am holy, embodied, mystery

I am dynamic, creative, energy

I am the ground of being

And the breath of life

I am who am 

I will be who I will be  

I want to focus our attention tonight on our first reading, this powerful account from Exodus where God reveals their chosen name to Moses: Yahweh, rooted in the verb “to be” which can be translated I am who am, or I will be who I will be, or even I cause to be, I make exist, or I make happen.  This God of the ancestors of the Hebrew people is a relational God, a dynamic God, a God who’s very identity is woven into the existence of all life, all creation, all that is.  

So what happened in the history and development of Christianity to take the God who is life itself, and transform her into a male ruler/king who sits in the sky on his throne in judgment?  It is helpful to remember that all theology and language about God is contextual. The imagination of a people and how they speak of God is often limited to their own lived experience and culture. And so it was within the context of Christianity from the 4th century on: the model of power surrounding them was empire rooted in patriarchal and hierarchical society.  And so this dynamic relational name for God “The one who is” in Hebrew, was translated into the greek “kyrios,” which means Lord. Elizabeth Johnson in her recent book Creation and the Cross puts it like this: “By translating the mysterious name YHWH into kyrios, which comes into English as Lord, it took this relational, compassionate deity whose name is a verb, who is utterly free and beyond any simple gendered categorization, and cast divine identity into the image of a ruling male person in a patriarchal society.”  The name YHWH appears over 6700 times in the Hebrew Scriptures, but the Greek translation changed most of those into Lord, which is what we see in most of our bibles today.  

Remembering this can change not only the way we read Scripture, replacing Lord with I AM, but also transform our relationship with God as the one who is all that is.  In another desert setting, beginning in the 4th century, women and men who became distressed by Christianity’s growing allegiance with empire sought an authentic encounter with God and faithful life by retreating to the desert where they lived either in small communities or as hermits.  We know this group of people today as the desert mothers and fathers, and contemporary historians believe that there were twice as many women as men living in the desert although more writings from the desert fathers were preserved. Mary Earle in her book about the desert mothers talks about how going into the desert opened up this renewed understanding of and relationship with the God who is: “They began to see themselves as part of the cosmos, as participants in a vast and beautiful universe created, sustained, and redeemed by the ever-living God.  The whole universe became a burning bush, holy ground through which the living God speaks to those who will listen.” 

We don’t have to retreat to the literal desert, this wisdom reminds us we have burning bushes all around us, revealing different aspects of this God who is, who causes to be and brings into existence.  Our imaginations and experiences like those of so many generations before us, can often be limited by our own contexts as well. I know that personally my own language and images for who God is have changed and grown as I have traveled to new places and encountered new people who are burning bushes for me, opening up a whole new experience and understanding of God. I grew up with an image of God as loving father and friend.  Through a highschool service trip to Minneapolis I encountered the God who accompanies the impoverished and the homeless, who’s love is known through something as simple as a smile and sharing a meal. Living abroad in El Salvador I encountered a liberating God who denounces exploitation, the divine feminine mother protecting and comforting her children, and the God of bloodshed and resurrection. Sitting at the feet of indigenous elders I have encountered the God whose spirit flows through all of creation and calls it sacred, a God whose wisdom is carried by the ancestors and whose hope and promise is held for future generations.  Just a few weeks ago in Alabama I had a powerful lived experience of the God who is paschal mystery, who is present in the crucified and resurrected people who continue to struggle for justice holding fast to the hope of freedom.  

God is who is, and there is so much life, so much wisdom to soak up from the incredibly diverse experiences and cultures all over this planet.  We grow in faith by sharing our stories of who God is for us with one another and by stepping out of our comfort zones to encounter who God is in other spaces for other people.  We each have a unique and important spark of the divine to share with the world. We are each a flame on this burning bush of creation, revealing who the holy one is. In order to tap into this individual and collective wisdom, I would like to end by walking you through a guided meditation.  I invite you to sit comfortably and close your eyes.  

Imagine yourself in a desert, it is dry, maybe a little windy, it is warm.  

Notice what is around you. 

You begin walking toward a mountain in the distance, feeling drawn toward it.  

You approach the base of the mountain and see a path leading up, so you follow the path.  

As you are walking, you stop as you see a great bush on fire near you.  

You contemplate this strange sight as the flames do not consume the bush that is burning.  

You decide to go closer to look at this remarkable sight and see why the bush is not being burned. 

As you approach the bush you hear a voice calling out your name.  

You answer, “Here I am.” 

The voice, who you know to be the Holy One, says to you, “Come no nearer! 

Remove the shoes and socks from your feet, for the place where you stand is holy ground.” 

This voice tells you, 

“I am the God of your ancestors, 

The God of Abraham, Sarah, and Hagar, 

The God of Isaac and Rebekah, 

The God of Jacob, Rachel, Leah, Bilhah, and Zilpah, 

I AM who I AM”

I have seen the affliction of my beloved creation, 

I have heard their cries for justice, peace, and survival, 

I know intimately what you and they are suffering.  

Go forth from here knowing that I am with you in our work for healing and liberation. 

Then God reveals one of their many names to you, a personal name for you to share as a revelation of God’s mystery.  

Who will you say has called you, and sends you forth from this holy ground?

Holding that name close to your heart, you put your socks and shoes back on

And head down the mountain and back into the desert to continue your journey.

When you are ready, I invite you to open your eyes, and write down 

On the flame pieces of paper the name God revealed to you.  

When you come up to altar after the gifts of bread and wine are brought up, 

Please put your flame onto the bush, as we are reminded of God’s holy presence 

And many names, revealed in this place, through this community. 

Homily 12.8.18

Readings: 

Bar 5:1-9; 

Phil 1:4-6, 8-11;

Lk 3:1-6

Caminante no hay camino, se hace camino al andar. This is a line from a famous poem by Antonio Machado, and means “traveler there is no path, the path is made by walking.”

So if there is no ready made path for us to follow, as Christians, as people of faith in this holy season of Advent, what guides our feet that make the paths that will heed John’s call to “prepare the way of the Lord?” I propose it is the dream or the vision we hold, that guides our feet which make the paths of justice, righteousness, peace, and mercy a reality.

Now there are two guiding dreams juxtaposed in our Gospel tonight and in our world today: the dream of empire and the dream of God. First half of the Gospel is a long list of names, names of those who had power at this time, these were the keepers of the dream of empire. The dream/vision of empire was to maintain consolidated power and control, to grow profits, expand territory, and assert domination.

But where does the Word of God, which we could call the Dream of God, show up? In John, son of Zachariah, in the desert. I want you to hold onto that image as we break open this Advent story together. Who is entrusted with the dream of God and where do they reside.

So let’s start with John the Baptist and then I want to reflect on three modern contexts where I see this same story playing out. The desert is not the first place that John hears or encounters the Word, the Dream of God. He first heard this dream proclaimed by Mary in utero, while his mother Elizabeth was still pregnant. John was one of the first witnesses to the Magnificat. He was also raised by Elizabeth and Zechariah, two faithful Jews who had intimately experienced God’s power and goodness and would have shared those experiences and the wisdom of their people to their son as he grew up. Part of Jewish belief at this time, particularly in some of the desert communities of which John may have lived, was a belief in the coming Messiah or a Messianic Age, this would be a time when the oppressor was cast down, when the people’s freedom and autonomy were restored, and peace and justice would reign.

So John is well prepared to receive the Word of God in the desert which inspires him to proclaim the good news of the coming Messiah and to prepare others for his arrival. John calls for a baptism of the repentance of sins because he could see that before others could nurture the dream and join him in walking the road to peace and justice there had to be a recognition of the past/current sin holding them back and a true conversion to change their ways. Perhaps inspired by the words of the prophet Amos, he invited people into the mighty stream of the river Jordan to experience a conversion that would pave the way for justice to flow like the very waters of Baptism.

There are many modern day John the Baptists, crying out from the desert places of society, treading dangerous paths, and forging new ways to bring about this same dream/vision of peace and justice. And just as John the Baptist did, they stand in opposition to the dream of empire.

I want to just highlight three:

I just spent the last two days in Washington DC at a conference on immigration, so I want to start first with what has been called the Migrant Caravan.

Most of you have probably heard by over the past month or so there have been thousands of people, traveling together primarily from the Central American countries of Honduras, El Salvador, Nicaragua, and Guatemala, over thousands of miles on paths filled with violence, danger, hunger and thirst, fear and uncertainty. They are desert roads and mountain roads, exposed to the harsh natural climates. They are not just fleeing from, but also moving toward a belief that there will be a safe place they can raise their children, where they can grow and prosper. They are making the road by walking up to our front door step and crying out: see me, hear me, don’t turn away, I am here and I matter. They hold a vision of God’s dream for them and their families that has come into violent conflict with the vision of a nationalist empire.

The vision of the nationalist empire separates us and them, it says we have to secure the borders, protect our own, those “others” are to be feared, judged, locked up, even treated as less than human. The vision of a nationalist empire believes in scarcity, in limited resources and so we must protect what is ours.

But the vision of God says that I am my brother and sisters keeper, that we are one body and when one suffers all suffer. The vision of God believes in abundance, that there are actually enough resources to go around if we share with one another.

Which dream is guiding our feet in responding to these migrants and refugees at our border?

While I was in Washington D.C. I finally had a chance to visit the Museum of African American History and Culture. A popular phrase in black and womanist theology which I saw throughout the exhibits is “Making a Way Out of No Way.” Holding fast to the dream of God, African Americans have consistently been able to walk into being a path toward freedom when it seemed most impossible.

The dream they were told to believe in by the slave traders and masters was one of grateful submission, but incredibly - while a message of servitude was preached, a message of liberation was heard. And this dream of God for all God’s people to be free, guided the feet that created paths of the underground railroad, guided the feet of soldiers marching in war for liberty for all, guided the feet in the reconstruction era creating new paths for community prosperity and civic participation, guided the feet of millions during the great northern migration, guided the feet of those who knew to keep God’s dream alive they had to create their own churches as spaces to nourish and share this dream of God for their freedom with one another. This is the dream that guided the brave feet marching for freedom and justice during the civil rights campaigns, and continuing to march in the streets today for black lives to matter and the ability to exist in the world without the assumption of criminality simply for having darker skin.

Now the dream of the white supremacist empire which says God created a racial hierarchy and that what is best, what is normal, is that which is rooted in whiteness, and those closest to whiteness have a right to dominate others, was well on display at this museum as well. This is a dream that unfortunately still guides and infects many of the laws, structures, and institutions of this country.

But it isn’t the most powerful dream. That was so clear to me at this museum, the dream of God that African Americans have held on to despite unimaginable, horrific suffering and oppression, is the one that will win out in the end, the dream that calls forth black excellence and black beauty and celebrates it as good, and holy, and needed for God’s dream to be fully realized.

So which dream is guiding us in our response to the ongoing struggle for racial equity today?

The final group and path that I want to briefly mention are the Climate Pilgrims who have spent the last 65 days walking over 1,500 kilometers from the Vatican to Poland for the annual climate summit, COP 24 this year. They are seeking to walk into being the path of an integral ecology as called for by Pope Francis in his encyclical Laudato Si, a renewed spirituality and vision that sees all of God’s creation as interconnected, as precious and worthy of care and protection, and prioritizes ecological well being over a consumer and profit driven culture. They have been collecting the prayers and dreams of people throughout the world along their journey and are presenting them now to the leaders gathered at COP 24.

The dream of the anthropocentric (human centered) empire is again one of hierarchy and domination, seeing the created world as a commodity to be used and discarded as needed for individual profit and gain. It is a dream that has severed the intimate bonds that connect all life and keep us healthy, and it is a dream therefore that is killing the planet and all life that calls earth home.

These climate pilgrims by walking this new road are hoping to inspire God’s dream for healthy and flourishing life throughout creation with others, so that we can make some serious changes to our global economic systems and practices before it is too late.

Which dream is guiding our own responses to the ever worsening impacts of climate change?

With the dreams of empire getting the most air time these days, it may seem like the dream of God has been forgotten, distorted, or is even dead. But I was reminded and challenged by an e-mail newsletter that I get from a reflection by the Rev. Anna Blaedel, to ask in this season of Advent: what if the dream is not dead, just waiting to be born?

Our Scriptures and the living history of our faith witness to us that the dream of God has survived generations and millennia of war, conquests, oppression, slavery, and environmental degradation. If we have forgotten the dream, if we can’t see the vision clearly, or if we have lost our hope, perhaps we are not spending enough time with the dream keepers. By stepping outside those places of power and privilege we hold, by making ourselves vulnerable and gaining a new perspective, we water the seed of the dream implanted in our hearts at our inception as imago Dei; we can hear the voices of those crying out from desert spaces and have the courage to wade through the waters reminding us of our baptism, cleansed from sin, and called into a community of solidarity walking the path of liberation together, preparing the way for God’s peace, justice, and righteousness to take on flesh in the world.

In this season of Advent, this season of pregnant preparation for dreams gestating in darkness, let us hear once again and hold fast to this dream of our faith, this dream of God, passed down through the centuries, through the ancestors, through courageous and faithful women and the children they raised, and let it guide our path so that the roads we are creating by walking are roads that do pave the way for us to welcome Christ into the world anew.

Homily 7.22.18

Feast of St. Mary Magdalene

Readings:
Judith 9:1, 9b, 10b-13a, 14
2 Cor 5:14-17
John 20:1-2, 11-18


[Jenn]

Today we are celebrating and honoring the feast of St. Mary Magdalene, also known as Mary of Magdala or Mary the Magdalene. What are some of the first things that come to your mind when you hear of Mary Magdalene? Take just a minute to share with a neighbor near you what you think of or what comes to mind.

[Erin]

So who was Mary Magdalene? It is a common misconception that she was a prostitute, a repentant sinner, or the woman caught in adultery that Jesus saved, but that is not true. Church tradition, art, popular myth and a patriarchal Church and culture have conflated stories and biblical characters to create a woman that is simply not the MM of the gospels.

Here’s what we DO know about Mary Magdalene, from the four canonical gospels: She was a woman, healed by Jesus, who became so devoted to him and his cause that she remains at the crucifixion, cares for him in his death at his burial, and is the first to witness the resurrection, commissioned by Christ to spread the good news not just to the disciples, but to the world. This is why the Church has given her the title, “apostle to the apostles.”

[Jenn]

Today in conjunction with this Feast of St. Mary Magdalene we will be offering the Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick. We chose this day because Mary Magdalene offers us a beautiful model of how our own personal healing opens us up to support the healing of others. And we could certainly use more healing in our world today.

[Erin]

The Evangelist Luke tells us that Mary is “freed of “7 demons”. This is fascinating to me. I am a practitioner of yoga and a yoga therapist. In yoga therapy, we look at whole-body healing, tuning into the seven energy centers of the body, also known in the ancient Indian tradition of yoga as chakras. The chakras are like wheels in the body, turning energy through the body constantly. Each center corresponds to a core part of being human-- grounding & rootedness; sexuality & creativity; will-power, love & service; speaking truth and resonance; inner wisdom & knowledge; union with all that is, the Divine. When all these wheels are turning, humming with life and flowing freely, a person is considered healthy. They are living into and integrating all aspects of their humanness, in balance and harmony. Energy flows from the heavens to the earth, and from the earth to the heavens, in the human person. In this way, every human is thought to be standing between heaven and earth, potentially a living Incarnation of Divine Life. This is what Jesus was, what he lived and embodied in wholeness. Salvation actually means to be healthy, integrated, whole. Jesus modeled this for us!

Now, most of us are not humming in this way, energy flowing freely and perfectly. Most of us have had pain in our life-- emotionally, physically, mentally, spiritually. We have encountered obstacles-- in ourselves and in the world-- that have blocked some of these energy centers, kept us from living fully into our humanity. We experience pain in the body, illness and disease, soreness and anxiety, depression, feeling unable at times to function. Or sometimes it’s simply an energetic dullness-- we know there’s a fullness out there, an aliveness that we strive for.

When I imagine into this encounter between the Magdalene and the Christ, I imagine Mary so much like us-- not there, wanting so badly to live a full life, but just very much in the world, encountering blockages and difficulties. Yet she encounters the Christ-- this person just radiating at every level, so full of life and love, and in an instant he looks at her, sees her in her full life and vitality and boom-- she is healed of those blocks and obstacles in her seven energy centers. She steps into her full humanity, mirrored by him. She is converted in the truest sense of the word, transformed!! So of course, she gives her whole life over to him. She already has. It’s a choiceless choice. Their hearts resonate with the other, at the center of the rainbow bridge that teems with the life of heaven and earth.

[Jenn]

This idea of becoming fully human is central to the Christian mission, the Christian path. Jesus is the Incarnate one and he came to teach us all how to be HUMAN. After his death, he urged his disciples to do the same. It is no coincidence that Mary was the one who was sent, first, to urge the disciples to continue onto this path of healing, of life, of love and of justice laid out by the Christ. She experienced it in her entire being, devoted her life to it, so of course would be trusted to carry on, to continue to embody, this central Christian mission.

[Erin]

In the Gospel of Mary Magdalene it says, “Then Mary arose, embraced them all and began to speak to her brothers: ‘Do not remain in sorrow and doubt for his Grace will guide you and comfort you. Instead, let us praise his greatness, for he has prepared us for this. He is calling upon us to become fully human [Anthropos].’ Thus Mary turned their hearts toward the Good, and they began to discuss the meaning of the Teacher’s words.”

As Mary makes clear, this fullness of humanity is not just for her, not just for Jesus. We are all called to be so radiant, so alive with divine-meets-human reality. We too are called to live and move and have our being in the heart of the Heart. When we live with this awakeness and aliveness in our bodies, seen and named in great love by the Christ, we cannot help but become healers in the world; we are so totally transformed that we cannot help but work for transformation in the world.

[Jenn]

So what gets in the way of living into this call? There are many obstacles that block the flow of God’s love and life in our lives and in the world today: Fear, prejudice, ignorance, ego, hurt, trauma, etc. Just as our body is living organism invited into the fullness of life God create us for, we are also a small part of a larger organism: the whole of creation. There are many ways that we create walls around our own heart, that cuts us off from the flow of life, the flow of the Spirit - separating us not only from other humans but also from the living organism of creation. Think about the body and what happens when the flow of blood is cut off to a certain part – it dies! There are literal and metaphorical walls we create as societies and countries, that cut off the flow of God’s liberating love. Creation as one living organism, cannot be fully alive while we build more walls that keep us divided and cut off from one another and the flow of God’s love. It isn’t good for our personal or collective health.

Mary Magdalene offers us an example of how to continue the work of Jesus as one who knows his light and love flowing freely through her and welcomes that presence of life to lead her prophetic ministry, even when her closest friends and fellow apostles disagree with her, deny her prophetic vision, and even seek to silence her. Many might have even labeled her a “nasty woman”, but “Nevertheless, she persisted.”

We have many women in our Catholic tradition and in our personal lives who embody many characteristics of Mary Magdalene for us. We heard in our Gospel that Mary recognized the resurrected Jesus when he called her name. We invite you now, as you listen to each of these descriptions of Mary Magdalene, to call out the names of women you know or have been inspired by, so that we can hear them and know the presence of the risen Christ who lives in and through them.

[Erin]

**Migdala means fortress temple, watchtower, stronghold, and elevated pulpit in the in Aramaic and Hebrew. What women have been a fortress or stronghold for you during difficult times?

[Jenn]

The gospels name Mary of Magdala first and foremost as one of the women who funded Jesus, allowing the good-news movement to extend from Galilee all the way to Jerusalem. What women have supported you with resources to carry out your good work in the world?

[Erin]

In the gospels, Mary and other women in the movement “ministered to [Jesus].” The Greek word diakonos means minister. What women have been diakonos and ministered to you?

[Jenn]

Mary of Magdala stood with many women until the bitter end, witnessing Jesus die on the cross. She with other women went to the tomb with myrrh and entered into the rituals of mourning and burial. What women have accompanied you in times of pain or mourning?

[Erin]

In the gospels, Mary - either alone or with other women - is the first to experience the Resurrected Jesus. And she is commissioned by Jesus to go and tell the others the good news of his Resurrection. What women have been bearers of Good News in your life?

For all these women named and unnamed who live into these callings every day. We give thanks and praise for this cloud of witnesses that accompany us.

[Jenn]

How can we follow these and other brave, faithful women to open ourselves up to become channels of God’s love and liberation? These are trying times and we need people living into their full humanness, we need channels of God’s love to flow through our communities, our families, our country. So as we transition into the Sacrament of healing, think about where are the hurts, the blockages that need to be healed in your life, in your family, in our community? Invite that healing into your body, as a microcosm of the whole. Sit with it after you are anointed. If you receive the healing oils on your hands, consider placing your hands on an area of your body that feels tense, restricted, or tight. In your anointing pray for openness and healing in the areas you need to be an open channel of God’s love and liberation. 

**Litany borrowed and adapted from Future Church resources for the feast of Mary Magdalene

You can listen to a recorded version of this homily here: https://soundcloud.com/sts-clare-and-francis/july-21-2018-5-25-20-pm 

Homily 3.17.18

Readings: 

Jer 31:31-34

Heb 5:7-9

John 12:20-33

I want to start by focusing on the first reading tonight. There are two important concepts that Jeremiah highlights as ways to know God: through teaching - aka what others tell us - and through personal experience - what we know in our hearts. This shift from the written law to the law sown in our own hearts is a pretty radical reordering of life that God is promising through Jeremiah. You see in that time, access to God was mediated through the elite few who were literate and could read the Torah and teach it others.

But what God is speaking through Jeremiah is a promise that - from the least to the greatest, from the most learned to the illiterate - ALL will know that they are God’s people and that God is their God because it will be written in their hearts rather than stone or books.

This parallels some of my own spiritual journey and perhaps yours as well. I was raised a good Roman Catholic girl in Catholic schools and very active in my local parish growing up. I knew the teachings of the Catholic Church and could repeat them back to you and argue correct dogma with the best of them. But when I entered college my freshman year at SLU I had this epiphany that while I knew all the “correct” teachings about God and Jesus, I didn’t really know any of that to be true in my heart, in my own personal experience, and so it wasn’t authentic. It wasn’t MY truth that I was able to share about knowing God and myself as one of God’s beloved creation. So I went back to square 1 and decided to set aside all these laws and teachings to use the language of our 1st reading, and discover who God was to me. Since that time I have had many rich experiences of knowing God in a much more intimate way, truly feeling God’s love and presence in my life, in my heart.

I want to invite you now to take a minute, close your eyes, and put your hand on your heart. As you breath in and out, feel your heartbeat. Remember that in Christ, God had a heartbeat. In you, God still has a heartbeat. Connect to that heart beat and reflect on a time when you felt close to God or Jesus.

I’ll sound the bell when that period of reflection is up and then I invite you if you are comfortable to find someone near you, preferably not your spouse or significant other, and share that experience with them. As you’re sharing notice any changes in your body as you tell your story, and notice in your partner how they might change as they tell their story. We’ll take 6 minutes to do this so about 3 minutes per person. I’ll again sound the bell when it’s time to end those conversations and then I’ll close with a final reflection.


(Period of reflection and sharing)


So perhaps you noticed as you or your partner shared their story that there was something more going on then just this intellectual exercise. I think most of us are pretty comfortable with experiencing God through teaching and learning - we learned this in school - but maybe are not quite as comfortable or used to really feeling God in our bodies, and participating in our faith in more embodied way that connects heart, mind, and soul.

The liturgies coming up in the next two weeks offer us some unique opportunities to really engage in the story of our faith in a more embodied way - and so I really encourage you to attend all of the services possible and engage in them as full body worship experiences.

During Palm Sunday we begin by embodying the joyful procession accompanying Jesus as he enters Jerusalem. We walk, we wave our palms, and we sing Hosanna! Then we shift to the passion of Christ where most of us become the crowd looking on and shouting “Crucify him! Crucify him!” I want us to really open ourselves up to this experience and enter this story that not only happened 2000 years ago, but is played out today in the ways that our own fears and succumbing to group think can lead to the death of innocent people. Don’t just say and hear the words, feel it, embody it.

On Holy Thursday we get our feet washed and wash the feet of others. This is a vulnerable and humbling embodied act of faith - engage it. See how it breaks open God for you in new ways.

On Good Friday experience the growing darkness, sit it in, don’t be too quick to search out the light, let the chaotic noise and drum beats reverberate in your soul.

And then on the Holy Saturday Easter Vigil see how the light returns, partake in the re-telling of our creation and faith history, dance with us, rejoice with us, feel the risen spirit rising up in your own heart and our community and respond. These are liturgies rich with knowing God because of how we experience them in our heart and soul and respond with our bodies.

One way, that we are invited to engage in this embodied practice of faith every week is through the Eucharist.

Jesus offers us a powerful image tonight in the Gospel that: “unless a grain of wheat falls to the earth and dies it remains just a grain of wheat, but if it dies it produces much fruit.”

God is revealed not just through the laws and the teachings of the church, but through interaction with all of creation. Jesus grew up in a community and culture that relied on subsistence agriculture to live, so they would know this life cycle of wheat well.

Maybe you don’t grow wheat (most likely you don’t) but perhaps you’ve had a vegetable garden before. Same principle. A tomato seed or a pepper seed remains just a seed unless it is planted in the soil, dies to its old way of being so it can be transformed into a plant that bears fruit or vegetables. And then we pick off that vegetable, and it dies again, only to be consumed by us and transformed into new life in our bodies.

This paschal mystery of life, death, and new transformed life is celebrated every week in the Eucharist. The grain of wheat dies and becomes a stalk of wheat. Which is harvested, dies, and is transformed into new life in the baking of bread. This bread becomes the body of Christ which is broken, dies again to its old way of being when it is consumed by us, but is then raised to new life in our very bodies which become its new transformed dwelling place. We are drawn into Jesus as the bread/body is drawn into our own bodies. We consume the body of Christ in order to become the body of Christ and it all involves this cyclical mystery of death and resurrection. This sanctuary in which we gather as the Body of Christ to hear the stories and learn how God is speaking to us today, is incorporated into this sanctuary (my body) which intimately knows that this God who is present in the grain of wheat, is present in the bread, is present in the body of Christ, is present in this holy body. This is our God, and we are her people.

May we hold onto this knowledge of our our hearts, and these experiences of our bodies, as we walk through holy week, experience the passion of Christ and the passions of our own lives, and live into the transformation of new life that comes from every death, in this sanctuary (the church) and this sanctuary (the body). Amen

Ordination Poems

Reflections on being present for the ordination of the first woman bishop in the Ecumenical Catholic Communion - in three poems.  Written 2/10/2018

Initial Reactions

Grace abounds
Gratitude abounds
Dwelling in the experience 
of God's power
and goodness
and love
and beauty.
  
Hope
fills my soul
as I taste
a sample
of the rich banquet
God has prepared
and invites us to share.

I am humbled; 
I am speechless 
in the presence
of such gift. 
Thank you
is the prayer
on my lips
and in my body. 

There is nothing to do
but dwell
be in this presence 
accept the gift
delight in God's goodness - 
this is what is pleasing to God
to open
to embrace
to fill
and rejoice. 

We are one - 
rejoicing together
dancing together
crying together
singing together
We are one.

God is here
God is good 


This Moment

This moment
is the only moment 
This moment

is enough 
This moment 
will inform and influence
all future moments
This moment
has been gestating
for over a decade
waiting patiently 
to be born
This moment 
contains all the past moments
that led to this moment 
This moment 
has planted new seeds
that will bear rich fruit 
This moment
will last forever 


A Snowy Baptism

It is fitting
that the snow
covers us 
in a white blanket
and blesses us
with her frozen water
a renewed Baptism 
as we enter
and leave
this holy place
the Church
is raised to new life
as the kin-dom of God 
breaks forth
and the Spirit rejoices: 

"These are my daughters,
in whom I am well pleased."